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artemuerto · 4 years

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Shelby Household Manor

Pairing: Thomas Shelby/Male Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Violence, Mention of Suicide, The Shelby Family teases Reader, Tommy is pleased and Proud of Reader

Author Notes: This wasn’t meant to happen, I was really happy with how chapter one turned out but my brain wouldn’t let me sleep until I started writing

Part One

Part Three

Part Four

Read on AO3

The Family

—3—

The mansion beamed with eager energy as people came and went up the stairs, down the corridors; there was a family gathering in the making and soon all the Shelby family would be together. It would be the first time the servants of the house will be witness of all of them together. Yes, they knew them and of course, had seen them before but never in fullness. The Shelby’s worked in teams, and pairs, in triads of relentless dedication to business and increasing power. But for one night, the fights would be forgotten, altercations left behind and confrontations moved for another day. Tonight was a night to celebrate.

It seemed like The Shelby Company was ready to go wide in America, expanding their business, opening other offices and navigating into new markets.

With a soft know on the door, the servant walked into the office. Mister Shelby sat on his chair drowning in paperwork, his never ending cigar was lighted up and resting between his fingers, but the boy felt pleased to recognize the pair of spectacles on top of the man’s nose.

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, he spoke.

“Your family will be here in half an hour, sir.” Shelby groaned in response but that was it. The young boy stood up tall and kept talking. “They are expected to have dinner, sir.” Once again mister Shelby agreed in a loose matter. “Will you be dinning with them, sir?” At last, that simple comment seemed to catch the man’s attention long enough to make him look apart from his documents.

With relentless dedication the boy fought his fears and stayed in place giving his boss a clear vision of his concerns. They had yet to convince mister Shelby to eat with Charlie, left alone with his whole family. Would there it be necessary to place a plate at the head of the table? Would the Shelby’s eat without Thomas?

Thomas sighed trying to drive away the tension on his shoulders at the memory of his family in one table but decided to wash the concern from his servants heads.

Even knowing it would be a waste of time, Thomas agree. “Yes.” The boy nodded and rushed back to finish up.

The dining room was a vision, a dream or a tale of tales like princess and royalty. The candelabrums shined in sparks of life, the table beautifully dressed in a snow white tablecloth, pristine silverware and opaline glasses refracted the light in different colours. The teasing heat of the kitchen was far from the room but the excitement for a warm meal was never down. Bottles of champagne were opened and chit-chat was all over the place.

One by one the Shelby’s made an entrance.

The food was delightful and soon the bubbly sweet beverage was forgotten for something stronger. Charlie was put to bed after playing with his cousins and saying goodbye to all his uncles and aunt; the nanny followed suit with a short reverence.

The night was young when the Shelby’s decided it was time to talk business and he stood by the door; the servant wasn’t sure he was allowed to stay, it were private matters, however, before he could voice his way out, the younger sister asked for more.

“Be a darling and serve another glass, would you?” Ada shook his empty glass in the air with a friendly smile.

“Yes, Miss Shelby.” The girl couldn’t help but show his discomfort at the name and it was all clear in her features. Being called that in business was a given, but after hours, in family company she preferred to be called by her name and her name only. So, she told him much.

“You don’t have to be formal, love.” She accepted the drink and saluted to his face. “My name is enough.” The boy, first time, looked conflicted as if he wanted to pleased the lady, it was a Shelby after all, but didn’t wanted to loose respect. He was a servant, they were rules and respect was primordial.

“I apologize, Miss.” He whispered finally conscious of how the rest of the family were watching their interaction. “I cannot do that.”

“Why is that?” Ada asked promptly, not mad but mostly curious.

“Miss— I, uhm...” staggering his voice in nervousness, the boy tried to make himself clear although was failing and massively. “I am.. most unable to... can.” Ada laughed opening and without restrictions causing the boy to sober up in flying colours that painted his cheeks and nose.

“Oh, brother—“ her accent splitting over. “Where on earth did you manage to find this one?” The rest of the family laughed wholeheartedly as he rested back on his post.

So, for the rest of the night, the Shelby’s made their mission to brake the boy’s formalities. And after a few hours, they almost succeeded.

Ada, as much to please her, passed from restrictively being name ‘Miss Shelby’ to a ‘Miss Ada’ with casual ring that let her smiling but compromise enough to the boy’s stubbornness to not drop his rightful tone.

Polly, now. After threatening to mark his pretty face —once again, they laughed at his expenses while his cheekbones blushed with a deep crimson—, felt herself in a win as the boy left to be respectful enough to keep the title but informal enough to call her by her name. And so, Mrs. Polly had another drink.

The oldest Shelby was the toughest on them so far, as the man kept asking to absolute drop all those fancy words and call him by his bare name.

“C’mon, lad. I know you can do it.” Arthur told him resting a heavy slap on his back almost making him fall. That was the time where, he couldn’t help but ask for guidance. With a fleeting glance to the man at the end of the table who watch with a heavy stare, he asked permission to fulfill Arthur’s request without being disrespectful.

Mister Shelby sat impassively on his chair, the smoke slithering from his parted lips while another cigarette filled his lungs with nicotine, the man said nothing blinking slowly.

Only then, after the boy sweat under his family’s interested eyes, Thomas lifted an eyebrow as if challenging the boy to do as he pleased.

Challenging to do what? To give in to his brother’s demands? To remain silent and being the target of their banter? To keep his formalities and hang in danger with the possibility of angering any of the family members? What was the right answer?

“Oi, Tommy!” Arthur called for his brother. “Don’t be a piss and let the poor boy speak.” The poor boy hid his eyes in shame, he never intended to insult his master. “C’mon, boy.” Arthur asked once again.

“Yes...” He consciously swallowed feeling his lips dry. “Yes, Arthur—“ the family around them cheered happily finally reaching their goal. “—, sir.” Ada huffed and crossed his arms in a mock tantrum.

“And just for that you’ll get me a new glass.” Yes, Miss Ada. The boy nodded openly smiling and rushed to change the woman’s glass that was half empty. Thomas toasted in silence lifting his glass to his sister and hid a short lived smiled that wanted to appear at the corners of his lips.

—4—

Miss Ada asked for tea after everybody went to sleep so he complaint. Gingerly placing the cup and the kettle, he was about to leave when the girl called his name.

“Yes, Miss Ada?”

“Would you stay with me for a moment?” Giving a wordless positive answer, the young one came close to the woman and stood with his hands behind his back. “Oh, boy! “Ada almost dropped his cup. “Would you sit down already!” Flustered acceptance of his permission to sit with the girl, the servant spoke a soft apology, he was not used to being treated with such familiarity. He had been working in the manor for years now and even thou everybody was polite and nice and friendly with each other, there were certain things that were never meant to happen such as sitting with their masters.

“But I’m not your master.” Ada left his concerns to be blown away as she wanted a simple and honest conversation that didn’t involved her brothers, her family or their business.

“Alright, miss.” He stated in confidence. “What would you like to talk about?” That’s how Ada learned about his family, about his childhood and the town he used to live.

The boy’s father was sent away to the Great War and for years they didn’t know any good news, all their neighbors became widows and orphans and those long sleepless night took a life from his mother.

By the time his father came back, they were all ecstatic until they realized the man had come back from war but the war hadn’t let him go.

His father may have come back but in reality he never came back. So one day, after a younger version of himself was sent to school, his father had gone out, walked to their garden and shot himself with his gun for his poor mother to find him in a pool of blood with a disfigured face.

His mother’s life was short lived after that. She couldn’t bare the thought of existing without his beloved and soon her health decayed. She died shortly of a broken heart no matter how much he cared for her. That’s why he left his home town, said goodbye to his parents and sailed for adventure knowing that they were together and happy once more; he hadn’t given religion much thought but he liked to think his parents watched over him.

He finished his story with a wobbly smiled before panic painted in his face due to Ada’s tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh, no! Miss Ada, please.” He fussed over her scared and terrified. “Please, don’t cry! I’ll do anything, just please!”

“You, silly boy.” Ada cleaned her face and tucked the boy into an awkward hug by the time he stayed half kneeling in front of her. “You suffered so much and you’re still worrying over me.”

“But, Miss—“

“Hush now, just let me.” Uncomfortable and odd feeling the servant stayed in his master sister’s arms receiving comfort like no other in such a long time. He sent silent prayers of gratitude.

Neither paying attention of the shadowy figure at the door threshold.

After guiding Ada to his room and promising to her that he was in fact living a good life under her treacherous, devilish tyranny of brother, the woman left to sleep.

The servant finally felt how truly exhausted he was, long hours of working flying away in awe, music, conversation and laughter. He only wanted to go to his room and pass out for a few hours before it was time to get on his feet once again. And so close to his goal he was until he was intercepted by Polly.

Mrs. Polly was dressed down, forgotten the beautiful outfits were to be lived in a casual sleepwear, a long satin undergarment in a pale green with details in black, her face clean of make up shine by the moonlight. She was a dream.

The woman sultry walked until she faced him and smiled luxuriously with all the power she had.

“I’m surprised to see you up, boy.” There was something in her tone that left him uncomfortable, effaced was the easy mocking tone from the evening, now Polly seemed to denigrate him with even her looks.

The woman has seen and witness the silent conversation this unknown boy had had with her nephew and only served to race her alarms after catching the pleased and satisfied air Thomas portrayed the rest of the evening. Her nephew usually had two thoughts in mind: business and mindless fucking, and even the later was used as a way to achieved what he wanted, so the woman questioned herself, and an answer she would get.

It wasn’t difficult to trap the boy into her body and one of the tables at the living room, the open space was perfect, anybody could see.

“Missus—“ The low tone reached Polly with tint of desperation, it was clear to the woman that the poor boy would fly away the moment he could, but she wasn’t letting him go until her doubts were settle. Polly smiled long and languid, caressed the servant’s scared face with her fingertips until she reached for his clothesline in top of his belt.

The servant was mortified, he could reassured he was shaking like leaves in autumn while mrs Polly had her fun; he didn’t understand what the woman was after but he honestly prayed she would stop.

“Tonight, boy...” Polly came close enough for the servant to feel her warm breath. “You will serve me.” A switch was off on his brain, did missus Polly needed something outside of the obvious attempts which he in oblivious tried to surpass.

“Mrs. Polly, if you need anything I’ll try my best to serve you.” The woman frowned not quiet pleased with the servant’s reaction; if she was in the rights then the boy wouldn’t survive working for her nephew. A pretty boy to keep his bed warm wouldn’t go far in the world, even thou, there were rare cases, such as Lizzie.

“Oh, darling...” her voice crawling down the boy’s spine send chills not quiet pleasant. “There’s much you can do.” Polly went for the boy’s trousers and the young one yelped looking to escape her advances. “You will serve me well in the sheets.” Polly could almost laugh at the boy expenses, his reactions were too pure and innocent-like to not to play with, it would be both a delight and shame if he surrendered.

“Mrs. Shelby—“ the younger one angry whispered as his voice when a pitch high, in a bold flustered move, the servant touch Polly’s wrists and smoothed his way out. “I apologize for my actions ma’am but this is something I cannot do.” The boy seemed afraid while he gather himself in a thought hug and for moments Polly felt bad for deceiving the young one. “If that is something you need, I’ll search for someone but that is some I won’t do.” The boy gather up his courage and stared down at the woman with fierce determination that made her feel proud —now she understood her nephew—. “Mrs. Shelby, I am not a whore.” The secret hatred with which the boy talked to her flailed some thoughts. But she still pushed him farther.

“You might not be, darling. But under the Peaky Blinders, if that’s what they want, that’s what you’ll be.”

“I do not serve the Peaky Blinders, ma’am.” Finally seeing a way out, the servant rushed down the hall, almost running as he thought was far enough from the woman and hid in the first door he came close. Polly saw him leave with a satisfied feeling.

The poor boy felt like crying. None in his years of service he had been put into such position. He worked hard, he served well, kept his eyes close and ears shut when business were to be discuss; he tried his best to meet mister Shelby’s necessities but never he imagine he would be ask for something in that capacity.

His hands started to tremble as the embarrassment and shame began to grow in his belly. His heart raced in his chest, loud and clear to his ears and his mind was all over the place.

Had he done something wrong? Had the family gather that impression from him? Did everybody share the same thoughts of Mrs. Shelby? Did Mister Shelby had the same thoughts? Had he embarrassed his master in front of his family? He wanted to cry in all honesty, silliness and need for comfort. He began to talk to himself out loud trying to wash away the anger and mortification, the pain and shame the whole ordeal had caused him.

The boy leaned onto the door feeling the cold touch in his forehead and started to speak.

“You are not that. You are not what they said you were. You are a good servant. You do good. You are not a whore. No matter what they say, you are not a whore.” You’re not. You’re not. You’re not a whore. Memories of past pain came to life. A friend of his had suffered from the same sorrow as the people from town started to repel her for bringing a child to this world outside of a healthy marriage. She was known as the Old Town Whore.

She left one day with her daughter and he never saw her again.

“You’re not a whore.”

“Who says you’re a whore?” The ring of mr. Shelby’s voice at the other side of the room was an unpleasant and absolute unexpected plus terrifying; in his hurry and shame he had not seen where he was heading. The servant turned surprised as if being caught doing something ilegal. Jumping out in his spot, the boy looked at his master with every inch of shame while questioning if anyone in that bloody family ever slept at regular hours. Finding each member of the Shelby’s family at late hours was not good for his nerves. “And well?” Mr. Shelby was know for his short temper regardless to patience making it obvious in his features.

The impression was such, they boy thought he would pass out in pure panic, his master could read him like an open book. Mister Shelby sat in silence waiting for his young servant to speak while they boy seemed troubled with each passing second. The young one was about to cry if his eyes weren’t tricking him, and Thomas didn’t relish on that sight at all. Who had caused the boy deep discomfort?

“Tell me, little one, what’s wrong?” As if being relief from his sorrows, the boy talked and talked non-stop by his thoughts of the evening, how he worked hard and hoped his family hadn’t taken a wrong impression of his persona. He wanted to believe he was good but after being cornered in the looming, deserted halls, the boy feared the worst.

“I swear, mr. Shelby— I didn’t mean to... I only tried to do my job." The boy started to heave. “Sir, I swear, I would never... I never intended to... I’m not—“ finally a lonely tear fell down his cheek. “Sir, please, believe me, I’m not— I’m not that.” In his own innocence, Shelby noted, the boy wasn’t even able to call himself a whore.

The servant in his share discomfort hadn’t realized mister Shelby was close. Long forgotten was his seat at his desk in the center of the room and slowly, soundlessly started to reach out to him. The boy was only conscious after feeling Thomas’ flexed index finger brushing against his wet cheek and watching how the man cleaned the salt away with his lips.

“Tell me. What did they say?” The order was clear. Thomas already had a fair idea onto who could be the perpetrator but he wanted to hear from his servant first.

“I had to serve in someone’s sheet... by order of the Peaky Blinders.” The little one’s lower lip trembled in humiliation, his cheeks fired up like a beacon in the midnight sky. Thomas was glad the boy had sheltered his gaze back down so he wouldn’t see the amused smirk his master was sporting at the time.

“And what did you say to that?” The boy stilled himself for a short while and Thomas inquired if they had finally broke the poor mind, when his boy impressed him once again with a share of honest devotion.

Meeting his master’s piercing eyes, feeling his own knees shake through the force he was using to keep it together, he spoke with conviction that characterized him.

“I do not serve the Peaky Blinders, sir.” The young one took a sharp breath before continuing his short speech. “I am a servant of the Shelby Household Manor and so, I serve the Shelby’s family, I am at service to you, sir. I serve the head of the family, Thomas Shelby.” In the heated spur of the moment he forgot to mind his words, the young one has never said his master’s voice out loud nor even in confidence, and some how that idea filled Thomas with warm delighted joy. It felt good to see his servants passion.

The shared a quiet moment, seconds before the young one came to notice what he had done. An undignified feeling washed over the servant and lower his head hiding his gaze from the man; it was obvious his guilt to the man.

“Look at me.” The mister said in a low tone an slight distortion of his strong will and demanding stance. The boy refused by shaking his head and Tommy wanted nothing but to hit him light at the back of the head. “I said... Look at me, little one.” Finding Thomas clear eyes was a shock like no other; it wasn’t new to see his master but it felt like it he was under a different light. Something closer, warmer.

“It’s alright.” Thomas peaked a ghost smile so the boy could see. “You did good, little one.” Brushing his cheek one more time, Tommy lightly touch the boy’s chin and soon the heavy atmosphere fade away. Repeating his reassuring words, Tommy let the boy go.

“You did good.”

#Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby x Male Reader #Tommy Shelby x Male Reader #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby/Male Reader #Thomas Shelby/Male Reader #Peaky Blinders #Cillian Murphy #Shelby Household Manor #mis escritos #in english #arte muerto #Male Reader #Reader

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spnfanficpond · 4 years

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November Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE NOVEMBER’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

One And One Make Three (series) by @supernatural-jackles

This series was absolutely stunning, beautifully written, and an amazing rollercoaster of emotion. Jen handled some very sensitive subject matters with grace and wit. It has ALL the feels; I cried, laughed, and loved right along with the characters.

Nominated by @manawhaat

Heart Of A Killer (series) by @wi-deangirl77

I love, love, LOVE, this series! The storytelling is done so simply but so effectively. Things come together beautifully and the dialogue throughout the series (and largely in ch.3) has an incredible flow and easiness to it. This tells you the story without all the bullshit but definitely with all the juicy drama and Ketch-i-ness that an Arthur Ketch lover could want.

The Right Kind Of Wrong (oneshot) @kittenofdoomage

I’m a slut for a Winchester sandwich and this one delivers. It’s Rhi. Just fucking read it and thank her for existing, okay?

Castiel Imagine (oneshot) by @webcricket

I don’t read too much Castiel because, even though I love him, I have a hard time finding authors who nail his character the way I want to read him but Cricket always gets him spot on! This is light-hearted, flirty, sweet, and hints at sexy. Plus, a flustered Dean is never not funny.

Nominated by @lovetusk

It All Started With Some Itching Powder (series) by @iflostreturntosteverogers

You’ve got to love brotherly banter and prank war aftermath.

When You Fall (series) by @flamencodiva

I stumbled across this bad boy by accident and totally forgot I was suppose to be writing / editing because it sucked me in so good and I ended up binging all the chapters.

Nominated by @princessmisery666

Sam’s Holiday Fluff (oneshot) by @crispychrissy

This one made my heart smile. It was sweet and the characters were on point. It was nice to read Sam getting a happy moment ;)

Just Friends (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

This one was painful but I still want more. I need part 2. Which is a testament to the awesome writing and the awesomely wicked idea ;-)

Like Art, Like Fire (series) by @fangirlxwritesx67

I loved this. Love me some Sam anyway, but this was perfect. There were so many lines that had me swooning but one of my favs was - “Your bodies looked like art, lascivious art. In his grasp you were comfortable and beautiful and utterly shameless.”

Love it!!

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

I Believe That Strippers Are The Future (oneshot) by @cherry3point14

Everything Cherry Pie writes is so funny until it’s suddenly hot. This one’s particularly hilarious and then scorching.

The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right by @stusbunker

I joked that I was no longer talking to Stuart Marie (not her name, but that’s what I call her) after she wrote this and sent it to me, but I kid. That said it’s fucking heartbreaking, and her words and arrangement thereof are so beautiful I wanna cry.

Not All Mutants Are Monsters (oneshot) by @negans-lucille-tblr

I sent this prompt to Bethany Elizabeth (not her name, but that’s what I call her) and never thought she’d take it. Alas, it is written and it is DIVINE. I lovvvvvvve Wanda + Dean + Natasha. Ugh, so much.

Rambling (series) by @crispychrissy

The characterizations, the goddess, Dean. LOL I love this fic. It’s sassy (I was actually picturing the latest incarnation of Lillith as the goddess) and suspenseful and just balls out fun.

Need (oneshot) by @rockhoochie

This is cozy and sexy and so gratifying. This is exactly what Dean (and we all) needed after the Michael debacle.

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Anything You Can Do (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

Just good old-fashioned smut with both brothers that just hits the spot. It’s like Thanksgiving dinner. This is comfort food for the fangirl libido!

Dad Gets Awkward About These Things (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This is so adorable! Awkward Dad!Dean, suave and all-knowing Uncle Sam, this is perfect!

You’ve Got Me Begging (series) by @negans-lucille-tblr

Holy SHIT this shit is the SHIT, man. It’s got everything! Smut with all three Winchesters, plus tender moments with Sam, F/F for those who are into that, kinks galore, and intrigue, to boot! The plot twist in the most recent chapter has me completely flabbergasted. I really didn’t see that one coming!! Just, you know, HOLY SHIT!!!

Start of Something Good (series) by @tricia-16

It took me a while to narrow this down to just one fic of Tricia’s to nominate now that she’s a member of the Pond, but I finally settled on this one. It’s got Dad!Cas, toddler Claire being adorable as hell, lots of delicious angst for Dean and Cas to work through, and all the pining! I love to hate it when they just need to accept that it’s all good, but they can’t quite, yet, so they PINE. Tricia’s stories are so REAL, and it’s so refreshing. There’s some violence in this one you might not like, so check the tags!

Crash Into Me (series) by @crashdevlin

Some folks don’t like OFCs, but I love them, and this series is definitely worth reading, even if you don’t! I’m rooting for a happy ending for Crash! And Dean’s trying so hard. This one hurts so good!

Nominated by @littlehotmess26

Dear Santa (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

She did a great job on this fic after taking a little break and I am so proud of her! This fic is so cute with Dean writing a letter to the big man in red!

The Mobster’s Girl (series) by @fictionalabyss

Mel has worked extremely hard on this set of series and it shows. It’s well thought out and executed. Her writing grabs you and takes you along for an incredible ride!

Nominated by @wingedcatninja

Hark And Hush (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

I’m not usually that much into purgatory!Dean, but this fic is a hauntingly dark delve into Dean’s mind. It made me feel emotions, and that’s what a good fic is supposed to do.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#afa masterlist #spnfanficpond #angel fish awards #spn fanfic #spn fic rec #supernatural fanfiction

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sunsetscurving · 5 years

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honey, you should see me in a crown [modern royalty AU]

CHAPTER 3 || ao3 link

Lucas Lallemant, crown prince and heir to the throne, never needed someone to protect him. He never needed someone to protect him until the day he nearly got stabbed by an assassin.

Now he has to deal with an annoying bodyguard named Eliott Demaury who is, to the chagrin of Lucas, fucking handsome too.

As if his life isn’t difficult enough already.

lucallemant: guys, I swear, I felt like being in a fucking movie

y4z4s: this is straight out of a romantic film

basile_simple: I cannot believe that he literally followed you from the club and saved your ass

monvoisintuturo: the following thing could also be considered as stalking???? Just saying

lucallement: shut up arthur & @basile_simple yeah, me neither. I thought I would never see him again

monvoisintuturo: setting the stalking plot aside: yeah ofc, you guys made out over the whole dance floor and you think it was unbelievable that he didn’t follow you?

lucallement: well, my flirts usually do not save me from the police

basile_simple: he has a point arthur

Lucas was still laying in his bed, shirtless, smirking up at his phone which he held above his face. He told his friends the whole story as soon as he got into his room again. The guards hadn’t caught him that night and when his parents came breathless into his room, searching for him everywhere, he was pretending to be asleep, shocked that his parents disturbed him this late at night. But this was not the first time he snuck out and his parents finding him in this situation as if nothing happened. And regarding the events and the near-death of Lucas, he had to endure a long, long speech about how dangerous his nightly adventures are and how the bodyguard will finally keep him in check. Cece, who was also awake to that time, had only chuckled.

It was morning now and in some hours, he would meet his new bodyguard for the first time. His parents told him that his bodyguard actually wouldn’t arrive until the end of the week, but considering Lucas being way to careless, they ordered him into the castle and into duty already today.

Lucas looked back onto his phone and their chat. The stranger, Eliott, hadn’t left his mind since their encounter in the night. And he desperately wanted to find him again, only to see, if the vibes he felt between them were also real in a sober state of mind.

lucallemant: you guys have to do me a favor

basile_simple: 100% yes

y4z4s: 100% not

monvoisintuturo: could you please stop with your bantering and let the man speak?

Lucas quietly chuckled to himself about the dumbness of his friends.

lucallemant: since the nightly adventures have to stop now…

basile_simple: rip nightly adventures :((((

lucallemant: you guys have to find Eliott for me

There were no new messages for some moments and Lucas asked himself if he did something wrong. But suddenly, his phone didn’t stop to vibrate from all the incoming messages all at once.

y4z4s: as if we will find him again under thousands of people

basile_simple: omg we’re playing cupid YESSS

monvoisintuturo: gimme a description of him and I will find him in less than 24h

Lucas loved the enthusiasm of his friends. They acted like Lucas was going to marry tomorrow.

lucallemant: he was tall, messy hair, bright eyes with a… idk how to describe their color, it seemed to change all the time and yeah, he wore black clothes and he looked like a guy who liked to wear black clothes? And his name is Eliott… And he likes to dance… kinda dorky…

Lucas stared at this message and just realized now that all of these things were true for every second young man on the street.

basile_simple: well…

monvoisintuturo: gotcha. we will just visit every club in this town and find every man with the dorkiest dance move, hoping to find your man that way.

y4z4s: this will be the worst mission of my life.

lucallemant: I appreciate every effort, love you guys <3

basile_simple: nawwwwwwww

y4z4s: we love you too, mec

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. Time to get ready and meet his new rusty and old grandpa bodyguard. But at least he knew that someone was looking for his disco boy now, that he would eventually find him and endure this special feeling inside of him again whenever he glanced his way.

lucallemant: time to meet grandpa bodyguard now

basile_simple: let him know who the real boss is here

lucallemant: that would be my dad……….

y4z4s: just show him that you’re no kid who needs protection or something else, maybe he’ll disappear magically from the surface somehow then

monvoisintuturo: “magically” *pulls out mask, ready to kidnap lulu’s bodyguard*

lucallemant: you guys are unbelievable, I’ll miss you all

y4z4s: we’re not out of the world, mec. tell us how the meet up went

basile_simple: yeah, we wanna know everything

monvoisintuturo: go slay ‘em Lulu!

lucallemant: will do, arthur

Lucas smiled and locked his phone. He was glad to still have the support of his friends, also when things seemed to go southward way too fast. But maybe this whole bodyguard thing wasn’t as bad as he thought right now.

Lucas got out of the bed and laughed out loud at his own thoughts.

As if. This will be hell on earth.

His mum wanted Lucas to wear the best clothes he had. As if any of his clothes weren’t the best things in the country. Lucas found himself in front of the mirror, wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath and a black trouser which matched his suit jacket. He looked good, he had to admit to himself – like a prince. He drove a hand through his messy hair and he asked himself if there would be ever a day where his hair decided to cooperate with him. Today was definitely not that day.

When he emerged from his room, Cece already waited for him, sitting on a bench opposite from his room, her little legs dangling. Her eyes lit up and she ran towards Lucas as if the both of them hadn’t seen each other for years.

At least his little sister would always be on his side.

“Princess, you’re looking stunning this morning”, said Lucas with a grin as he lifted Cece up and sat her down on his hip. She was wearing a pastel blue dress with matching hairbows which made her blonde hair look golden. He was walking down the hallway with her now, the guards slightly bowing their head whenever he passed one of them. Cece giggled and kissed Lucas’ cheek, Lucas’ mood lifting up a tiny bit in this moment of affection from his sister.

“You’re also looking good, Lulu.”

“Mum would’ve killed me if I didn’t.”

“That’s true.”

She giggled again and as long as Cece would live in this castle, there would always be light and joy.

“Have you already seen my bodyguard?”, asked Lucas, curious about what was awaiting him at the end of the hallway and behind that big wooden door. Cece only grinned, making a motion as if she was locking her mouth with an unseen key and tossed it away, behind her.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?”, asked Lucas, amusement playing in his eyes. And Cece’s grin only deepened while she nodded and her blonde curls where jumping up and down at this motion.

“Oh, come on”, sighed Lucas and leaned back his head in a theatrical gesture, “Well, then I maybe have to torture you…”, said Lucas now and started to tickle his little sister. Her bubbling laughter filled the otherwise empty hallways and Cece begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t until she said something.

“Okay, okay! I will tell you everything I know if you stop”, said Cece breathless while trying to wind herself out of his arms. Lucas stopped, his eyes sparkling with laughter and he looked expectantly at his sister.

“Well?”

“I—”

“Cecille.”

Lucas and Cece turned their heads at this firm and strong voice. His father was standing in the doorway to the throne room now, looking at them with raised eyebrows. Lucas set down Cece and kissed her head.

“Our guest is already waiting”, said his father with a serious voice and inclined his head towards the room behind him. Lucas had enjoyed the bantering between him and his little sister which had distracted him from the end of his freedom.

But also a prince must face reality in the end.

“Go”, whispered Lucas towards his little sister and she ran towards their father and into the room behind him. Lucas took a deep breath and followed his sister with slow and steady steps, walking past his father, trying to ready himself for what, or better, who, he would find now. Who would be responsible for the end of his already limited freedom.

The first thing he thought when he saw him standing with his back to him in front of his mother was:

Definitely not old and rusty.

He only saw his back for now, he was apparently in a conversation with his mum. His mum hadn’t seen him either and when he walked towards the both of them, he took in the other one’s appearance: he had to be around Lucas’ age (are people so young even allowed to be a bodyguard?) dressed in a black suit, messy hair, tall and—

Wait.

Lucas stopped in his tracks.

No fucking—

“Lucas! My darling”, said his mum now as her gaze landed on him over the shoulder of his new bodyguard. She was walking towards him but Lucas kept staring at the man who now turned around.

Lucas’ jaw dropped.

Someone is definitely mocking me here.

And the other one’s jaw dropped also as he finally faced Lucas.

This is a joke. A fucking joke.

“Honey, this is your new bodyguard”, said his mum now, pointing to the young man whose eyes Lucas would never forget.

This was some kind of dream.

In front of him stood the boy who hadn’t left Lucas’ mind since the past night. He looked refreshed and still more beautiful in the sunlight than under the night sky.

“Him?”, asked Lucas with a high-pitched voice as if this question would solve all the problems on this planet. Lucas was very glad that not only he seemed to be shocked, his opposite looked equally pale now.

If Yann, Arthur and Basile would have been here now, they would already lay on the floor, laughing so hard that they ended up having breathing issues.

But this was real.

Eliott, the beautiful boy who he magically felt so connected to, was his bodyguard.

And Lucas felt some kind of anger surfacing.

“Yes, him. We thought that someone around your age would be more… accessible for you”, said his mum now, apparently not realizing what was going on between Eliott and Lucas here right now. And well, how could she? She didn’t know that the both of them nearly jumped on each other the past night.

And now Lucas was supposed to listen to him like he was a little child? That Eliott-dorky-dance-boy was supposed to keep him in check?

No fucking way.

All of the sexual tension he felt between them was overlayered by some feeling of anger. Out of all the men in this universe, it had to be him?

Great, universe. Thank you.

Eliott seemed to find his composure again after some seconds where just pure shook took over his face. He took some steps towards Lucas, bowing before him, like he was supposed to, looking Lucas’ straight in the eye. There was nothing left of the love-drunken look on his face, this blissed out expression from last night. His cheeks weren’t flushed anymore after their run through the dark and Lucas also didn’t saw any longing in the face of the other one anymore. There was just pure professionality and Lucas was now sure that yesterday night was a dream or a product of the both of them being drunk as fuck.

“I’m honored to be in your service, Prince Lucas”, said Eliott now and Lucas was this close to laughing out loud at this ridiculous situation. If it hadn’t been sad and infuriating to the same time, he would have lost it by now.

“My name’s Eliott Demaury.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock”, mumbled Lucas under his breath although he didn’t want to. It just slipped past his tongue and his mum cleared her throat, reminding Lucas about his behavior.

And well, if Eliott didn’t want to continue where they left off last night, Lucas would also act like the prince he was supposed to be.

“Pleasure to meet you”, said Lucas with an ice-cold voice, never breaking eye contact with Eliott.

This is not hell. This is worse.

#hellooooo #the third chapter is here #and it‘s where lulu and his eliott meet #skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #skam france fanfic #skam france fanfiction #elu fic #elu fanfic #elucrownfanfiction

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thedevilinherself · 5 years

Text

Somewhere In Mexico Ch. 1

So this is me breaking down and posting my stories here again. I have quite a few followers here who don’t use Ao3 and I want to make sure everyone who follows me is able to get to my work. Also, Tumblr seems to have fixed their tag system, at least made it less broken then it was. So here you go. I am full force in the Red Dead fandom and loving writing for these cowboys so you can expect more in the future. Hope ya’ll like it! (Oh, and small Spoilers for chapter three. But it’s nothing big and or seriously plot related.)

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4

The rides back to camp always felt like they took too long. Especially after a bad heist. The stage coach that had been rumored to be transporting treasure had been nothing but a woman their informant had a grudge against. All that trouble for a few dollars and some jewelry had the boys in a sour mood.

The only consolation was the good company. Javier enjoyed Arthur and Charles’ banter. They were good men. Well, bad men, but good friends. He trusted them to have his back. And besides that, they were generally pleasant to be around.

“It just feels like everyone is getting restless. I reckon we need to make some good money. And quick. Then head west before the law gets wise.” Arthur grumbled, rocking with his horse’s movements as they meandered down the dirt path, the small but persistent hope lingering that a good heist would just cross their path.

“You don’t have to convince me. But Dutch thinks there’s money to be had with these two families. And he’s dead set on finding it.” Charles agreed, gaze lulling in the other two’s direction.

“Just going to get us in deeper.”

“Hey.” Pulling back on the reins, Charles nodded towards a clearing just off to the right. Among the flowers and tall grass stood a group of deer. Three or four of them. “We should at least bring back some food. Pearson has been on me about needing meat.” With a nod, Arthur and Javier reached for their rifles. “Not the guns. I ran into O'Driscolls around these parts the other day. A lot of them. Think they have a camp around here. Arthur, you still have that bow.”

Not needing further instruction, the blond took out the bow, readying a few arrows as he encouraged his horse forward enough to shoot around the others. With slow movements, he pulled back the string, taking aim before letting an arrow loose.

The cry of the deer would have been alarming if it wasn’t his millionth time hearing it. With it, one deer fell the ground, thrashing for a moment before stilling. The others wasted no time dashing off, running across the path ahead in their escape towards the woods. Feeling confident, Arthur again drew the bow, loosing another arrow in the direction of the fleeing dear. Again they heard the cry, the last deer falling to the ground. But this one managed back to its feet, disappearing down the path ahead and out of sight.

“Nice. I see you’ve improved.” Charles smiled, pleased with his friend’s shots. “You go get the fallen one. I’ll track the injured one. It can’t get too far.”

“Shoah.” Turning his horse in the direction of the field, Arthur seemed pleased with this turn of events.

“I’ll help. You have no room on the back of your horse anyway.” Javier offered, following his friend.

With that the men went their separate ways. The shot had been clean and the deer a nice catch. It was easy enough to load onto the back of Javier’s horse. Quickly lashed down and ready for the road.

“Alright, let’s meet up with Charles. If this area is as full of O'Driscolls as he says, we better not leave him alone too long.” Javier nodded, following the other as they started back down the road.

It didn’t take them long to find their companion. As they crested the hill, they saw him just down the road, deer already lashed to the back of his horse. Sitting tall on his horse, the man’s attention was taken by two figures that stood on the side of the road. Even from the distance, it was clear that it was a woman and a small child.

“Leave him alone for five minutes and he starts chatting up some woman. And here I thought you were the smooth talking one.” Arthur chuckled, giving his dark skinned friend a good natured smirk.

“We’ll see if he can keep her attention. Just make sure you don’t scare her off.”

With a laugh, Arthur rode ahead, followed behind by the other as they went to rejoin their friend. As they neared, they were able to pick up what was being said.

“I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s not safe out here. There are dangerous men out. And don’t take offense, but you don’t look prepared for a fight.”

“We don’t have much of a choice.”

“My companions are just over the hill a ways. We could give you a ride to the nearest town if you need.”

“Really? Bless you, sir. Bless you.”

“What seems to be the trouble?” Coming on the scene, Arthur came to a halt behind Charles, lazily sizing up the situation.

“This woman’s horse just got caught in a trap. She had to shoot it and was needing help finding the nearest town. I think it’d be best if we took them there. We have the time anyway and we could pick up supplies.” Charles expounded on the situation, looking between the two men who nodded before returning his gaze to the travelers.

But he was lost to you. The whole world fell away, lungs emptied, and heart clenched as your eyes locked on Javier. And as his eyes met your gaze, his expression fell, lips parting for the words that failed him. Your face, your hair, your eyes. Those eyes that saw through him, leaving him hollow.

“y/n” He breathed your name. The only thing he could bring utterance to as a thousand thoughts flashed through his head in a jumble of indecipherable emotion.

“Javier.” You answered on instinct, mind blank.

“What are you doing here?” He managed, the only thought he could work out enough to be cohesive.

Your hand tightened around your son’s causing him to jump before addressing you.

“Mamá?” Your son’s voice seemed the push you needed to get your wits about you. Pulling him close, you wrapped your arm around him, pinning the boy to your leg.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You asserted deffensively, gaze as cold as your heart.

“It’s not safe here.” Javier asserted, numb to your sharp tone. “At least let us help you-“

“Not from the likes of you.” Spitting venom, you pushed your son behind you, “We’ll find the way ourselves.” Turning, you hurried your son away, shushing his questioning as you quickly put distance between you and the men.

“What? Are you serious?” he exclaimed, stunned at your toxic response.

“Espero que un pollo te pique la polla!” You called back to him, never looking back as you rushed over the next hill and out of sight.

“What the hell was that about?” Baffled, Arthur looked from Javier to Charles, hoping the other had some clue as to what was going on.

“You know her?” Charles asked.

Face glowing red, the Mexican’s breathing was reduced to short, forced intakes of air, face contorted in rage. Both men were startled at the sight, the pure murderous fury that burned in his eyes unmatched by any experience they had with the man.

“We can’t let them go.” He growled, eyes still trained on the spot you had last been. “Arthur. Grab the boy.”

“What?” Alarmed, Arthur barely managed out the question as Javier began to spur his horse on.

“Just do it!” Racing off, there was no arguing with the man as he charged after you.

“Who the hell is she?” Arthur called after him, kicking into his horse’s side in an attempt to keep up.

“My fucking wife.” The men weren’t sure they heard him right as he shouted back to them. But there wasn’t time for questions.

As they overcame the hill, the two men were just in time to see Javier leaning off the side of his horse, scooping you up in his arm as you were wrenched away from your son. In any other circumstance, they would have been impressed just how gracefully the man scooped you up onto his horse. But in light of the impromptu kidnapping, the skill was secondary to the issue.

“Mamá!” The boy cried, suddenly alone in the street.

“Put me down you hijo de puta!” Claws and fist flying, Javier struggled to keep his horse straight on the path as you assaulted him.

Not brave enough to try the same stunt, Arthur slowed to a trot, grabbing a fist full of the boy’s collar to haul him onto his horse. Afraid to fall, the boy clung to Arthur, wailing hysterically as they raced off after you and your captor.

“It’s ok, boy. We’re just taking you somewhere safe.” He reassured, spurring his horse on till he was close on Javier’s tail. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t touch my son!” You screamed, shoving at Javier’s face as you attempted to grab at the reins.

With one hand, Javier was able to secure your wrists, pinning you to his chest as he did his best to ignore the stream of Spanish curses you hurled at him.

“Keep it down. With all this noise we’re bound to attract some unwanted attention.”

As if hearing their cue, the sound of hooves rolled in like thunder, from all sides.

“Get ‘em, boys!” The first two shots whizzed over your heads, but the third was too close for Arthur’s comfort.

“Shit! You done it now!”

“Split up! We’ll meet back at the camp. Arthur, I’ll help you guard the kid. Javier, see if you can give them the slip.” With no time to confirm as the numbers overwhelmed them, the men split off, disappearing into the woods as Javier continued down the dirt path, horse panting as if possessed.

“My son! Where are they taking my boy?” You flailed wildly in Javier’s arms, neck craning to try to catch sight of your son as a handful of men followed them into the trees.

“He’ll be fine. Arthur won’t let anything happen to him.” He reassured, ducking off the trail as bullets rained down on the two of you.

“Take me back. Take me to my son.”

“We have more pressing matters!” He asserted, leaning you forward as his horse jumped a fence. “You could help you know!” Releasing your hands to take a firm grip on the reins, Javier wasn’t sure giving you a gun was the best idea, but between you and the O'Driscolls, he trusted you a little bit more.

Pulling his gun from its leather, he could see the momentary flash in your eyes as the thought crossed your mind. But as another bullet came dangerously close, you thought better of it. Pressing against Javier, your arms wrapped around his neck, face pressed against his ear as you aimed the weapon at the closest man in pursuit.

A shot rang out, the gun bucking up in your hand from the recoil. The man ducked away, but was unharmed. Pulling the hammer back, you fired off again. And again. And again. You managed to pick off three of the men, whether fatally or just wounded you weren’t sure. But it was good enough at the moment.

“How many are there?”

“Five. I need to reload.”

“My satchel!” He called back, leaning into you as he took a sharp right turn to avoid a rock.

“Four.” You called out as one of the men crashed their horse into the rock Javier had dodged. Reaching into his satchel, you pulled out the box you needed quickly picking out six bullets before securing the box in the front of your shirt. Hugging against him to steady your hands, you hurriedly slipped the bullets into their slots.

“The boy. Is he…” Javier let his sentence trail off as a rider came up to his side, pointing a gun at the two of you. With a jerk of the reins, he rammed into the man, fist flying out to land a solid blow on the O'Driscolls’ face. The man tumbled off to be dragged by his horse as it veered away.

“He’s not yours, if that’s what you’re asking!” You shouted back, bitterness heavy in your voice.

Two more shots rang out and another man was down.

“You didn’t wait long.” Javier shot back, arm wrapped around you to secure you as he took another sharp turn.

“Longer than you deserved.” Another shot and another man. Now there was only one, slow and lagging behind. “Go faster, we’ve almost lost him.”

A few more sharp turns and the man was out of sight. Yet still, Javier did not slow. Through fields and forests and trails he rode on, maneuvering as if still under a barrage of bullets.

“Hey, stop. Stop!” Grabbing at the reins, you pulled back hard, almost causing the horse to rear back as it came to a sudden stop. “They’re gone. What the hell are you doing?”

“I had to make sure we weren’t being followed.”

“Well we’re not. Now take me back to my son.” Pointing the gun at his chest, your eyes filled his heart with ice and sent fire through his veins. In one quick move, he wrenched the gun from you, free hand grabbing a fist full of your hair to yank your head back. A small mewl of pain escaped you as Javier glared at you from under heavy lids.

“Point a gun at me again and I’ll break your hand.” Your breathing was heavy with anger, but you did not protest. Releasing you, the outlaw returned his gun to its holster before fixing you with a stony stare. You glared back, unwilling to give ground as you leaned as far from the man as your position would allow.

“Where is my son?”

“Back at camp. He’ll be safe there.”

“Take me to him. Now.”

“Fine.” His tone was gruff, but he obliged nonetheless. Pulling the reins, he started up a steady pace as the two of you made your way back to camp.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two of you. Neither willing to say any of the things that flooded your minds. The landscape was unfamiliar as he carried you on, but you did you best to remember it, not wanting to be left at the mercy of his compassion once you were reunited with your son. After a long stretch of road had been traveled, Javier broke the silence.

“What are you doing this far north? I thought you said you’d never leave Mexico.”

“I already told you, it’s none of your business.”

“Did you come here with the boy’s father?”

“None of you-“

“Who my wife sleeps with is my damn business.” He retorted, voice a warning as his hands clenched around the leather and his handsome visage was shaped by his furrowing brow.

“Well I’m hardly your wife anymore.” You snorted averting your eyes.

“How come when we were together you always told me you didn’t want kids. Didn’t want to raise them in a world like this. But as soon as I’m gone you get knocked up by whatever man will warm your bed.” You startled a few birds with the loud sound of your hand on his cheek, holding back none of your strength as you expressed your displeasure.

Javier was stunned for a moment, his face stinging as you glared daggers at him, cheeks red and expression indignant. You knew he would retaliate, but you hadn’t expected his tongue to force its way down your throat, nor his hand at the back of your neck, forcing the kiss deeper still.

With a strong shove you had him off you, spitting and cursing as you wiped at your mouth, cheeks furiously red. You couldn’t read his expression, or his eyes. Something so familiar yet so foreign in the way his eyes lingered on you.

“It’s getting dark.” He finally spoke, as if nothing had happened. “We better get back to camp.” Eyes returning to the road, he didn’t speak another word, stoically silent as he wound his way through the growing darkness.

Wandering into another lining of trees, you were startled when a voice called out in the dark.

“Who goes there?”

“It’s me, Karen.” Javier answered back, never slowing his horse.

“Javier? Is everything alright? Arthur said y’all ran into trouble.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Well good.” As the voice again replied, the lights of a fire caught your eye, the trees thinning to reveal a clearing on the water’s edge.

When Javier had said camp, you had pictured a small cluster of tents the three men occupied. But this was a whole operation. Everywhere you looked there were people and horses and tents. It might as well have been a small town. Leading his horse up to a hitching post, Javier was quick to dismount, offering you a hand that you shrewdly refused.

“Javier. My boy. You’ve returned safe at last.” A deep voice boomed over the camp, a well dressed man approaching the two of you with open arms. “And you’ve brought a guest. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dutch Van Der Linde. Welcome Madam.” Taking your hand, the man lay a kiss to soft flesh, making you flush as he spared you a devilish grin. So distracted were you with the man’s greeting, that you missed the way Javier watched you from the corner of his eyes as he unloaded the deer from the back of his horse.

“Mamá!” Your heart leapt into your throat as you heard your son’s squeal. Looking over in the direction of a large campfire, you saw your boy sprinting towards you, lips split into a huge smile as his arms reached for you.

“Mi hijo!” Rushing to him, you scooped him up in your arms, his joyous giggling putting your heart at ease. “Are you well? Did they hurt you?”

“No, Mamá. We played games. They have a dog. And I made a friend.”

“Did you now? And here I’ve been worrying about you. And you’re off playing games.” You smiled, kissing his forehead as you did.

“It was fun, Mamá.”

“He’s a good kid.” A large, dark skinned man stepped forward. You recognized him as one of the men who had accompanied Javier. You spared him a nod, grateful that they had kept your son safe, but still distrustful.

“Thank you. But we must be going now.” With a grunt, Javier shouldered the deer, carrying it past Dutch as he leaned in close to mutter.

“Don’t let her leave.”

“Madam. I know your means of arrival were less than hospitable. But please, let us make it up to you. Stay. At least for the night.” Dutch again interjected, motioning towards the fire.

“We really should be going. I’d like to make it to the next town before morning.”

“Now, I’m sure you’re a capable young woman. But it’s a dangerous country out there. Full of delinquents and thugs. And with it being dark, well, I just wouldn’t feel right letting a pretty young thing and her son go out alone. Please, stay the night. We can prepare you a tent and I’m sure you need a warm meal.”

“Mamá, I’m hungry.” Your son chimed in, clearly enjoying his time here and wanting to stay.

“I’m not so sure.” Your eyes tracked Javier as he placed the deer at the butcher’s table. Dutch observed this, stepping in closer to steal back your attention.

“Madam. I give you my word, ALL my associates will be on their best behavior while you are here.”

“Please, Mamá. Please.” Your son chimed in. You couldn’t deny, you were hungry and tired. And the thought of the long walk to whatever town was near put an ache in your feet. Reluctantly, you agreed, assuring yourself that the camp was big enough for you to avoid Javier.

“Wonderful.” Dutch exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Mrs. Grimshaw! Please, help our guest get settled in. And see to it that she gets a warm meal.”

An older looking woman fussed over, barking orders at two of the other women to prepare a tent for you before leading you to the fire. You soon had a warm bowl of stew in hand. The flavor was lacking, but as hungry as you were, food was food. It didn’t take long for your son to scarf down his meal, fleeing to run around the camp with another small child that appeared a bit younger than him.

Every now and again your eyes would wander to Javier, comforted by the fact that he occupied a table on the other side of camp. As a few of the women joined you around the fire, you soon slipped into conversation with them, enjoying the company of other females. Something you had been lacking for the last few month.

Javier sipped on his beer, stewing in the emotions he hid beneath his indifferent facade as he watched you titter with the women. Too many memories and questions occupied his thoughts. And the beer wasn’t nearly strong enough to drown them.

“I’ve never seen a man sulking about, pining over his own wife before.” Javier spared his friend an unamused glance as Arthur sat down at the table, a pleased smile on the cowboys' lips.

“I’m not pining.”

“But you are sulking.” Arthur pointed out, leaning heavily on the table, beer in hand. “What even happened between the two of you? I’ve never heard you mention you’re married. Let alone had a son.”

“I’d rather not talk about it. And he’s not mine.” Despite his usual cool demeanor, Arthur could see that your appearance had shaken up something in the man.

“Oh, so it’s like that.”

“It’s not ‘like’ anything. Just leave it alone.” He shot his friend a warning look, but Arthur just smirked back.

“You can’t tell me that. I was there. I saw how you lost your head over her. That stunt you pulled I would have expected from Marston, but you?”

“Mr. Arthur! Mr. Arthur! Can I draw some more in your journal?” The men were interrupted as your son ran up, tugging on Arthur’s arm to gain his attention.

Both men turned to regard the child, Javier’s lips pursing as he studied the boy’s tan skin and dark hair. Feeling his gaze, the boy looked up at the other man and started. Ducking behind Arthur, he peered out at Javier from under the cowboy’s arm.

“You’re that bad man that took Mamá.” Javier raised a brow at the boy’s statement, finding himself in no mood to deal with the child.

“Now, boy. He ain’t a bad man. Just an- an old friend of your mother's.” Arthur assured.

“Really?”

“Shoah. Ain’t ya, Javier.” The darker man shot the cowboy a annoyed glare, but couldn’t refuse Arthur’s expectant gaze.

“Yeah. Old friend.”

“Mamá never told me about you.”

“Well, your Mamá never told me about you either.”

“You must not be a good friend then.” Arthur didn’t even try to hold back his laughter, fist banging the table as he howled. Javier found his patience wearing thin, just wanting to shoo the kid off so he didn’t have to stare into those large eyes that were so much like yours.

“Do you have a name kid?” He asked, preparing some scolding to chase the kid off.

“Carlos,” he answered, “Carlos Escuella.”

Arthur's laughter stopped, his face falling as he looked down at the boy who had answered so honestly. Javier’s eyes were wide. For the second time that day, words failed him. But Arthur spoke up for him.

“Escuella? Tell me, kid. Where’d you get a name like that?”

“My dad. Mamá says it’s all he left me.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella #arthur morgan #charles smith #javier escuella x reader #spoilers #spoiler #dutch van der linde #javier x reader #angst #drama #complicated relationship #my writing

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galadrieljones · 5 years

Text

A Funeral: Chapter 10 (Arthur Morgan x Mary Beth Gaskill)

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Arthur to the Rescue, Forests, Abduction, Angst, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. In their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another as well as to the future, and to the unchecked dangers of the natural world.

Thanks @bearly-tolerable for the lovely banner!! <3

For the rest of this story, you can visit the masterpost or AO3, both linked in the replies to this post and also at my blog. ^_^

Chapter 10: Deer Cottage, Pt. 1

Arthur woke up the next morning to sounds of joy, and to the smell of food. Something good. After his conversation with Hamish the night before, he had stumbled up like a right idiot to that loft and retook his heavy place by Mary Beth’s side. She had not woken once, barely even stirred without him, like the drama of the event with the Murfee Brood had wiped her out in ways she didn’t realize. For a while before he was able to fall back asleep, he kept glancing at her, watching her chest rising and falling in the dim lamp light, trying to picture his life in some distant but not altogether impossible scenario in which he was a husband, and a father, and something better and calmer than the man he was now. Isn't that what he was supposed to be? Part of him had always thought so. His body ached. He longed to start over. But when had there ever been a chance to do that? His life had railroaded him straight into this place of volatility quite outside his control. He had been navigating its paths of fluctuating morality since he was a goddam teenager, never privileged in such a way that he could recall the notion of home, or what home meant, or how to make one. Instinctually, he knew what it meant. But on the surface of things, he felt very lost. A true wanderer.

He heard Mary Beth’s voice down in the kitchen. He sat up, leaned over the edge of the loft to see what was going on. Hamish was sitting at the table, pouring coffee while Mary Beth was frying bacon in a pan on the stove. They were laughing about something. When Hamish noticed him awake he waved a hand and said, “Arthur, son. Come on down.”

And when she heard mention of his name, Mary Beth turned around, dressed and with her hair braided loosely down her back. It was tied at the bottom with a slight pink ribbon. She looked up at him and smiled, reminding him a little of a clean window. She said, “It’s about time. Come on. Hamish has bacon and eggs.”

Arthur climbed down the ladder, feeling underdressed. His hair felt unruly and he tried running a hand through it but he needed a comb, or a brush. It was getting long now, past his ears, touching his neck. Outside, it was sunny, no clouds, and the rain was gone, and it was birds singing. The shutters and the glass windows were thrown open. Mary Beth put down the spatula. She greeted him kindly, got on her tip-toes, kissed him on the jaw bone so that he blushed.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice like a whole bunch of gravel in his own ears. “What time is it?”

“About nine,” said Mary Beth, returning to her spatula. “You want some coffee?”

“Sure. I’ll get it.”

She went back to her flipping.

Arthur sat down at the table, across from Hamish. It was the exact same arrangement as the night before. There was a mug there waiting for him. He poured the coffee. It was hot and strong. He took a sip which flooded his insides with warmth and relief. Hamish was staring at him with a kind of knowing intensity. “What is it?” said Arthur, thinking there was something wrong with his face.

Hamish took a sip of his coffee, lowered his voice. “Everything okay?” he said.

Arthur scratched at the back of his head. He thought his hair must be sticking up at all angles. He was grateful for Hamish, and for their conversation. He felt about as screwed up as ever but he was still thankful. “Fine,” he said. “Thank you, Hamish.”

“Anytime.” Then Hamish turned to Mary Beth. He puffed up. He said, “Why don’t you tell young Arthur here what we did this morning, Miss Mary Beth.”

“What you did?” said Arthur. “How long y’all been awake?”

“Couple a hours,” said Mary Beth over the loud crackling of the bacon.

“Well, go on,” he said. “Tell me. What’d you do?”

She turned around, looking very pleased with herself. She wiped her hands on her yellow apron, which was too big, and probably belonged to Hamish himself. “I caught a fish,” she said.

Arthur smiled, huge. He slapped his hand down on the table. He felt immense pride. “Very good,” he said. “What kind of fish?”

“Just a little trout,” she said. “I threw it back. It wasn’t big enough to feed more than just me.”

“She did it all on her own,” said Hamish. “I provided only the bait. It was impressive. Looked like she’d been taught well.”

“Well I wish I could’ve seen that,” said Arthur.

“I’ll try again,” she said. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll catch something bigger next time.” She turned back to the bacon, which had finished. She removed the bacon from the pan with a fork and let it settle on a big plate lined with a clean white napkin. Then, she put the plate down on the table, and she began frying up some eggs right in the bacon grease.

They all ate well. Arthur asked Mary Beth to recount how she had made the catch. She told the story in a lively fashion. When they finished, Hamish made more coffee, and then went outside to feed the horses. While he was gone, Arthur and Mary Beth sat at the table, looking at their empty plates. Mary Beth stirred a half a sugar cube into her coffee. She had her chin resting in her hands. She looked a little anxious, but ordinarily dreamy.

Arthur waited to see if she would speak first. When she did not, he cleared his throat. “How you feeling today?” he said. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, looking up. “I slept well. I feel…good this morning.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said Arthur. He brought the mug to his lips.

“You know, Hamish told me about a cottage, in the Roanoke Valley," she said. "He says he goes there, keeps it up from time to time when he hunts. It’s been abandoned a while.”

“Oh yeah?” said Arthur.

“He said it would be a good place to stay, when we’s hunting moose. He said the Murfee Brood, they don’t bother you unless you’re camped out in the open.”

“Well, that is true,” said Arthur, looking at his hands. “They may be bold, but they’re primitive. They like easy pickins, and I’ve killed enough of them by now. I reckon that if we stay sharp and out of their way, we’ll be fine.”

She nodded, seeming surprised somehow. She glanced down into her coffee, which she had not touched since she’d added that sugar. “Sounds good,” she said.

Arthur got a little worried then. She didn’t seem right all of a sudden. “What’s wrong?” he said.

“Nothin,” she said.

“Something’s wrong,” he said, leaning with his elbows on the table, trying to catch her eyes. He spoke softly, like a secret. “I’m sorry, again. Mary Beth. I ain’t going nowhere. I know there’s…something up in the air. Between us.”

“Shh,” she said, getting bashful. She smiled now. “I ain’t fretting, Arthur. Not over you at least.” She looked up. “You keep forgetting that I know you. Probably better than you know you. So, no. I ain’t fretting.” She finally took a drink of that coffee. “Things ain’t solved, but they’re fine.”

It was almost amusing. He stared right at her. She was always funny, and she was always right. “Then what’s the matter?” he said.

“I just thought—I thought maybe you’d wanna call it off, that’s all. So I wasn’t getting my hopes up.”

“Call off what?” said Arthur. “The hunt?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I know you don’t like takin unnecessary risks. And after last night, I thought you’d wanna call it off.”

“Do you wanna call it off?” he said. “Because if you do, just say so. We can ride back west, maybe go to Valentine. There’s good hunting out that way, too.”

“No,” she said decisively. “We came all the way here. We gotta finish our quest, Arthur.”

Arthur smiled at this. They were staring at each other. “Good,” he said. “That sounds good.” He wrapped his hands around the coffee mug. It was cooling. He felt both relief and also a quiet excitement for the coming day. “There’s one caveat though,” he went on. He took a long drink.

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know that I fully expect you to pitch in from now on, Mary Beth.” He finished the coffee. Set down the mug. “With providing our supper, I mean. Now that you can fish and all, it’s only right.”

She laughed. She was surprised. She got up to shove him in the shoulder. She’d had to reach over the table and nearly knocked over her mug doing so. “You love to tease me, don’t you, Arthur Morgan?”

He was just smirking down into his empty cup. He hadn’t thought about it. But it was probably true. She sort of did know him better than he knew himself.

When Hamish got back, they cleaned up the kitchen, and Arthur got dressed, and then they all rode back to Arthur and Mary Beth’s dilapidated camp on the other side of the lake to see what they could salvage. It wasn’t much they’d left behind, but some of their things seemed to be gone forever. Arthur’s cooking gear was lost, and the tent, though intact, was mostly unusable by now. Luckily, they had not rolled out their bedrolls yet, and they were damp, but still safely stowed aboard the horses. Arthur was pissed about the tent, as he’d had it on him for some years, but Mary Beth said it would be okay. “We’ll get a new one.” She touched his arm. Hamish happened to have a spare that he lent them, and he also had an extra cooking spit and also a pan and even a coffee percolator that he was willing to part with. Back at the house, he helped them pack up their horses and as he hauled over that new tent he made sure that Mary Beth was out of earshot, and then he put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder and made eye contact, very strong.

“You’re a good man,” he said, real straightforward.

Arthur was biting on the inside of his cheeks. He didn't get the sentiment. “Hamish, you don’t have to—you’ve don’t enough for me already.”

“No,” Hamish corrected him. “I do have do, and I will. Look, I don’t just say that to any idiot I come across in a thunderstorm. There's something good in you. I can tell. Whatever you done wrong in your life that you feel is haunting you, it might never leave, but you should not be afraid of moving forward without it. You hear me? Leave the past in the dust, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur blinked, several times. He felt he might choke out from such forward wisdom. It had been a while since he’d heard any wisdom, not that he could rightly use for himself, what with Hosea and Dutch being consumed in their plans to escape the continent and all. He looked away and couldn’t lift his eyes from the distant waters on the lake, as they felt very heavy. He bit back on something real hard, some far away feelings of emotion, and he felt his jaw clenching and nodded with a practiced stoicism of which he sometimes felt he was losing control. He patted the old man’s hand once, a form of gratitude. He said, “Thank you, Hamish. Again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Hamish removed his hand from Arthur’s shoulder and glanced back. They both watched Mary Beth as she brushed her pretty horse. Then she fed it an apple and spoke to it in hushed tones. “Did she tell you about Deer Cottage?” said Hamish.

“Yes,” said Arthur, coming back to his memory. “She did. You’re sure it’s safe?”

“I was just there a week ago,” he said. “It’s safe, has locks on the doors, and I keep the flower garden planted so nobody gets too close. Hunters and wanderers, they get to thinking it’s full time occupied. Of course, take your regular precautions, but it’s such a lonely country up there, I reckon you shouldn’t run into any squatters.”

“Sounds good then,” said Arthur. "I think we’ll be okay.”

“So do I. Miss Mary Beth already has the key.”

Arthur handed Hamish his map then, and a pencil. Hamish marked the location of the cottage as just in the thick of Roanoke Ridge. Arthur scratched at the scruff on his face, felt feral. He had his hat on his head, the old hat he always wore fixed up with a careful arrangement of cardinal feathers. He watched Hamish say goodbye to Mary Beth, and Mary Beth promised him that they would be back again soon.

“Now that we know you’re up here, it’ll be hard to stay away,” she said.

“Don’t go doing me any favors,” said Hamish. He glanced back at Arthur. “But I’m always game for some good fishing, or hunting, if you’re in the area.”

“You can count on it,” said Arthur.

They said their goodbyes, mounted their horses, and headed east. It was not a far ride to Deer Cottage, but it would take most of the day. Arthur wanted to stick to the thoroughfares and avoid paths that might verge too near on the woods. Granted, it was almost all woods up there, creepy things on all sides, but he’d been up in Roanoke enough times during his own exploration that he understood the atmosphere, and if Hamish said this place was okay, he was trusting. Mary Beth rode with confidence by his side, and behind him on the narrow stretches. At one point, they stopped because there was a man, strung up by his neck from a tree, just off to the side of the road. Mary Beth was very distraught over this. She couldn’t stop looking. She wanted to cut him down and give him a burial.

“Who would do something so awful?” she said.

Arthur looked up along with her. Then he looked right at her, her many freckles. “It’s a trap,” he said. “We need to get moving.”

“A trap?”

The horses shifted. “Night folk,” he said calmly, patting Sarah behind the ears. “Just more animals walking upright, I promise you. Come on, Mary Beth.”

She sighed, followed. They trotted forward. Arthur looked around for signs of ambush but he saw nothing. No traces of man. Sometimes, these things were traps, he thought. Sometimes, they just were.

Everything was quiet after that. The hills got steeper around the valley and the ledges long, but it was so green up here. So filled with the sad and lovely blues of the forest and the big river. There were black bears and the occasional cougar. But the animals were a ways off the roads and rarely got too close but to spook the horses from afar. Sometimes, Arthur felt this place was haunted, so filled with ghosts, it’s like the trees were breathing. Once, he’d been up here late at night and he could swear he’d heard voices, strange ones. By god he assumed it was his imagination. But being back, he could not kick the instinct. Mary Beth, though, she was taking in the terrain with her wide-eyed excitement. She had a way of grounding the experience as something new. It wasn’t ghosts, or if it was, who’s to say they were agents of evil? Even that hanging man from a tall, tall tree seemed less grisly with her looking at it. Arthur realized so much of this was just about having company. Her company, and he was thinking again now about how much time he spent alone, and how that can spoil a man, surely if he ain’t got nothing to look forward to. He just liked her being there. It made him feel a little safer than before, a point which he was coming ever closer to acknowledging, as a man.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #mary beth gaskill #arthur x mary beth

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squidproquoclarice · 5 years

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What are full thoughts on Arthur and Sadie’s relationship, and also at what point of the game did you start shipping them? You’ve said a lot about them already but I really love your insights

My full thoughts on them will be fic length, so that’s a bit out of the scope of this Ask. ;)Overall, there’s a profound chemistry between them that develops into a beautiful relationship (romantic or whatever stripe you choose) by ch 6. They’re two lonely people who support each other through some of their worst moments. They enjoy each others’ company. They repeatedly express the sentiment that they’d sooner ride with each other than anyone else, that “you and me is all we need”. They make each other laugh and tease each other. They’re both intensely capable in their own right, and that makes for an equal partnership. They see and accept each others’ darkness while believing in the best in each other, even as they can’t see the best in themselves.I started shipping it in ch 3′s “Further Questions Of Female Suffrage” because Sadie comes to life in a big way in that mission. To this point, she’s spent the last couple of months very understandably withdrawn in grief and PTSD. She stands her ground, Arthur gives in (not without some snarky-ass commentary). But they go out, and the dynamic between them is fantastic. They’re giggling like best friends within minutes over Pearson’s letter. We see how incredibly awkward Arthur is around most women, expecting judgment and rejection, but that’s not the case here. It’s easy with Sadie and they hit a groove almost immediately. I think some of that is her being a recent widow and thus “off limits”. There’s no pressure or expectation, so he can relax, and just enjoy it. By the end of the mission, there’s something between them already. They’ve had fun, and he’s seen she can hold her own in a fight. Sadie sort of defiantly asking him “Are you gonna tell Dutch (i.e., Daddy)?” and him saying “Maybe, but then again…maybe not” is pretty much straight up Grade A flirting, especially with the choice to keep their afternoon together as their own personal secret. Not to mention you get the sense Arthur keeping secrets from Dutch, particularly about a ruckus right near camp, is not the norm. It continues all the way to the end of the mission with the “I would ride again with you, Mrs. Adler, if you will ride with me”, etc. So right from the get-go, you have a dynamic that’s witty, teasing, warm, intimate, and somewhat flirtatious.He writes in his journal about admiring her. He protects her in ch 4 during the O’Driscoll attack on Shady Belle, though he sees she’s damn capable in her own right in close combat. We unfortunately skip ahead at that point. Though it’s interesting to note that with the ch 4 “Bronte” glitch you can go to New Austin as Arthur without getting insta-murdered by bounty hunters. People have shown Arthur has point of interest journal sketches from these areas, and a cutscene for finishing the dino bones quest. So at some point, Arthur was intended to be in New Austin during the game, which makes sense. The fact that southern West Elizabeth and New Austin are so empty of missions and the like when we can finally access them in the Epilogue makes it feel like something major got scrapped there (cholera in Armadillo especially feels like mission-bait).

The mention of 5 hours-ish of cut content with a love interest, and screenshots of Arthur and Sadie riding together in what looks like Blackwater and New Austin, makes me believe in a theory out there that ch 5 was originally going to take place in those areas (and include more of the Sadie romance). Guarma as ch 5 psychologically works as a harsh deconstruction of Dutch’s “island paradise” delusion of Tahiti, but it’s a strange disconnect from the rest of the game, and very short, to serve as a full chapter. I think the Guarma content was possibly meant as part of chapter 5 given the island was apparently on the leaked map from a few years back, but that bigger part of chapter 5 was in Blackwater/New Austin and got scrapped because with them choosing to kill Arthur off in the end, the story beats and the romance with Sadie suddenly didn’t work. Anyway, then we skip to Lakay and ch 6 and see that when the chips are down, the dynamic between Arthur and Sadie is still warm, and there are a few hints of that flirty banter still (such as “Whatever you say, boss”/”I heard that!” at the end of “Icarus And Friends”). But things are so terrible that we see a lot more that there’s sincerity and support and care and validation and a fierce trust between them, and that’s what they both need most in that dark time. Their conversations at Hanging Dog Ranch and the Van Horn lighthouse are probably the two best expressions of their feelings for each other in the whole chapter.

#arthur morgan #sadie adler #rdr2 #sadie/arthur #sadithur #Anonymous

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tayegi · 7 years

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im crying not only bc of your amazing writing, but bc i was scrolling thru my dashboard and i saw you answering all these asks about new rules and i’m so dump thinking that you set up new rules or sthg, i didn’t understand it so i read all those asks and fucking spoiled myself kmp, but on another note yOU FUCKING ROCK OMG NEW RULES IS SO AMAZING I LOVE IT 💘💘💘

Anonymous said:I'M LOVING NEW RULES SO MUCH just wanted to show my support. i love your writing in general don't get me wrong but new rules is messing with my heart and it's amazing

Anonymous said:Hi! I just read both parts for "New Rules" and I loved them! If this goes in the same direction as Dua Lipa sings (I guess it will) it sounds like it'll be very interesting. I love how everyone in the story is human, not just good or bad, you know? 90% of fics would've made Mijoo the stereotypical barbie bitch, but you didn't and I was pleasantly surprised! I also feel very identified with the OC. I really want her to open up and discover who JK really is, whoever that is. Keep up the good work!

jabaelashit said:Hey! i already wrote you a message on one of your posts but i just wanted to say that i am feeling so skabakks right now, I can't stop thinking about new rules and i'm torn between crying or crying but w angsty. I hope oc learns her worth and can understand she's just as amazing as mijoo, even better if we're talking about morals but oh well people fuck up:( I'm glad she forgave her but I hope she distances from her cause that gurl ain't having the same respect for the friendship as oc/1

jabaelashit said:and i also hope she gets to tell jimin her feelings not to like make him break stuff w mijoo, but to let him know she hadnt seen the note and to release some pressure and feelings cause oc bottles up so much and i just want to go and hug her and don't leave her until she understands shes fucking badass and cool and that the way she thinks is 👏👏👏 lu you've made me feel such a diverse amount of emotions i don't know what to do w myself anymore, your writing is amazing! love love loove you❣/2

Anonymous said:Hey!!:) idk if this is the right place to send compliments cause im really new to tumblr but THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR FICS. Tbh I'd buy it if you published a physical compilation;)

Anonymous said:Wow for the longest time I was searching your old username; idek why cause I’ve known you changed your username and have been keeping up to date with you LMAO this is what being sick and delirious does to me. ANYWAYS! Hope you’re not too down with the crazy anons your story is great and I’m thankful for the dynamic characterizations you create! It makes it so much more interesting cause you create many characters with depth!!

Anonymous said:Can I please just have your writing talent? The OC is just so real, and that moment when she's deciding what to do with Mijoo, and what she actually says at the end.... I can't actually put my thoughts into words. I'm legit stunned by the sheer amount of emotions I felt reading the second chapter. I genuinely adore the banter between JK and OC, I personally prefer people to be more direct with what they want, so I already appreciate them, but also Jimin's convo with OC... (1/2)

Anonymous said:Jimin's convo with OC... Idk about these other anons going off on Mijoo, I was more thinking 'why didn't Jimin chase the note?' and then he would have had his answer then and there. But that might have just been me... And also, thinking back to it now, when JK said 'I need you' and OC repeated it back to him like super softly, like she was surprised oh god, okay, my heart is breaking even more for OC now, idk if I'm reading too much into it. I love you Lu, I hope you're well, and happy! (2/2)

Anonymous said:I love your fics so much!! The sass is real esp with jungkook 😂

Anonymous said:Anyways do ya thang hunny ✨ Keep wrecking me with your writings 💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨😩

Anonymous said:Read part 1 of New Rules and was like yeah thisll be fun, I'll have a great time. Then I read part 2 and ended up shedding some real tears at the end?!?! LU WHAT THE...... But really though its so nice to read a fic where the OC values friendship. The idea that its always girls against girls makes me sad.. we should be sticking together!!

Anonymous said:so... surprise surprise, dis gon be about new rules 😂 but I really wanted to thank you for adding so much of the oc's inner dialogue, and making her such a character in the first place. a lot of fics do not portray ocs with more defeatist attitudes, but yours does and I was glad, because I could finally relate to a fic :) also, coming back to the inner dialogue thing, it was so in depth that i could really feel what the oc was feeling, what she was going through. it was amazing ❤️ thank you!

Anonymous said:Man this is one hell of a good fic i’m highly anticipating the next chapter!!! Even though it seems like traditional frat fuckboy x ‘i hate frat bois but ye i’d fuck u’ type of girl it still is in a way a little different i just can’t quite catch how but nonetheless it’s amazing!!! Keep up the good work babe

oceanjoon said:ok so ur newest fic new rules literally is so real n relatable !! like honestly i understand seeking physical comfort in people u dont care about wen u r feeling down/insecure to validate urself n it just rlly hit home

kyarybunny said:Lu. At this point I have so many compliments to give you I can't really form it all properly. But I really am enjoying New Rules and this plot you're breathing life into! It's a different facet of your writing and I love how you can interpret every character's actions in a few different ways. Thank you for continuing to write and I hope you enjoy writing as much as we do reading/analyzing.

Anonymous said:Istg when I read the new chapter of New Rules I clenched my fist like that Arthur meme when it came up to the part about mijoo and the note. Girl got me heated lol. As usual, your works do not disappoint! I love your wittiness and how it shines in your writing. The remarks and dialogue in all of your series really proves your talent. You’re truly a gem amongst fanfic writers 💕☺️📢

Anonymous said:i was happily reblogging a few things on my dash and ch1 of new rules just came and i started reading WHERE THE FUCK DID I GET MY ASS INTO???!!!???!?! IT'S FUCKING AMAZING i don't know why i didn't start reading before. don't you ever dare stop writting, you're such a good writter and i enjoy your works very very much

Anonymous said:OC DESERVES HAPINESS JUST AS MUCH AS MIJOO. OC SHOULDVE PUT HERSELF AND HER HAPPINESS BEFORE HER FRIEND'S BECAUSE SHE IS TOO GOOD FOR ALL OF THEM DJFJFJ i hope one day jimin finds out about her feelings :(

Anonymous said:new rules just keeps getting better and better 😻😻

Anonymous said:Wow.. Okay.. I do believe chapter 2 of New Rules has officially ruined me. My heart was actually beating so fast through out the whole chapter, and it's still racing now too. I've thought this multiple times while reading your fics, but you're writing really is incredible. Your characters and the way you describe their emotions is so unbelievably relatable that the reader can't help but be sucked in. I always find myself becoming invested in your characters! Thank you for all the adventures!

Anonymous said:I felt so bad for the OC this chapter ;.; If I were in her position, I'd probably do the same since causing a scene is yes, immature and not worth the energy. But, if i could be a character in New Rules I'd probably be the other best friend who'll be like "guurl, confront her ass it isnt an excuse just because she's your friend." All in all I see the OC as the kind of person who'll go out of their way to care for someone to the point of disregarding their own feelings, which is unhealthy :( (1)

Anonymous said:(2) but thats what makes her such a relatable character. I really, really like that in your OCs. This is probably the second OC i emotionally relate to, first is Copper Girl. But yeah I'm just distracting myself from assignments lol this series is amazing and just you are amazing Lu!!!! ily!!!!! PS. Jungkook is still agsjshskll he's cocky but with OC he's quite vulnerable. I wonder why? Is it just a front or does he have other intentions?

Anonymous said:alternative ending to new rules: mijoo and mc are over their respective boys, does not bother to get into any messy scenarios like that ever again, love each other and support each other and is forever the friendship that everyone envies anD I HATE THIS SITUATION SO MUCH GODDAMMIT LU!!! UR REALLY TRYING TO TEAR MY HEART APART!!

marchxseptember said:OH MY GOD CHAPTER TWO IS UP. I HAD A FEELING SO I HAD TO CHCK UR ACC AND I WAS RIGHT. BRB GONNA READ

marchxseptember said:AND THE PLOT THICKENS. I JIST FINISHED READING CH. 2 AND I AM FUCKED UP. I HAD A THEORY BEFORE BUT NOW I HAVE LIKE 2 MORE IM CONFUSED. I LOVED IT SOOO MUCH. AND I HATE MIJOO NOW. I CANT WAITT TO SEE WHAT WILL HAPPEN. THIS WAS SO GOOD LU.

omg the amount of response ive gotten for new rules is unbelievable. I dont think ppl were even this into equilibrium. the last time u guys acted like this was during the golden boy trilogy and it really feels so good to have this again.

thank you all for your thoughtful messages and for giving this ridiculous little fic a chance. I love you all

#new rules #keehyung #lu answers

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