#robfic

I’m not actually sure what the heart killers is sorry monarch consider this ask a free space to ramble on a fic idea that’s popped into your head recently but you haven’t done anything about!

sdknkdmksdmmsd ultimately it's all about which modern shakespeare adaptation you get captured by. that being said bc i was messaging you about nothing much to do i guess i have to talk about the most much ado-adjecent element of the heart killers - i don't have time to write it before the next ep josses the fuck out of it, but "heyyyyyy this guy did something bad to someone i love, will you kill him for me? thanks 😘" is not, in canon, something that's going to happen.

however, style would ask. fadel's his dear hitman! he would!

...

"It's in line with our goals," Fadel says to the table.

There's blood under Jane's fingernails, and P'Ann isn't picking up the phone.

(The one where Jane doesn't manage to talk her mother down.)

Bison is chewing.

He adds pork to the rice on the spoon, which means it’s for sure not meant for Kant, but he opens his mouth – really watering – and leans over anyway, because Bison wants him to be his dog today and Kant is willing to give him that, and he needs to see it in Kant’s eyes, now, no matter what Bison does next.

The moment stretches and the ocean waves grow louder as he stares into Bison’s reddened eyes.

In which Bison makes a slightly different call with the pork and the rice - they still end up in the same place, though.

Kant only ever fucks the Captain three times. He's pretty sure he can call it one loss, one win, and one draw - but he can't quite remember which is which.

Walking corpses - running ones, really - force Sand and Ray off their original route towards Bangkok, and destroy most of their supplies.

It's lucky they found this town! But where can a guy get a drink around here?

and you know what else is about the misogyny underpinning the institution of marriage? that's right, the taming of the shrew!

Keen is on their side - unwilling, blackmailed - and Tanon is in their hands. The danger is evenly distributed, then.

Maybe not fairly, though.

Once upon a time, two years ago and counting, a selkie gave up his skin to someone he wanted to make a life with. That someone disappeared, and the sealskin went with him.

Fadel meets with Style, despite the risk, and tries not to put him on like he's made of sealskin.