Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗
well, hilariously, I've not written much fic, so I think I have exactly five published lol, three of those being for Poppy Playtime.
So that being the case, I'll just post one-- I'm definitely most proud of Three Hours Too Soon, a RDR2 fic that I wrote when I first started dabbling in fanfiction. It's an indulgent love letter to art history and asks the burning question: 'What if Arthur talked about French impressionism for three chapters?'
A small snippet I still like (note that the Charles speaking is Charles Courtenay, not Charles Smith):
That question has been asked too many times in his life. Not that it had ever been Trelawny's choice to even BE blank. It's his greatest wish to bond, to feel connected, but when he bonds with Arthur Morgan, it's more pain than he ever bargained for.
There’s a modest mansion nestled in the rough little valley of Willowbrook. It was impossible to see from the road and had remained almost undetected for years. According to Trelawny’s sources the property had enough valuables to make a duchess blush, and he and his compatriots aimed to alleviate these wonderful people of that heavy burden.
‘Wonderful’ being a rather subjective term, his sources were also quick to share rather strongly held opinions of these people.
‘Peculiar’, ‘odd’, ‘strange’ was often used by the polite.
‘Fucking insane,’ from the more honest.
Trelawny despised going in blind, and so he had persuaded Arthur to rather take things a bit more methodically this time around. They were to watch the house for three days to pinpoint routines, determine how many people lived there, and possibly find out who these people actually were.
Arthur and Trelawny set out early that next morning. Charles and Javier would head off later in to small town nearby to see if they could pick up any more information. Trelawny would prefer to be plucking the brains of sheriffs and barmen, but he opted for a few days in the countryside this time. Besides, if his con was to work on these, he really shouldn’t be seen too much in town. Once Arthur and Trelawny had determined the variables, they were to meet Charles and Javier by a crossroads where they’d discus the plan further. Simple, easy as can be.
And of course Trelawny would be acting as distraction and right in the firing range as per usual.
He never really minded it. He quite enjoyed being the center of so much attention; it fed the ego enough for at least a few weeks. As a performer by nature, he really couldn’t be anywhere else but on the stage. No matter the size of it or the type.
The ride was quiet, the horse’s hooves soft against the dew-soaked earth as they cantered over the wet mud. Trelawny in a rare moment enjoyed the silence, taking the time to think of possible distractions and the problems which might occur during the heist.
His appaloosa tossed his head a few times, more frisky than he first thought. So, when they turned the corner to take the main road he egged him on a bit, taking Arthur past with a bright laugh. Arthur, of course, did not take to that kindly and quickly sped up, coming up from the side. Trelawny lay low on Gwydion’s back, feeling the muscle and bone shift and pound beneath him. He heard a sharp whistle just as they reached a hill and like a shot, Arthur and Boadicea shot past them and reached the top a good length ahead of them.
“Ya really thought you could beat Boa?” he asked panting and patting her arched neck.
Trelawny laughed again, “Perhaps on a dull long stretch of road you can beat us, Mr Morgan. But give us a road with sharp turns and all manner of obstacles, and Gwydion will show you how it’s done.”
The little appaloosa tossed his head as if in agreement and Arthur snorted, shaking his head.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Trelawny laughed and they continued onwards.
They reached the small mansion by midafternoon. Surroundings hills and forests made it difficult to see if you didn’t know where to look. It was as dilapidated as he expected. The estate around it had become over grown with weeds, the plants and garden unkempt and unruly. But even without binoculars, he could see a stable full of horses, a man walking down a path to what he assumed was a greenhouse.
There was life, and treasure to be found. Jewels if his sources were good – which they always were - a whole stack of jewels hanging behind a portrait in the main bedroom.
“You sure about this?”
“Have I ever been wrong?”
Arthur huffed, “Wrong? No. Unlucky? Hell, yes.”
“Let’s hope my luck has turned.”
Arthur snorted and turned Boa away from the house, “Let’s go find us a spot.”
They quickly set about scouting the area. They were looking for a spot that was both secluded and free of too much traffic. Some of these areas could be quite busy and they wanted to avoid them as best they could to avoid suspicion. They discussed possible pitfalls of the area, noting homesteads that were too close for comfort or trails hidden between the trees that hinted at possible traffic.
They finally settled on a cramped forested area, obscured from view but with a high ridge on the site which would be perfect for Charles to take out a few men with his bow if need be. But just before starting their vigil, Arthur noted a woodcutter’s camp only around thirty yards from the road. They packed up and moved on.
It would be dusk before Arthur finally settled on a spot: a slight ridge far from roads with a perfect view on the mansion hidden between trees and bush. A long stretch of river hugged the short hill close from the east, cutting in between the house and the hill and a rock face rising up behind them, meant they would not easily be spotted if they kept low. They scouted the area for a good hour but found no settlements, farmsteads, homesteads nor well-hidden woodcutters or trail.
“This should do very nicely,” Trelawny agreed, plopping down on a rock overlooking their target directly.
“You tired of looking, old man?” Arthur’s smile was downright mischievous.
Trelawny took off his hat and wiped at his forehead, “Not all of us can be boorish gorillas with more brawn than brains, Mr Morgan.”
He snorted, “I’ll go get us a rabbit, can you start the campfire?” he paused, then turned back and with a downright mischievous smile said, “Do you even know how?”
Oh that little snip. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Trelawny stood up and walked straight towards him scratching at his chin with an idle hand.
“I rightfully don’t know,” he said, voice taking on a slight sing-song tone. “I haven’t done it in a while, I do so love living the high life, eh, Mr Morgan?”
“You sure do.” He crossed his arms, as if waiting for something. And Trelawny so hated disappointing people.
“Well now,” he raised a hand with a closed fist, and looked straight at Arthur, “Do you think this will work?”
Bright yellow sparks clapped right in Arthur’s face, he took a wild step back and nearly stumbled to the ground in his haste. “Fuck, Trelawny!”
He laughed right from his belly, and Arthur, despite his surprise failed to hide his own grin. “Go get us some dinner, my dear boy! I believe I can figure out a blasted campfire.”
“I think you just might,” he agreed, jumping on his mount, Arthur tipped his hat the man took off into the field.
Shaking his head, Trelawny e went to gather some sticks for the fire. He had only done so years ago while travelling with a Circus. They’d been kind, they taught him magic, and showed to him that he could survive, that he could be more than he ever thought he might be. Mostly, he remembered Bryan…
A love nurtured through wild adventures and constant laughter. A kiss in the dark, an embrace that turned into more, the sharp sting of a bite, and the painful disappointment of a bond unformed.
His hand paused, turning its journey away from a stick to settle instead on his neck. Bryan had, at least not abandoned him as the others had. Over twelve bites and not a single one would take. Not even his dear Deirdre, whom was now married to the owner of a mine up in Saint Denis.
Frederick was his name.
He sighed heavy and deep, and quietly gathered a few more sticks for the fire, pushing away his misery.
Thoughts of bonding brought up thoughts of Arthur and his impending marriage. He wondered what it would be like for the Alpha to be shackled to a Beta. Shackled might be a rough a term, but many Alpha’s felt incomplete in beta marriages.
Was that the reason the lad was so uncertain?
“Josiah!”
Oh dear, I’ve lingered for too long. Grabbing around three more sticks he popped up and hurried back to camp.
“On my way, dear boy!”
Arthur, silhouetted by the dipping sun, spun to him, his expression tight with worry, “Thought something had happened.”
Josiah held back the urge to roll his eyes, “I am fine, Arthur. I’ve been taking care of myself since I turned fifteen.”
“Sure,” he shrugged, “But anything can happen.”
Trelawny glanced up, a sharp reprimand on his tongue, but Arthur’s demeanor made the words curl up and die. His stood; hands on his hips, head bowed a little, and shoulders hunched and so clearly worried.
“True,” he said instead, “But I’m fine,” he touched his arm and Arthur’s smile widened a little, soft with relief.
The evening came alive with the barks and caws of nightlight. Trelawny leaned back against the rock, taking long delicious drags from his cigarette.
“Arthur…” he ventured.
“Mm?” Arthur, hat tipped low was leaned against a tree; hands crossed over his stomach and head bowed.
“Have you ever been bonded?”
The head tilted up, revealing wary eyes.
“You asked me so many questions last night that I thought it only fair to ask you in turn.” He took another long drag and kept his eyes on his companion, examining his reaction. Arthur’s expression softened a little, his lips pursed under the hat then with a heavy sigh.
“No.”
“Truly?” That was surprising, “I’d have thought you’d have at least one sweetheart by now!”
He chuckled and shook his head, “Nah, not yet.”
“Oh? I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it.”
“Especially,” he continued, ignoring his response, “Seeing as you were so adamant to know how to court a lady when you were but eighteen years old.”
The nightlife sounds crept back in. The stark shriek of an owl piercing the night and punctuated the absolute silence from his partner. Arthur sat forward, his face falling into shock.
“You remember that?”
Trelawny laughed, “Of course!” he said, “How could I not? Young Arthur marching up to me with a face carved of stone and asking pertinent, deliberate questions about how to court a lady.” Trelawny laughed, “And after you had your fill, you had nodded and marched off only to ignore me for a whole of three months!”
Arthur buried his face into his hands, “Ahh damn, I thought you’ve have forgotten about it. That was just…” he cleared his throat.
“Endearing?”
“Stupid,” he muttered pulling his face out his hands, “Just beyond stupid.”
Trelawny shook his head, “Not stupid if it was sincere,” he stared at Arthur, “Was it?”
“What?”
“Sincere?”
In true Arthur fashion he rubbed the back of his neck and smiled, “Yeah, I guess. But I never asked them though.”
“Why ever not?”
“Chickened out.”
“A shy Alpha? Now there’s a thought.”
Arthur reached over and punched him lightly in the shoulder, “Shut-up!”
Trelawny laughed.
For the rest of the evening, they sit around the small fire, chatting about anything and everything, Trelawny truly enjoyed Arthur’s company, his smile and laugh, and that wonderful shyness that cropped up from time to time. Endearing really was the best word to describe the man.
The rabbit was delicious, the company even better, and he went to sleep with a lighter heart.
Have you done a Morlawny one yet? I adore this ship.
I had to double check this was Arthur x Trelawny, I am so bad with ship names! XD
This is from the Ship Meme Ask.
Who wakes up first? Arthur. Trelawny loves a lie in and insist that any decent person stays in bed until the last minute possible!
Who is grumpiest in the morning? Arthur, mostly just in comparison to Trelawny's jovial nature.
Who cooks breakfast? Trelawny, he tends to cast withering looks at Arthur's choice of stale crackers, dried jerky and coffee. There better be some eggs and bacon or at least kippers on the menu!
Who serves the other breakfast in bed? Trelawny and it's done with all the flair you can imagine!
Who suggests the skip work and stay home? Trelawny, he says they can make money through easier and more fun means anyway!
Who falls asleep on top of the other? Arthur. He tends to doze off when Trelawny is regaling him with one of his stories!
Who always has to be touching the other? Neither massively, but Trelawny always likes feeling Arthur's arms, patting him on the back, patting him on the butt, etc!
Who stays up until 2 reading? Trelawny, the best things happen during the evening!
Who kisses their partner while they’re sleeping? Arthur, usually with a rumbled laugh and enjoying Trelawny's quieter moment!
Who is most adventurous? In terms of using a gun and being daring, Arthur. But coming up with crazy schemes and fun antics, Trelawny.
Who is most protective? Arthur. He gets a bit worried that Trelawny sometimes gets carried away!
Who cares too much? Arthur.
Who is most competitive? Both have a tendency to be competitive, usually because both believe their idea and way of doing something is the best one!
Who sings in the shower? Trelawny. Oh it's a performance! Trelawny's operatic voice echoes through the house!
Who is more likely to get naughty in inappropriate places? Trelawny, he likes seeing Arthur get flustered.
