#“hey arthur I know you have a serious illness but I need to you to go hunting get supplies and help micah and john and sadie and bill and-”

[arthursfuckinghat]

I know the gang cares about Arthur and they knew his sickness was serious and it's part of the narrative and whatnot, but really would it have killed them to just offer the occasional "is there anything you need Arthur?" or "anything we can do to help?" or even "how are you feeling today?" - I'm sure Arthur would rather be pestered slightly than have his rapid illness get straight up ignored yknow?

[koolkat9]

Hey I know you haven't asked for fics requests but all your fics really help me with my anxiety, so... could you maybe (if you have some time to spare and you want to, of course) write a fic about England helping Canada (or any character you choose) with a panic attack? I really like the way you write and your last fic "my prince" was really special to me ♡

That's so sweet of you to say! You actually caught me at a good time with school winding down. My fanfiction requests aren't technically open, but I could never turn down a prompt with Arthur and Mattie!

Rating: T

Relationship: England + Canada

Word Count: 620

Read on AO3

I Always Come Back

The boy had always been skittish. That was the first thing Francis had warned him about when they were finalizing the treaty. A shy, anxious little thing he was. He didn’t talk for weeks when Arthur first arrived at the little cabin Matthew called home. It was even longer before he started accepting affection from him. 

Arthur still noticed the little things even decades later. The way Matthew’s leg bounced whenever Arthur sat him down for a serious talk regardless if the boy had done something wrong. The avoidant eye contact in the calmest of moments. The sleepless nights before Arthur would return to England that Matthew thought he was keeping hidden.

But that was just how Matthew had always been. And other than some struggles in social situations and the repetitive longing looks out windows or whenever the door opened, Matthew seemed to be thriving. 

Until it all came to a head when Arthur was late returning to Canada. 

He arrived to a backdrop of dark, threatening clouds. Just a regular summer thunderstorm, he had thought. Nothing too concerning as long as he got home before the worst of it hit. It wasn’t until he was met with silence when he entered the house that his stomach started doing flips.

A small scrap of paper lay on the coffee table.

Matthew,

I didn’t want to leave you, and I tried to tell you, but you didn’t answer. I need to get groceries. I made some cookies. A little pick me up. They’re on the   dining room table when you’re ready.

Love,

Uncle Allie

Was Matthew sick? He would have Alastair’s head if Matthew was and he didn’t let him know about this sooner. He stormed up the stairs only pausing to collect himself for Matthew. It was Alastair he wasn’t happy with, not Matthew. And Matthew had the nasty habit of blaming himself for the conflict in the household as it was. 

“Matthew love?” Arthur called, knocking at the door, “I’m home–”

There was a loud thud on the other side. Arthur burst into the room without hesitation. Matthew was crumpled on the floor, shaking violently, choking on his gasps, tears streaming down his face, fingers clawing at the floor like a trapped animal. 

Arthur carefully approached, kneeling beside him. “Matthew… It’s alright poppet. Are you feeling ill? Deep breaths now.”

“I-I-I…I can’t…” Matthew sobbed. “Make it stop…Please.”

“Matthew, I need you to try. Do it with me. In.” Arthur took a deep inhale. He held it until the boy followed suit. It was sharper than he would have liked, but it would do as a first step. “Good. Now out.”

They exhaled together. “Good. Let’s do it again.”

They repeated the exercise over and over until Matthew's breathing returned to a somewhat normal rate. 

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Arthur offered. He helped Matthew up into a sitting position, but the boy just swayed. “Are you dizzy?”

Matthew nodded. “And My…M-My legs feel like jelly.”

“Okay then.” He scooped the boy up into his arms. “How’s this?”

Matthew tensed for a moment. He took a few more deep breaths before letting himself sink into Arthur’s embrace. His tiny hands squeezed at Arthur’s coat tighter than Arthur ever thought possible of him. 

“I got you, lad,” Arthur whispered, “I’ve got you.”

He sat himself and Matthew on the bed, never letting go of the boy once. A long conversation would have to follow about what exactly that was, and the poor lad was probably thirsty after all that crying. But for right now, Arthur knew Matthew just needed to be held, to know that he was there. That he came back. That he would always  come back. 

[aster-riskite]

Hey it's me. I'm sure you already know what I'm going to ask.

GerEng...and for the prompt...I'm currently studying for midterms and burning out so something about studying/working and getting burnt out?

Hello omg 😳 Gladly!

Have a lil... softness. :)

"A Brief Recess"

Feat. The silly little guys i guess B)

It was a boring day. A day so normal that an immortal nation-personification-representative would never remember it under normal circumstances. Though, the assembly was a thing to remember.

That's what Arthur believed anyways. It was so incredibly boring that he began to watch his fellow "delegates" during this day's boring summit, watching their bored faces scrunch in disapproval. Though, when his eyes fell on a certain man, he felt the boredom replace itself with a new feeling. One he tried not to acknowledge.

Ludwig, normally the most alert of anyone, looked entirely disheveled. His eyes were halfway closed throughout the current speaker's remarks, and his pen was clicked lazily throughout the whole thing. Even his hair, normally slicked back, was messy and a bit unkempt. That little ballpoint pen might have been the only reason he was still awake. One had to wonder how he had come to this point, but the answer was obvious: the man was working himself to death.

This was unacceptable. Not because he wasn't being professional, but because the exhaustion was further progressed than it should ever be. It was unacceptable because it made Arthur worried. Too worried.

Ludwig even looked ill. He looked like he could collapse at any moment. The sight was so pitiful that Arthur had to pity him, indulging his caring heart.

He raised his placard, labeled "England," and coughed to get the speaker's attention.

"Motion to hold a brief recess, fifteen minutes."

"Herr Kirkland," The speaker, Roderich, began. "We're an hour out from the end of today's gathering. Can't it wait?"

"What of it? It's not like anyone's listening to you, you've been going on about your finances in so many directions that I can't think straight."

"... Does anyone second this?" The Austrian asked, annoyed.

A few placards were raised, further annoying him.

"Any opposed?" He hissed.

Ludwig was the only one to oppose, at which Arthur shot him a glare. Not of anger, but of disbelief.

"Seeing a majority of seconds, the motion is granted." Roderich scoffed as he announced it as the host of this day's events. "Take your fifteen minutes already." He seemed a bit salty.

At that, Arthur stood and went to Ludwig's side, sitting right next to him.

"What do you want, you wanted time to rest. Go take it..." The German was unusually quiet as he scolded the Englishman. He sounded almost like he was whining, as opposed to a usual demanding tone.

"That wasn't for me." Arthur started, equally quiet for his sake. "It was for you."

"What-?" A brow raised was all Ludwig could muster.

"I'm serious! Why are you so disheveled? You look like you've just crawled out of the fires of the underworld." He had a penchant for exaggerating, but this time, it was true.

"I might as well have, I've been working all week." He rolled his eyes, staring back at Arthur.

The moment they finally made eye contact, Ludwig felt himself melting. Not because he was upset, but because Arthur was. It was as if there was an underlying care in his scolding glare.

"Have you even eaten?" Arthur asked, prompted by the way Ludwig sunk into the table.

"You of all people should know we can survive without-"

"Immortality be damned, you need food! And what about water? Or a bath?"

"Um.." It was at that point that Ludwig finally crumpled a bit, falling more into the desk. "..no."

"Bloody hell- I'll have to do something about that, won't I?"

Ludwig tensed.

"Calm down, I'll take you somewhere for dinner. Tonight. Actually, right after the meeting ends."

"Are you... are you sure?" In spite of everything, Ludwig blushed a bit. This was an odd way to be asked out. Especially considering the situation.

"Positive. For now, though, I'm going to get you a water. Stay here and rest your eyes, alright?"

"Mhm..." He didn't hesitate to lay his head down on the desk. In fact, he could barely resist sleep. And so, as the world darkened around him, he let himself imagine being held in the arms of someone he'd been admiring for far too long. Someone with emerald green eyes he could lose himself entirely in.

He opted to blame his heart for making his head hurt, rather than the lack of hydration.

Arthur left hastily, running to the nearest vending machine he saw and putting in a bill. Once he had obtained the water, he returned to the conference room, only to see that Ludwig had fallen asleep before he could come back.

Poor dear.

Setting the bottle down by the placard, he took his place at the table once again. In spite of the recess' end, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Ludwig, as if hoping to will the man into rest. Gradually, he noticed himself getting a little too hot for the room, his face burning.

"What is wrong with me..?" He asked himself, accidentally out loud.

All eyes were on Arthur Kirkland in that moment. The subject of the room's curiosity went red in the face.

"Bugger off, would you?"

Except, they didn't. Not even when the meeting ended, and Arthur went quietly to Ludwig's side to wake him gently.

A few words were audible to anyone who listened:

"Come on, love. It's time to go."

"But-"

"No buts." Arthur lifted the taller man out of his seat on his shoulder with considerable effort. "Christ, you're heavy-"

"Oh, I can stand-" Ludwig held his own weight, despite wobbling a bit.

"No, it's fine. Feel free to lean on me, actually." Arthur held his hand as they walked outside, taking a moment every now and then to check on the taller.

Ludwig looked a little less exhausted, which was good. He slowly got into a rhythm with his steps, signifying a return to the waking world. Of course, when he almost walked out into traffic, Arthur had to grab him.

Neither minded, though. Bar the scary experience.

"You alright there?"

"Less tired now..." His dull eyes betrayed him, proving his answer to be a lie. "Can we just go back to the hotel? It's on the way."

"Of course, but I'm still buying you food."

"You don't have to, I can-"

"Shush." Arthur continued to lead him until the reached the building of their chosen hotel. It wasn't a difficult journey, after all.

Soon enough, Ludwig was on the couch in his room. He breathed deeply, trying to relax.

"There we go... Is there anything in particular you want?" Arthur put a blanket over him.

"Bread... That's all I could want right now..."

"I understand. I'll be back soon, alright?" Without thinking, Arthur put his hand underneath Ludwig's chin, effectively holding his gaze up.

Both men blushed, silently staring at each other for a solid minute.

"...what did you say again?"

"Just- Go to sleep. I won't be gone long." Arthur tore himself away, headed for the door with a huff.

Ludwig put his own hand where Arthur's was now missing, smiling to himself. "Don't, uh... don't forget the key."

"What do you take me for? As a gentleman, it's my duty to remember such things. And as an ill man, it's your duty to rest."

"I'm not ill-"

"You fit the bill, now lie down already."

With a sad face, Ludwig followed the order, watching the Englishman leave.

Arthur left, still red in the face and struggling to make his heart stop racing. He thought back on his decision to force the assembly to have a recess, reminding himself of one thing: it was just a kind gesture.

Right?

It may not have been something Ludwig would have asked for, but it was something he needed.

Arthur didn't want to admit that he cared, but after his actions today, he may be forced to. It wasn't like he was trying to care, it just happened. "Curses..." was all he could say in response to his heart's foolish insistence upon making him blush for that self-destructive fool.

He didn't realize that he'd been distracted, thinking about Ludwig, until he was back at the doors of the hotel with some groceries in hand. Once the door was unlocked, he was brought back to reality, because reality was far more necessary to think about than his own heart.

Ludwig woke at the sound of the hotel door opening, blinking a bit. "Oh, it's you... Where am I?" He looked confused, but not scared.

Arthur chuckled. "You're in a hotel, and I'm back with bread."

"Oh, good... I'm hungry."

"Good, because that's the whole reason I went out." He smirked and set the bag on the counter. "How does sourdough sound?"

"Good... Don't try to toast it, though." Ludwig tried to stand.

"Don't you dare try to stand, you're supposed to be resting."

"Mm... Wait, but-"

"No sir. Don't you dare." He gave Ludwig a look.

The man was back on the couch in mere seconds.

"Good. Now don't you worry about a thing." Arthur walked back to the room, a few slices of bread on the plate, along with some butter. He sat down next to Ludwig, unintentionally curling up next to him.

"Is there a reason you're...?" The German put an arm around him nonetheless.

"No... But if it gets you to rest, I don't mind it." There were more reasons than that, but excuses were a comfort he tried to enjoy.

"Well, it's okay... I like it..." Ludwig started to drift off again, holding Arthur to his chest.

"I like it too." Arthur muttered. He let himself be held, relaxing as well.

Through the night, the pair cuddled each other. They slept peacefully, not even disturbed by each other's warmth. The soft rise and fall of each chest lulled them both into true rest.

The day had been boring, sure, but the night was gentle enough to remember.

[makahimetenshi]

Two separated ways - Chapter 10 - Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor x Paladin Danse Fallout 4 Fanfic

Oh my god I cant believe Fanfiction is counting the views again after half year.

Can you believe it? I keep writing and uploading this with 0 views and almost 0 possibilities of getting visualized again. I just keep writing, and writing and writing.

Damn I finalized Follow me into the wastelands with the view stopping at half story :C

Perfect connection also suffer from the same, it has only 3 views because it started to count them just now. I mean I can write one of the lemons I left stuck to bump it up again. To see if people gives it a chance and start counting at least some views

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

She take a second to explore her surroundings with her eyes, trying to calm herself and the rhythm of her heart.

Oh she may be delirating.

-Arthur what are you talking about? What changed? –why? Why this feels so rushed? A hint of pain appeared on her chest, something was off, very off.

He didn’t seems secure about it, less happy. Never expected much emotions but at least security! Never tried to oblige him!

-The council of elders is pressuring me to bear children, that’s all –he said with a dead voice, yeah he wasn’t comfortable- and I feel like I own you an apology. You were serious about this since the beginning and talk me with straight words –he was serious, stiff today, hard to reach- I wasn’t sure of what I wanted and I delayed it, loosing your time and opportunities, I should do something else

-Like what? –she ask sitting on a chair next to his desk, Arthur move a chair and also sit in front of her

-Get my shit together –he said looking at his hands open, Nora place a hand on his knee, soft, not wanting to scare him.

-You don’t seem like you want to

-I wasn’t so sure before and now im obliged im nervous, that’s the true –he look at Nora and then laugh low, feeling small- you are not backing up now don’t you?

-You need to consent to this im not doing anything you don’t want

-I do I do, I consent, it just doesn’t feel so good now im obliged

She picked up his hands-if you don’t feel comfortable im not comfortable either, im not obligating you

-I can do this –he said taking a big breath of air- you are in?

-Yes –ah she had such a pretty feminine voice…whiling to do it with him.

But truth is it wasn’t easy.

-Then lets have dinner together tonight alright? I just summoned you to talk right now it would be rude –he was interrupted by the woman jumping out of her chair to sit on his legs, nothing dirty, just sit on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders,  leaving him speechless for a moment until he recompose- for you its just so easy doesn’t?

-What do you mean? –said Nora with a small smile- im just giving you some extra help –the woman left a soft kiss in his forehead, making the man blush- you know what? I think we should make dinner together, it will relax you, put your head in some other place

For her it was a wish, for him a duty, it was only natural that he was nervous.

-Alright which ingredients do you want me to get?

-I was thinking in a Squirrel stew, its going to be fun to work together although im not an expert in wasteland recipes.

-Got it, ill see you in my quarters at 9…I promise  I will be less nervous –she gets up from his legs with a smile, her heart was pounding hard on her chest.

Finally, she got it.

She has him.

-Alright, ill use the noon to have my stuff done by night –she was about to cross the door when she hear his voice a last time.

-And im sorry…again.

Nora  appeared in his door wearing some Checkered shirt and slacks. Hu. Weird, he would expect something else since tonight was an special occasion but okay he can work with what he had after all she was super hot naked anyway. He had some T-shirt and slacks…was his imagination working or both were dressed pretty simple?

-I wouldn’t choose white for cooking –said the woman getting inside his quarters, closing the door and leaning on top, looking at him.

Gosh wasn’t her gaze really intense today? Arthur suddenly felt overwhelmed. Oh gosh tonight he had to deliver.

-Speaking of witch I already wash and disinfect the vegetables

-Cool, ill cut the squirrel bits then, I suppose you don’t wanna do the dirty work yourself –when she said that the man roll his eyes and hit her hip with his, making both laugh as he picked the knifes and give one to her-Ill put some music, years passes since I arrived to this damn place and there’s still almost no radios

-Its true, there was more radios in the commonwealth –he said hearing in the background how she played with the radio, trying to pick some station until some old jazz was playing. He started cutting the vegetables in little cubes, Nora came from behind and leave a bowl at his side while she make her place in the uncomfortable table both were working on.

At least the squirrel was peeled, Arthur was surprised with her ability to take the bones and guts out,  throwing it to the trash.

-When you are done with the cubes boil 750ml of water and throw the vegetables –she said starting to cut the  meat in cubes, alright- ill take care of the rest

In no time he had a prewar wife cooking for him, he sighted at the view of the woman preparing both dinner, and It was right, just spending this moment together working in something so simple and mundane really relaxed him…something so little like preparing dinner in a chill environment was a change he didn’t know he needed…Peace was always something so weird to see in the wastelands…

When the soup started to boil Nora open one of the man bottles he had scattered all over his quarters

-You sure you don’t want to start with some aqua pura? –said  Arthur picking a pair of glasses.

-Im fine with this Chateau Montrose, everybody in my family despised it-why? He liked that wine-but I never truly understood the problem

-You have a big family-he asked while she poured the liquid into the glasses-do you know if any of them is alive at least in a vault? –or get turned into a ghoul over the years to survive- of course your situation was pretty abnormal but you cant give anything for granted in the wastelands –maybe one of them also fall into a horrendous vault-tec experiment

-I lost all interest when I realized I wouldn’t get nor Nate or Shaun back to me, that was the family I really wanted by my side…don’t get me wrong im sure I can track them down, people donsnt just vanish in the air, they always leave traces but I honestly don’t have the interest to look after them –first glass, drinked it all down her throat- besides 7 brothers and mother and father, it’s a big job to cover, we were scattered all around the country when the bombs dropped, business trips, campaign, phs in universitys, investigations, is pretty strange because my father started having kids with my mother at his 20s, but then I was the only one who give him a grandson at 35, none of my brothers actually had a family

-Nor wives?

-No, several  women but no childs, I understand if they don’t wanna get married because of their position and power but It always amazed me how they avoided so much to have children…me and Nate also did a good job, we purposely tried for Shaun

There was a true, they were a few years apart but besides that Nora had a completely different experience in life, much more than him, but also completely different than any wastelander.

-It amazes me to hear you say how you all avoided pregnancy’s…that’s not possible here –of course at saying that Nora looked at him in silence- except for pulling out of course –now he drinked on his wine, ashamed-so your father was in his 60?

-80, he was being pressured to abandon his politic career actually due to his age, although he was a healthy man without problems

-What about your mother?

-Why the sludden interest on my family dead almost 250 years ago?

-Well I need some background to tell historys to our childrens –the woman blushed and then drink more on his wine, making him smile- you pretty much read all mine

-Im sure most soldiers read all your family drama

The woman get up to stir spoon in the soup saucepan, Arthur saw her while drinking, refilling both glasses, admiring her figure. He was really having a domestic scene doesn’t? A wife making dinner.

But he will never make her his wife, not if she wasn’t willing to ever love him because her thoughts were filled with another man. Maybe the mother of his children but never a wife, and he must remember that, he should always be aware to not fall in love and not crave for her unless things change. No matter how perfect their connection is or how good their chemistry envolves. The things Danse said about her disturbed him a lot, she didn’t seem that dangerous around, never exposed that part of herself around him yet.

Yet was an important word, he had to be alert.

-It smells good –he said looking at her.

-As good as wastelands food can smell –she replied taking out the pots to start serving their soup- meat looks nice and cooked, lets eat!

He felt like experimenting joy for the first time in his life after tasting that stew. Cooked  with tenderness and dedication by a prewar wife…widow…prewar widow…and despite being so simple and small, it was a nice time they were spending together. It certainly put his mind  a bit at pause about the ideas of the unknow future and the  obligation on whether or not to have to make an heir. But just for that brief moments.

But it wasn’t as easy.

Shut down his mind from all the uncertainty, doubts and fears wasn’t easy, it was something it needed time and right now he wasn’t in the right mood, specially if he wasn’t sure about knowing her.

So the delivery wasn’t perfect.

-You want to be on top or…-she asked moving off sighting, clearly pissed, which didn’t help the man to be less nervous or upset.

-Nono i…-nooooo now it wasn’t the time to have problems with erections!

-Its okay maybe being in control may help you –said Nora trying to be condensandent but it didn’t help much, he can’t maintain it hard to the end.

Things happened between them but he was sure he liked her, she was hot and amazing in bed, it isn’t like he is not turned on!

-No, i…-he tried so hard to step in and say fluent words, to not interrupt himself- I don’t feel so good right now –it was the true, the pure true.

He had a lot of anxiety, a terrible hole in the chest  and a brain that wont shut up. No, he wasn’t ready to have children, he had to but he wasn’t ready himself.

-Alright –she simply said, sitting at his side and placing a hand on his cheek- do you want me out? Need a time for yourself?

Arthur can see she was pissed and annoyed of course, being obliged to stop wasn’t funny, he should take care of her before but the thing is he wasn’t in the right mood to have sex right now, non  to perform it or receive it apparently, he felt like non sex vibes from the moment she crossed the door and apparently that didn’t change for him

-No…-he mumble feeling pathetic, looking at his soft sad cock between his legs- you can stay

-Okay –she answer taking his hand, not looking at him, just staying at his side- should I dress?

-Not necessary, can we sleep together? –he mumble and she nodded with her head, laying on the  bead moving the sheets over them.

This was bad, he never had this problem before, but maybe not say to her that it was the first time it happened…

His mind was screaming at him that he didn’t want to have children, she wasn’t the problem, he wasn’t ready.

-Don’t worry –she said with a clearly fake smile, she had pitty for him, he can see it- don’t push yourself.

Women were not easy on men when they don’t deliver, and Nora wasn’t any different, she can talk nice nonsense all what she wanted but her expressions and moods were crystal clear, same with her body language, she wasn’t satisfied nor happy with this situation after all a man who cant hold an erection was the last thing she needed right now, and Arthur can’t really sustain this situation much, his time was running out to make the next Maxson generation.

Why now?

Despite her own frustration and how tense her body was, she places her chest on his face and hug him to sleep together, spreading her body heat.

She was smart, and knows that placing more stress over him wouldn’t help.

The next morning he wake up to piss early, and found between his legs a huge erection. Nora had him enclosed in her arms while sleeping deeply, relaxed like nothing was going to hurt her inside that room. The man silently moved out from the bed to the bathroom and after fighting to pee straight into the toilet and not drip outside he washed, figuring out that this boner will not go down with just cold water.

He sighted, maybe it was a good moment to try now.

When laying down his eyes fixiated on her, the way she breathes, the shape of her shoulders, her curves, the scars all along her skin, her lovely small breasts, the different tones of her skin…she was a well cooked cake, heated in the wastelands sun…a hand place on her hip while he stand on his elbow over the matress to start leaving kisses all over her face trying to wake her up, just little wet smooches to not disturb her sleep so suddenly.

-Sorry to wake you up –he mumble with a raspy voice, newly woken up voice.

-What time is it? -she whispered with difficulty, slowly opening her eyes, sitting up, but before anything, the hand that was on her hip grabbed one of her and put it on top of his member so that she could feel it and…decide-oh

-We can go back to sleep -she shook her head and even with a lot of sleep and her lids heavy she approached him to leave a kiss on his lips, a simple one, simply resting her lips on his, but firm and determined, pushing her head slightly against him, Arthur responded by moving his lips softly and there she rose up on her elbows.

-Im okay –she whisper against his lips and suddenly for her surprise this time the man took the iniciative and sat on top of her legs, leaning down to kiss deeply, she moaned soft on the insides  of their mouths but quickly responded with her hands all over his back.

Arthurs hands started to travel all around her curves, moving, the palm of his hands closing and pitching all her warm flesh while slowly to not overwhelm her moved his lips more rough, trying to intensify the kiss to devour her but not being too greedy yet since he just wake her up, slowly, build that tension slowly. Catching her thighs and ribs making her jump in surprise at the rough touch, sniffing against his nose with her hot breath.

Nora stand as much she was able to match heights, also corresponding to the increasing passion, biting on his lower lip and sucking on his tongue by moments letting his tongue invade her mouth to map it, tasting every corner despite the morning breath, she felt welt and soft in her cavity. Neck and shoulders relaxed, legs soften and fingers slide carefully over the skin of his back down his sides making him sight at the sweet sensation.

Slowly both  started to devour the others mouth,  leaning their heads and pushing against the other like it was a fight for dominance, he liked her resistance, knew that she did it to give more and satisfy him, loved how much she gives in that area.

One of her hands moved up to hold his neck and secure the kiss, not letting him move away from her lips like it was a command he was very willing to follow, the other hand moved down to the front, caressing the hairs of his happy trail with the tips of her fingers moving to his crotch, handling finally his cock making him jump in surprise and groan of pleasure.

-You are fine? –the real question was if she was more awake, to not pressure or make her think they were in a rush but now she was holding him he was feeling an urge.

-Im ready –she mumbles in the middle of the kiss starting to jack him off, Arthur moaned in her mouth and move a hand up to grope a boob, now making her moan, exchanging, specially when the pads of his fingers pitched her nipple playing with the tip- please make me a mommy.

That phrase stop him in his place for a second, but quickly recompose and push her down on the bed, opening her knees to get between her long  slim legs holding on his cock.

That morning he finally cum inside

[ijustwant2write]

The Last Five Years-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @hp-wizardingtrash-1​)

(I combined two requests which were very similar)

Both Requested by anonymous: ‘Hey! Can you do a Fred Weasley imagine where him and the reader dated in their last year but Fred broke up with her cause he was leaving and he didn’t want to hurt her. But the reader was pregnant so she leaves right after. So no one knows what happened to her. After the war maybe like 5 years later (Fred lives), something happens maybe the kid needs blood from both parents because he’s sick and they need that for surgery, so the reader goes to Fred begging for blood and Fred learns the truth.’

‘Hey! Can I request a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader was pregnant (back when they in school) but Fred dumps her when he’s leaving to start the shop. (But he still loves her) and the reader has twins, a boy and a girl, who are just like him and George. After the war (Fred lives) something happens where he finds out, (up to you). And both Fred and the reader still love each other. Happy cute family ending.‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, Molly Weasley x Reader (platonic), Arthur Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/S/N)=Your son’s name

(Y/D/N)=Your daughter’s name

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, talk about abortions, abandonment, single parenting, separated families, mention of blood, sickness, child sickness, mention of hospitals/blood, fluff

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Leaning against a stone pillar, I looked out at the view of the lake and the grounds, crossing my arms across my chest to make myself feel warmer. I resisted touching my stomach, still terrified at the thought of life growing in there. I was only seventeen, I hadn't even finished my studying at Hogwarts and this was happening. This wasn't something Fred and I could joke about, or laugh at to make the situation a little better, this was serious, and I couldn't tell how my boyfriend would react.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, my head whipped round to look, but no one was there. As my head turned to the other side, Fred towered over me, chuckling to himself. But I couldn't bring myself to even smile, instead rolling my eyes at him.

"Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry I'm late, George and I were speaking, I've got so much to tell you!" he rambled, not taking offence to my action.

"Something...Fred, I...I don't know what to do!" I suddenly started sobbing, which panicked my boyfriend.

He instantly put his arms around me, holding me tight into his chest. At first he let me cry, probably thinking I was stressed about exams (I definitely was on top of everything) before pushing me away and bending down to look me in the eyes.

"Hey, let's sit down yeah?" he guided me to a bench close by, keeping his arms around me as we took a seat.

I couldn't stop my tears, trying to keep quiet in case anyone heard, or before any professors could intervene.

"Here, let me tell you what George and I have been discussing. It'll take your mind off this for a bit, yeah? OK, so, you know how George and I have always said about owning a joke shop, well, something has come through. And after all this stuff going on with Umbridge, we've decided to leave-"

"I'm pregnant." I blurted out.

Unsurprisingly, his eyes widened, mouth dropping open, I could feel his body tense up. Staring up at him, I silently pleaded for him to say something.

"Fred?" I mumbled.

"(Y/N), please say you're joking."

"This isn't a fucking prank Fred!" I exclaimed, shoving him away from me."I’m serious!"

"W-what...I don't know what to say."

I stood up, not able to sit still."Fred, we're having a baby. What are we going to do? We've still got exams, and then graduation, not to mention having to tell our parents and-"

"(Y/N), I'm not doing my exams."

"What do you mean you're not doing your exams? Fred, it's literally coming to the end of our studies, why would you throw that away?"

"Because I have a plan, I was just about to tell you! George and I are leaving early and we're getting a shop in Diagon Alley."

"Are you crazy?! Fred, what if it doesn't work? You won't have any exam results, you won't be able to apply for jobs-"

"Well thanks for believing in me, that's great to hear from your girlfriend!" he leapt up from the bench.

"You know I support you through everything, but I'm thinking about our futures! If we have a baby on the way, we need to be able to support it."

"We haven't planned for this! This...this wasn't what I envisioned for us, not now!"

"Oh, and you think I did?"

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"What am I going to do? No, it should be what are we going to do? How dare you?! What, are you just going to leave me as well as Hogwarts?"

When he didn't reply, I scoffed, but it wasn't in an angry way, it was more upsetting than that. My mind went into overdrive, not recognising the man in front of me. I had expected shock, of course I had, but what I wasn't expecting was this rudeness, the bluntness coming from him.

"Fred," I was quieter now,"what are you saying right now?"

"You want to keep it?"

"I...I don't really know yet."

"So we're arguing about something that might not even effect us!"

"Even if we got rid of it, it wouldn't be a matter of 'let's just forget about it'. Do you know how hard that is for a woman? And the father?"

He hastily grabbed my hands."Then leave with me! We've always talked about living together after we finish school. What difference does this make?"

"I want to do my exams Fred! Even if I didn't, my parents wouldn't allow it. And that was easier to plan for back then. It would just be us. We could have a small space anywhere. But with a baby? We need somewhere safe, somewhere that is a good place to raise them, and we also need to feed three people, buy nappies, clothes constantly because babies grow a lot-"

"I can't do it." he interrupted.

"Fred, please, I love you. I know we can figure something out-"

"No, I...we're too young, this isn't fair." his eyes were distant, as if he was staring straight through me. 

"What you're saying isn't fair! I couldn't have done this by myself."

"I just...I don't know what else to say I..." 

He said no more as he rushed away from me, and I was too stunned to go after him. As he picked up the pace, he passed Mcgonagall, who glanced between us before she approached me. "I think we should have a word Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't we Miss (Y/L/N)?"

                                           *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mummy!" (Y/S/N) yelled out, just like he did every day.

I sighed as I brought out the kids breakfast, setting it in front of them."Don't worry, you're not going to starve. Here you go darling."

"Thanks." he mumbled, picking up his spoon and eating. He was always more awake in the morning compared to his sister.

"Thank you mummy." (Y/D/N) quietly said, also digging into her food.

I smiled at them both, quietly laughing at their wild hair from their sleep, before grabbing myself a bowl of cereal. Quickly returning, I sat down with them, my smile faltering as I looked at (Y/D/N) pale face.

"Do we have to go hospital today?" she asked. She hated how many times we had to go, the appointments were becoming more and more regular.

I nodded."Yes darling. But (Y/S/N) is coming today, because he's not at school for a while! You can play together whilst we wait for the doctor."

"I'll play with you (Y/D/N)." her brother kindly said.

"I don't want to go." (Y/D/N) frowned.

"We have to. Remember, they're helping you get better." 

"I want to play at home." 

"I promise it won't be very long. We've got our trip soon, haven't we?" 

"How many more days mummy?" (Y/S/N) excitedly asked. 

"Only two! We need to start packing your bags." 

(Y/S/N) started to chat away about this trip he knew nothing about, listing every single item he was bringing, whereas his sister was silent as she finished her breakfast. She had been a sickly child compared to her healthy twin brother. The hospital had diagnosed her, and explained that I needed to ask family members to have blood tests, to see if they matched with her and could help in any way. My side of the family had no luck, and after much deliberation with myself (and my parents), I knew I had to see Fred again, I had to face him. But with my little girl so ill, so weak, I would face down Voldemort himself to make her well again. Though I had a feeling seeing 'He who shall not be named' would be a lot easier than seeing the father of my children. 

The day of the trip came, and the kids were excited. We had packed their tiny suitcases, and I an overnight bag, before setting off. All day I had kept a smile on my face, not wanting to worry them. They thought it was a mini holiday, something we had never been on due to money. For five years it had been the three of us, with me at work, then at school and their grandparents when I had a late shift before cuddling up in bed with a good story together. It was a simple life, but they brought me so much joy, I couldn't express how happy they made me if I tried, it was infinite. And now I was taking them to meet their father I had avoided talking about, I was worried what it would do to our bond. 

"That's a strange house mummy." (Y/D/N) said as we approached the Burrow, a place I had spent much time in. 

"This is where your other grandparents live. It's very nice here. And they are very nice people." I said as we continued walking. 

"We say, we say please and thank you, don't we mummy?" (Y/S/N) added.

I giggled."Yes, we do."

We were now stood outside of the house, right in front of the door, but I still clutched onto my children's hands. They were confused as to why I wasn't knocking, why I was standing still. It was as if I was frozen. So when (Y/S/N) boldly stepped forward and knocked, I was pulled out of my trance. Before I could say anything to him, I heard movement coming from the other side of the door, and pulled him back towards me. There was no turning back now. Molly opened the door, her jaw almost hitting the floor as she set her eyes on me, then the kids, which is when she gasped. I bravely smiled, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears.

"H-Hi Molly. I'm...I'm really S-sorry just showing up out of the b-blue-" I couldn't stop stuttering over my words,"but...but I thought it was time you met your grandchildren."

Molly had immediately ushered me inside, throwing her arms around me as soon as the door closed. Holding my face in her hands, she studied my face, seeing how much I had changed over the years.

"I can't believe you're here!" she quietly exclaimed."It's been so many years."

"I'm sorry Molly. I didn't mean to disappear." I began welling up, trying to hold it back in front of the kids.

"Dear, don't apologise for a thing. We can talk about this later." she comforted me, stepping back to look at her grandchildren."So, these are your children?"

"My twins, ironically. (Y/D/N), (Y/S/N), this is your nan, Molly."

They stayed close to me, only (Y/S/N) letting go of my hand. I gently encouraged them forwards, pushing them towards Molly. She used the table beside her to help her kneel down, slowly extending her arms out to them. I felt overwhelmed as (Y/S/N) cautiously stepped towards her, hugging Molly before leaving her embrace again. It was one of those shy hugs kids gave, when they knew it was the right/polite thing to do but weren't sure of it themselves.

Molly was the only one in the house, and we let the kids play as we sat and caught up on what happened in the last five years. For me, there was a slight awkward tension in the air, but Molly's warm smile made me forget about that. I'm sure she had tons of questions as to why I never brought the twins round, and why I only showed up when I wanted something.

"Why don't you stay the night? I can hardly get Fred to stop by now. But there's plenty of room." Molly offered.

"Oh, only if that's alright with you! That would be very helpful. Um, do you think he’ll even want to see me?”

She kindly smiled as she slowly nodded.“My son is still just as infatuated with you as he was all those years ago.”

I refrained from snapping about how he never sent a letter, checked to even see if I was alright, if I had kept the pregnancy going. But then again, I had also cut off any contact with him, so it wasn’t entirely fair for me to say that. However, I was the one carrying twins by herself, raising them as a single mother (my family helped as much as they could, though no one could replace a father figure). And although the catch up with Molly had been good, it had lifted this tension from my body, I hated how my stomach twisted at the thought of Fred showing up here. Hi reaction was completely unknown. He could have moved on, maybe Molly was just wanting us together again; what if he was seeing someone, someone without children, someone who was free to do what they wanted and more fun than I was? He could easily turn a blind eye to it all. Or perhaps he would want to be a part of the family now. But why should I let him in after all these years? He missed five years of their life, and I understood that he would have no clue where we were, though there were ways of tracking us down. My mind was conflicted, I was here to make (Y/D/N) better, that was the top priority.

When Arthur returned that evening, he wore the same expression Molly had had when I first arrived. Although he was happy to see me, he wasn’t shouting or bouncing off the walls, he was more concerned; asking me all these questions, wanting me to go in depth about (Y/D/N)’s illness and how they could help. Both of them agreed they would help, and that once I spoke with Fred, they would ask the rest of the family also. 

Molly had laid out a full breakfast the next morning, though I really didn’t feel like eating. The kids got stuck right in, eating more food than I think I’ve ever seen them eat. They weren’t used to treats like this, we weren’t extremely poor, but even a fancy cereal was out of the question for us. I shared a smile with Molly and Arthur, thanking them for their hospitality. (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N) were more comfortable with them, sometimes talking to them, or showing their toys. As we sat at the table, our plate and bowls now empty, Arthur gestured for me to follow him to the other room.

“(Y/N), I just wanted to make sure you were ready for today. I’ve had this same talk with Fred.” he quietly said.

I looked down at my feet, my arms crossing over my chest.“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready to see him again.”

“You have been very brave coming here. I can see how difficult this is for you. But I understand wanting to look after your children, it’s a feeling you only ever experience once you have them. Molly and I spoke last night. Even if, for some bizarre reason, Fred doesn’t...he doesn’t....”

“He doesn’t want to be around us.”

Arthur sighed sadly.“We will still help you. And you always have a place here, you always have family here.”

I hugged him, feeling like a child again in his arms. I felt protected, like nothing could hurt me whilst I was here. When we returned to the others, Molly was already clearing everything away, (Y/D/N) and (Y/S/N) talking each others ears off. Molly denied my help as I offered, knowing that I was very nervous and wanted the kids ready, as well as myself before their father arrived. I was happy that they were in a good mood, talking amongst themselves rather than asking lots of questions. But I still needed to sit them down, tell them who they were meeting today.

“You two look amazing!” I beamed, sitting them down on the edge of the bed, me kneeling in front of them.

“Mummy looks...mummy looks like a princess.” (Y/D/N) giggled as she clutched onto her own princess doll.

“Thank you. Do you guys remember why I said we were coming here?” 

“To meet daddy.”

“Yeah.” my voice turned shaky.“So, we need to be really good today OK? You guys were so good yesterday, and I need you to be like that again please. Me and daddy might need to talk for a while, so you two can play together, or with granddad Arthur and grandmother Molly.”

“Where is daddy?” (Y/S/N) asked.

“He’s on his way.”

“No, not, not now. Where has he been? Because all my friends have daddies, they have mummies and daddies, but I don’t.”

“He’s...he’s been....” 

How was I supposed to explain this to a five year old?

“It’s a bit confusing darling. But that doesn’t matter because he’s here now.”

(Y/D/N) looked away from her doll.“Will he come home with us?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t. We’ve been fine, just the three of us, haven’t we?”

They nodded, and I pulled them in to hug me. Their little arms wound around me where they could, and I could feel their tiny hands grasping at me. Squeezing them tighter, I laughed when they did, exclaiming they I was holding them too hard. Pulling away, I kissed them both on the cheeks, holding their hands to take them downstairs. However, my grin fell as I heard the door open, Fred’s voice ringing out. My body stiffened, heart starting to race quickly. Instinctively, I pulled the twins closer to me, not sure if I should go to Fred or wait here.

“It’s alright dear, I’m here.” Molly calmly said beside me.

All I could do was smile. My throat turned dry, breathing shaky and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I heard Arthur speaking to his son, but it was muffled, until footsteps started approaching. And suddenly, there he was, the boy I feel deeply in love with was now a man, standing even taller than before. Although we both looked different, it was as if we were teenagers again.

“(Y/N)...I...I can’t believe...” he couldn’t form a sentence, his gaze now on the twins.

I knelt between my children, hugging them close to me.“This is (Y/S/N), and (Y/D/N). They’re my world. And...your children too.”

The kids curled into me, noticing the tension in the room. They didn’t know this big man, and they could sense that I was on edge. I put on a brave face for them. I was their mother, their protector, I would always ensure that they felt comfortable, safe, happy and loved. 

“M-my children?” he was still looking at them.

“I think you two should talk before...well before a proper meeting, yeah?” Arthur gently suggested.

“Alright.” I agreed.“You two go upstairs and play, you can come down in a bit, OK?”

“Come on you two, let’s go see what toys I’ve got for you. You can show me yours.” Molly said happily, wanting to make the kids relaxed.

They hesitantly went, but I heard them starting to talk about what toys they had and wanted as they climbed the stairs, Molly feigning surprise and interest. 

“I’ll just be in the garden, should you need me.” Arthur said before leaving.

And then there we were. Just us two again. I hadn’t seen him in five years, not since that week of our argument. Multiple emotions rushed through me; I could be angry, upset, frustrated, desperate, loving, relieved...all were pushing their way to the front of my mind, wanting to have their chance to speak.

“Five years.” Fred mumbled.

“Five years.” I repeated.

“I...I can’t speak. I can’t, I can’t think right now. I had so much I wanted to say.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Their names...I remember us talking about them.”

“Yeah. I always liked them.”

“Are they...well, do they know...”

“They know you’re their father. I've always avoided this kind of topic as much as I could with them. They've obviously asked in the past, but I guess since they were so used to it just being me, it was normal for them."

"How have you been?"

"Pretty good, for what it's worth. I was able to get on my feet, with the help of family, I gave birth to them with no complications, all by myself until the last minute. Mum had burst into the room, her face bright red as she rushed to my side. It was scary. And from there I managed to get us a small house, just the necessary rooms, and I try and treat them as much as I can, if the budget will allow it."

"Why didn't you contact me sooner?"

"Why didn't you contact me?" I snapped back."You had the means to do so as well. You probably had more time than I had to even think about contacting me!"

He slightly raised his hands, trying to calm me down."OK, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

“No, I'm sorry." I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands."I'm just feeling a lot of mixed things right now."

I heard him shuffle around before the chair next to mine scraped along the floor, and he sat in it."I know. So am I."

"I came here because (Y/D/N) is sick. An option we have is a transfusion of blood but we have to find the right person. They said the most likely match would come from a family member. All of mine have tried, even distant relatives. That's why I came in the first place."

His face had fallen into a sad expression, eyebrows furrowed."Wait, what does that mean?"

"She won't die, nothing like that. Even with the right treatment, she would have to go to hospital throughout her life. (Y/D/N) will be a sickly person throughout her life."

“Of course I’ll help. I know we all will.”

I smiled through my tears.“Thank you Fred. That means everything to me.”

“But...” he looked down at the table, slowly sliding his hand towards mine. He boldly placed it on top of mine,“I want to look after you too.”

“Fred-”

“No, please listen. There has not been a day where I didn’t regret what I said to you the last time we saw each other. I...I thought about you everyday, but I was too selfish, I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. My love for you, it was...it is enormous. I think as a teen, I knew I was in love, I just didn’t realise how painful it would be when I lost you. And it was all my fault.”

“We’re both to blame. Throughout my pregnancy, I tried to hate you. I convinced myself I did, though deep, deep down in my heart, the love was still there. I told myself I could do this without you, and some days it really felt like that. Others, it would have been nice to have someone else around. And not just to help with the kids. To feel...like a normal family. To have someone look after me at the end of a long day.”

“I can’t believe no one else snatched you up.” he smiled.“You’ve become more beautiful over the years, I didn’t think that was possible.”

I blushed, rolling my eyes at his compliment.“Surprisingly, no one wants a woman with two kids, especially young kids.”

“Can’t say I’m too angry about that.”

“What are we doing Fred? It can’t go back to how it used to be. Not...not straight away.”

“You think you could forgive me?”

“And me?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I kept you from your children! I could have done this years ago. They...they could have had their father in their lives, we knew how to get to each other.” I used my free hand to cover my eyes as I began crying.

“Hey,” Fred’s other arm wrapped around my shoulders,“you’re here now with me. I will apologise everyday if it means you can look me in the eyes and feel happiness. You deserve that much. And as for (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N), I would love to get to know them. We can see where it goes, and further down the line...well, we can take baby steps.”

I sniffled.“You really want to do that?”

He smiled and nodded.“I’m going to be here for you all from now on. They’re my kids, and you’re the mother of my children. I’m going to make up for lost time.”

He tenderly embraced me, and how I had missed this feeling with him. I reacted, holding onto him as I continued to silently cry. He rocked us back and forth, but I could tell he was crying when I felt something drip onto my neck. This didn’t mean all was forgiven, it would take a while to mend everything between us, and for the kids to get used to their father again (and vice versa). Although I knew this would be a journey, I had some faith in it, and I prayed and hoped that someone from the Weasley side could help with (Y/D/N).

We were going to work through this. From what Fred had said, he was desperately wanting to reconnect. Perhaps we could be a family, and the last five years would be nothing compared to the rest of our lives.

[sweetwriter]

WHAT IF THE SHELBY BROTHERS TIME TRAVELED

Ok, here me out. I had this idea......but then I stopped because it is so easy for me to write them out of character 😫. But like I low key think it’d be cool asf for them to be in the 21st century. 

Here’s some of my idea I had a couple of months ago 

Word count: 1.1K 

(My style of writing is a bit....all over the place and I change POV constantly. Ill make an effort to list which POV, but I forget often😅)

You know, I can never catch a break. I mean, what in the literal hell😀 are the Shelbys doing 100 years later...shouldn't they be, you know, dust, worm food, 6 feet under?

They're in a whole new world. The 100 years between they're lives and mine are two different...I don't even know! Things they've never seen before are hitting them in the face. Literally, John hit the light pole (he was turned around). I can't really take them anywhere, they didn't know how to act in 1920 let alone in my time, where everything is watched, played back, and recorded.

So, I guess they get to meet my little sister 😬.

"Ok, we're here." It's a relief a few more blocks and they would've been hit by a car or something. "What is 'here'?" Arthur a little bamboozled by everything. "My home. This is where I live during my time period." Jeez, I sound like I'm in one of those sci if movies Penelope binges every Saturday night🙄.

"How did this happen, and when can we get back?" Tommy interrogated. As if I know. I was going to move on and pretend that feelings weren't there but nope, I have to face those eyes for Lord knows how long until we figure out whats going on. Turning back to the door, "How the hell am I suppose to know. I didn't do this, especially on purpose." Amelia snapped.  Amelia had no idea how she got to 1919 and now she has one more thing she doesn't understand, how they came back WITH her.

"Such a big house for only you,eh" John added in. The men looked around a completely different enviorment than what they've seen. Street lights, women wearing pants and shorts, and cars.

" No, I have my sister here." She's turns around to look at them, "I think she might like you." She said choosing her words WISELY.

"Who wouldn't" giving a cocky side smirk chewing on his toothpick

"Don't get to cocky John Shelby, I said might.'

"Ok, for being some of the most feared gangsters, you guys don't usually like orders being taken, but I need you guys to stay silent until I give a signal."

"Wh-" Arthur tries to ask

"No questions."

They reached the door only to hear an anime theme song and the smell of bacon.

"Yep, thats my sister alright."

"PENELOPE!" She shouted.

"FINALLY! Where were you. I thought you got kidnap or some shit." She comes down the stairs with her coiled hair is a high bun and edges done. With a hunter x hunter graphic t and grey sweats.

Penelope looks to the sides of her sister to see very GORGEOUS men wearing trench coats

Penelopes brain stops working🧠

"Let me-" Penelope cut her off.

"Please do. I'd like to know why my sister disappeared for almost 2 months and comes back with 3 6ft tall men, standing at our door. LIke what the hell?!" It's a fact that Penelopes frustrated stare and folded arms showed she was highly upset. Her sister, all the family she pretty much has left disappeared without a trace, and she had to keep going on with her days without her. It was a hard transformation. It wasn't the first time Amelia disappeared though, it's been a while.

Amelia explained (almost) everything  to Penelope. By her sister believing in sci-fi crap, she whole heartedly trusts her sister.

I wish she would grow up, she'll believe that they're aliens if I told her.

Penelope: hey what can I say, I'm unrealistically optimistic. 👁👄👁

"What are your names?" Penelope asked elongating her neck to see past her sister.  She watched their eyes. She can tell half way across the kitchen they've seen some horrid things. The eyes will never lie to you. As she she followed their eyes, they landed on her sister. Who nodded her head.

"She told you to stay quiet, didn't she?" My sister learns quickly, Amelia once brought home this guy who never stopped talking about his dog (👀 he should've never come home with her, their not that cute, let me just be honest). And.....

*flashback*

"My dog, Barkley-" I snorted and looked at Amelia with a 'are you low key being serious right now' look. Apparently he didn't notice and kept talking,

"He slobbers all over the place. He messed up my shorts and Birkenstock's I was going to wear on my date tonight" 🧍🏾‍♀️He was- they went to a fancy pants restaurant and he was going to wear- good job Barkley.

"John, jake,paul-"

"Tanner" He said. Oh whoops

"Janitor, I'm going to need you to leave. Almost publically humiliating my sister who would've publically humiliated me by you walking into a dress up date in shorts and Birkenstocks in late Autumn. Wish Barkley my best regards and hopes they live an amazing life" Penelope shoved Tanner out of the door and looked at Amelia disappointingly.

"I can't believe you were going to waste both of our times and almost made me burn my pizza."

*end of the flashback  

They stayed silent.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"So, they're from 1917, in 2019?"

"Yes." Remind me to ask Amelia why she brought these dudes to a whole new time period.

"They don't know damn near any of the things in our house. How much time do I have?"

"4 hours a day" She said fast.

"4- you're giving me 4 hours to figure out their clothes and teach them stuff?Why only four hours? What are you doing?"

"The same thing. But i"ll teach two, you'll teach 1"

"You still didn't answer my question, why only 4 hours?"

"You'll get attached." a scoff coming from my throat. "I don't get attached alright. I know how to teach and not care about my students thank you very much."

"So, you're going to forget the one with the-"{

"I TOLD YOU TO NEVER SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN. " She looked over at the strangers

The brothers going back and forth at the sisters.

"Plus he doesn't count"

"Fine! Who am I taking."

"John."

Penelope gave her a sarcastic look. She has no idea who is who.

John twisted his toothpick around his his mouth as he got up to follow the girl upstairs into her room.

He wasn't to far behind her with cap on his head. His eyes looking her up and down taking in her clothes, her hair, and even her socks.

"So, you're John Shelby." She said setting up an area in her room for her to start teaching him.

"And your the famous Penelope Taylor."

"Glad the introductions are over, so tell me about your life. I want to see where I need to start

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hello, I saw that you wanted Fred requests and I shall fulfill your wishes lol. I was thinking a Malfoy!reader when she’s In Hufflepuff and is just nice and she’s friends with Fred and George. One Christmas she goes home and comes back and only wears long sleeves. And Fred thinks she got the dark mark so he confronts her and she is offended bc he thought she would do something like that and she try’s to walk toward him and he reaches for his wand. she shows him and she has bruises from her dad.

This is so angsty... I love it

Warnings: Abuse, sad. Big big sad.

You had been keeping to yourself a lot more lately. It was so strange. You never did that, you always came to Fred or George if there was a problem but right now you weren't speaking to anyone. Instead you'd have yourself wearing a cardigan. Even in a warm ass class room, you refused to take it off. You were so strange lately and Fred noticed Draco acting the same way. Course Harry knew why Draco was acting the way he was. Draco had the dark mark. Which immediately made the group question whether or not you had one too. Fred hated questioning your loyalty, for God's sake he was your best friend. But considering the way you were acting, this wasn't exactly looking up. Fred walked over to you one day and sat down. "Hey, Y/n. Would you like to stay with my family for the summer?" He asked. What better way to prove this theory than to have you close, right? "... I'd like that." You nodded with this distant look.

So there you stood in the living room. Even in a home that seemed so tightly packed, you were quiet and kept to yourself, occasionally disappearing. Bill could recognize something in you. He could recognize abuse. Especially after you caught something Molly nearly dropped with your arm and yelped. You would pull back from conversation when it started to be about your father and Bill recognized something was definitely wrong. Finally Fred had enough though. They all sat around when they were sure you were asleep. "I think Y/n might have a dark mark." George sighed. "I hate to agree here but I think she does too." Fred sighed. "I don't think that's what's going on here." Bill said. "She's been acting pretty off lately. So has her brother." Harry pointed out. "Look, I could see how you would think that that's what's happening but I really don't think that's what's going on." Bill said. "So what do you think is going on then?" Arthur asked. "So you suspect her too?" Bill asked. "She hasn't been seen around this house without a cardigan or long sleeves. She's been acting very strange since she's gotten here and avoids talking about home. Ohhh." Arthur realized what Bill was getting at at the end of his sentence. "Yes, Bill I see your concern now." Molly agreed. "Care to share with the class?" Ron asked. "Well..." "I say we ask her point blank." George said. "That's not a wise plan." Arthur said. "And what is? Let a potential supporter of you know who stay with us!?" Fred asked. "Where are the girls?" Molly asked. "... They're with her." George said. "Maybe we should ask for their opinion--" Fred said nothing, going upstairs. "Shit." Bill murmured.

"I really think we should tell someone." Hermione said softly. "what's the point? Guys he works for the source it's not going to do any good." Fred heard you say. "Still..." Ginny sighed. Fred knocked on the door and Ginny opened it after hearing shuffling. "Can I help you?" Ginny asked. "I need to talk to Y/n." Fred said. "Can your booty call wait and not be in my room?" Ginny asked. ".... Seriously Gin?" Fred asked. "Alright fine! Mione. Fred wants to talk to Y/n." Ginny said. Both girls shuffled out and he closed the door. "Fred? What's going on--" "Do you have a dark mark?" He asked. You blinked and stood up. "You really think that ill of me?" You asked, looking offended by that idea. "I think you've been acting off lately and you won't tell us why! Come on Y/n you've been really weird over the course of this year!" He said. You said nothing and Fred stepped forward in such a way that made you jump back. Your heart began to pound and you began hyperventilating. "I-I'm sorry." You whimpered. Fred halted after seeing that look. No.... Something isn't right. You were shaking and your face had pure terror across it. "Y/n... I just need to you take off the cardigan." Fred said. You shook slightly and finally brought your fingers to it before pulling it off. Bruises. Everywhere. Fred looked at you and ran a hand over his face. "Please don't hurt me..." You whispered. He looked at you and realized when he walked towards you angry he must've sent you into a haze. "Y/n, Princess I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly. He approached and you pulled back. He stopped. "Y/n... Breathe..." He said softly. "Ginny!" Fred called after a little bit. She popped her head in. "Hmm?" She asked. "Get Y/n some water." Fred said. "What did you do!?" Hermione noticed you. "I accidentally scared her." Fred said. Hermione pushed past him and she carefully put her hands on your arms. "Y/n you're not there. You're here, you're home. Okay?" Hermione said softly. You broke down sobbing against Hermione, gripping her as if she was the last thing you had. Fred couldn't believe that he made that happen. Honest to God he didn't mean for this to happen.

Fred slowly retreated and went back downstairs leaving the girls alone. "Well?" Bill asked. "...She doesn't have a dark mark." Fred said. Ginny frowned with a glass of water in her hand. "Sorry, you were questioning her loyalty and didn't think to ask the girls she was staying with!?" Ginny asked. "...." Fred's silence was enough as she sat down the glass of water and smacked him upside the head. "God you guys are fucking idiots." Ginny huffed before leaving. "What's going on?" Ron asked. "She's been living through abuse." Bill said. Fred sighed. "I cannot believe I just accused my best friend of being a traitor." Fred muttered. "Especially just to find out that that is actually what's been happening." George sighed. You cleared your throat, eyes still red. "Y/n dear--" "I'm sorry if I ever made you think that I'd support him. But I have details I think you might want to know." You muttered. "Y/n--" "I'm pissed with you." You said to Fred point blank. He looked down and you spoke. "You know who is staying at Malfoy manor. My father took the dark mark along with my brother but I outright refused. Not after they killed my friend." You said. Harry felt intense guilt, forgetting you were friends with Cedric. "Any guesses to what happened next, because if you actually think I'd take that fucking mark--" "We understand you didn't." Bill assured. You sighed letting out a humorless laugh. "My father didn't take me not doing that well. After all, I'm the disappointment to my family. The only non Slytherin and now the only one who refused to take that mark." You explained. "Y/n you don't have to--" "He hit me. Over and over again. Just to please that souless monster they call a dark lord. He stopped treating me like flesh and blood to make him happy and my mother let that happen." You snapped. "I cannot imagine..." Bill sighed. "I can't believe that you would ever doubt my loyalty to you. Ever." You said to Fred. "You've been acting off Y/n, I didn't think this was why." Fred said softly. You shook your head. "Now you know. Please just... Fuck off." You muttered before walking back upstairs. Fred let out this groan of guilt in his hands. "I can't... I just accused my grieving friend of supporting the guy who killed her friend" he said. Molly went upstairs to check on you and Fred sighed. "I know... I mean I was right behind you on this theory I really thought..." George agreed. "What made it obvious to you Bill?" Fred asked. "Last week mom nearly dropped a crate. Y/n gabbed it with her arms and nearly screamed when she gripped it... I knew after she was holding her arms afterwards something else was going on." Bill said. "You could've said something earlier." George said. "I tried. You two weren't having it." Bill huffed. "I forgot for a moment that she was friends with Cedric... How could I... How do I forget something like that!?" Harry asked, referring to your reaction after the games seeing him dead.

When Harry came back with Cedric you were standing with his father... You were there sobbing into Fred's arms. How could all of them just... Forget that moment? Fred sighed. Fred sat at the table until everyone had gone to bed. You came downstairs for something to drink and he looked up after you sat down in front of him. "I'm sorry I got upset with you earlier... With the way I was acting I would've thought I was guilty too." You muttered. "Y/n I am so sorry... I just... I'm terrified that that bastard is lurking around the corner and he's going to just... Take everything." He admitted. You nodded. "Trust me when I saw him it was terrifying." You muttered. "You saw him?" Fred asked. "I said he was in the manor." You reminded. "Still... Face to face?" Fred asked. "Mmhmm." You nodded. "Blimey... That's..." Fred leaned back. "I'm sorry Y/n... For scaring you, for blaming you, for... Everything." Fred said. You took a sip of water and sighed. "It's fine--" "No it isn't. Y/n you've trusted me with so much and I feel like I've betrayed you. So... Ask me anything. Anything at all." Fred said. "Secret wise?" You asked. "it can be." Fred nodded. "...What did your Amortentia smell like?" You asked. Fred never said his out loud. He sniffed it, nodded and then leaned back and outright refused to answer Snape's question of what it smelled like. Then again, you also avoided it like the plague, not answering it either. "anything else?" He asked. "Nope. What did it smell like?" You asked. "Fuck uhm..." He sighed and squinted, debating if he should say. He did owe you the truth so... "You." He finally admitted. "What?" You asked. "You. The potion smelled like you." Fred admitted. "... You're serious?" You asked. "Yep." He nodded. "mine smelled like you." You admitted. "...Wait what?" Fred asked. "My potion smelled like you!" You repeated. "....Holy... I could've spent this entire time with you and I-- Christ how many stupid decisions have I made!?" Fred asked. "Uhhh Fred" "I mean seriously, am I going to accuse George of arson next-- actually that one could happen" "Fred" "Am I going to accidentally frame Ginny for murder!?" He asked. "Fred!" You said. "What!?" "We can fix this now. I mean if you still feel the same way." You said. "... You would want that? After everything that's happened today?" Fred asked. "Everyone has their rough patches Fred. Even us." You said softly. He took your hand in his. "Will you please be mine?" He asked. You smiled and squeezed his hand.

"I solemnly swear it."

[bitchapalooza]

More hetalia highschool AU, 🌟magic team🌟 edition :)

Under the cut bc it is long ❤️

Vladimir is that one kid obsessed with Twilight but only for the vampires; it was his first ever exposure to vampires thanks to his dad thinking Twilight was an appropriate book for a 11 year old. Team Edward going strong for five years, he'd proudly declare like it actually mattered. He tries his best to dress goth at school even though his uniform gets in the way. Fake ear piercings(his parents won't let him pierce them yet), over the top makeup, he's dyed the top half of his shoes black because his parents were concerned about his obsession with black and wouldn't buy him the black tennies he wanted— "mom look, these are marked down for back to school! Can I pleeeease get them???" "....may I know why the black ones specifically?" "They match the ever nothingness of my soul." "Yep! The white ones it is then!" "Mooooooooooom!"— Vladimir has been dubbed the cringy vampire kid of course.

Lukas is into pretty much anything concerning cryptids and magical creatures because they can't be proven to be fake or real, which intrigues him. He carries a book about mushrooms at all times and info dumps on pretty much anyone about identifying poisonous mushrooms and which mushrooms are safe to eat. His backpack is covered in buttons and pins to show off his interests. He keeps an amethyst in the front pocket of his backpack, reason unknown other than to just randomly pull it out and let Mikkel look at it. He's that kid that always wears his hoodie no matter the season, he never takes it off. Under his hoodie is always a crude worded t-shirt that the school would not approve of, much less his parents. He's relatively quiet and because he's quiet he's considered a weird kid.

Arthur can't decide if punk is his style or if goth is. Either way, his way of self expression at school in addition to the uniform is horrible. Checkered black/red shoes his grandma got him with his older brother's hand me down worn out greying socks—"can I PLEASE just have my own clothes???" "we have perfectly good clothes for you in the garage! I can fix them up to fit you better and everything!" "but I want cool NEW clothes!" "those are cool clothes and as far as the other kids know, they're also new. Now get your transformer backpack and get to the car. I put a new patch on it last night so that should hold it for the rest of the year."— Old Pierce the veil shirt, with holes chewed into the collar from his older brother Dillan, peeking out from under his white polo. A black and red choker to match his black and red slowly tearing apart too big flannel on top of a black pull over. A deep blue beanie, the hoodie of his pull over almost constantly on top when outside the school. He dyes a part of his hair a different color every month. He spikes his hair using too much gel and is convinced he looks good. He talks too much about bands and always gets Vlad and Lukas going on and on about fictional creatures he does not FULLY believe in himself. He does, however, believe in magic and loves Harry Potter, more specifically the Weaselys, to bits.

Natalya is a sophomore, a year behind the boys, and she just kinda pushed her way into the friend group until they eventually accepted her into it. They were the only three she knew who liked occult related topics. She's on the baseball team because she wanted an excuse to hit things with another thing and NOT get detention because of it. She wears the khaki uniform skirt and takes full advantage over being able to wear any kind of tights underneath; skull pattern, plain black, blood splatter pattern, fire pattern. Anything that makes her feel like a badass. She's always talking about antiques and forging weapons, more specifically knives. She has a whole collection of fidget toys but her favorite is this pea pod keychain her father gave her. She's always talking about how she'd like to be a medical examiner and to just prove that she's serious, she'll bring up a picture of a human model and point out the difference between a self inflicted fatal wound and a homicide. She puts up a charade of being able to see and talk to ghosts to freak out Alfred, her extended friend first met through Tolys.

They collectively believe they're cool and that other people know this. They're genuinely blind to the obvious snickers sent their way, being called losers and nerds. They're really knowm for like really pathetic things like; Natalya is Ivan's, tallest and most intimidating member of the wrestling team, weird younger sister by a year. Lukas is just the weird quiet kid that reads by the courtyard garden during lunch. Vladimir is not only the vampire goth kid but the kid who's parents believe the teachers are giving his son low grades on purpose and will yell at them for it. And Arthur is just. He's another Kirkland, immediately assumed to be a massive trouble maker because of his now graduated brother Alistair and one grade above him brother Dillan. Everyone loved his eldest brother Darick and sometimes compare him to Darick.

Compared to what others THINK they do, such as witch craft for some odd reason, the four of them do pretty typical teen activities. Like hang out at the mall. Do their honework together. Play video games and D&D when they have the chance. The boys do have sleepovers still as they have since meeting each other in middle school, Nat not really being a fan of sleeping where she doesn't live but comfortable enough to go to their houses and just chill for the day. They have become friends because of their related interests but thats not what they're ALL ABOUT.

Fun facts/stories about these losers I thought about while bored as fuck:

• Lukas, in his freshman year, went on a nature hike field trip with his lit class after reading Into The Wild. And he brought his mushroom book of course. They walked around, looking at the sights, talked about the book. Lukas just stops at one point, falling behind the class. He picks up a mushroom, goes to the teacher and is like "You see this? Its not poisonous." And straight up fucking eats it without warning. The teacher called an ambulance even though Lukas kept telling him he was fine and that that mushroom was 100% okay to eat raw, but for sure better off cooked. Lukas calmly shows the paramedics his book and they're like "yeah that actually was safe to eat, we don't need the book to confirm that, but um. Please don't ever pick something off the ground and eat it again. Just. Please don't do that, son." .....he did it again before leaving to go back to school but this time he didn't tell anyone.

• In elementary school, Natalya brought in a model of the human brain she asked her dad to borrow. He had to say yes because she was his only child genuinely interested, not bored of, his medical profession and he found it very cute and honoring. So she's at show and tell, its her turn right, and she silently goes up to the front of the class and pulls out the model brain. Teacher tries to step in because, hey, these are 6 year olds—AND WHY DOES THIS 6 YEAR OLD HAVE A PLASTIC BRAIN??? But Nat just shooshes her. In surprised shock, the teacher is just quiet as Nat begins to explain parts of the brain and their function— which was all wrong actually. She knew the words and everything but she didn't get the locations right. She sounded confident and smart and she was telling this to a bunch of 6 year olds so they believed her of course. End of the school day, her dad is having a hilarious conference with his youngest's teacher about the brain incident.

• Vladimir loves reading. He's loved it since he began to learn how, even if his dyslexia gives him grief along the way. So since he loves to read he'll always get excited and read ahead in class or in the public library reading club. One summer, the reading club was reading The Giver and it was getting really good. Vlad was loving the story, so much so that Vlad began to read ahead in his own time when he really wasn't supposed to be, the club was reading it together out loud and discussing it. Now he's read enough and worked hard enough to figure out how to help himself focus better and understand each word and sentence without having to reread it all multiple times over or get stuck. But sometimes the meaning and context to what he's reading doesn't ALWAYS process with the words as he's too focused on reading the words right and it passes right over his head. So Vlad is reading ahead and he's getting to the part where The Giver has given Jonas the memory of the sled again. And Vlad just sits there after reading that paragraph. He rereads it. And rereads it again. And then he leaves his book on his bed, goes to the the hall closet and takes out the ironing board. He grabs a plastic container to use as an ill attempt of a helmet and he just. Rockets down the staircase and hits the wall. He screams and cries and his parents rush in from the livingroom. When asked what happened he just says "I wanted to understand the sled scene better! Now I do and I feel really bad for Jonas!" He just couldn't quite grasp WHY the sled accident hurt, never had a broken bone nor sled afterall, and needed to find out. And that's how Vlad got his first broken arm at the age of 12.

• When Alfred and Matthew moved in with Arthur's family, Arthur didn't like it. He was a moody young teen but he was also just tired of the full house. His cousins were loud and nosey. He had to share a room with his four older brothers already and now with Matthew while Kathleen and Alfred got a room to themselves. Arthur thought this was so unfair. So his solution was to run away. He was 13, he needed a place to have some peace and quiet for once. So he texts Francis and Lukas, the only two of his friends living in his neighnorhood. Francis is not on board with helping him run away at first but then Lukas brings literally all his camping gear for Arthur's use and then Francis is on board because he had the feeling Arthur was going to get himself killed somehow. So as the elder one of the group he accompanied Arthur and Lukas out to the short stretch of woods behind the last street of their neighborhood, intending to go to the big clearing before hitting the roads leading to the airport and whatever else buildings. They're out there setting everything up together and they're done by like 4 pm. They sit down and talk, munch on oreos and other snacks Arthur deemed as essential survival foods. Then Francis looks at his cell and remarks "wow its already 6! Ah, Lukas, we should get home. Afterall, neither of us ran away so we still have supper to eat. Come on Lukas, let's go before our parents come looking for us." They exchange goodbyes, Francis trying his best to hide his cocky smirk. So Lukas and Francis start walking off, Arthur crawls into the tent and eats half a cookie before frowning and feeling too alone. He didn't expect to feel alone because all he wanted was to BE ALONE. Before he knows it, he's running out of the tent yelling after his friends to stop and wait up. "Oh whats wrong, Arthur? I thought you wanted to run away." "I— I forgot I hadn't fed my rabbit is all! I'll run away tomorrow! I'm not... Feeling lonely if.. If that's what you think...." Arthur did not run away the next day. Buuuuuut the three plus Vlad made a tree house together in the Kirkland backyard that they still use today!

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Forty Two

Ron goes back to his room with a lot on his mind. 

He hopes he doesn’t let it show because Hermione always has been and always will be inquisitive. The second she realizes something’s off she won’t be shy about asking him about it. 

And he’s always been a shite liar and she’s always been persistent and both of those things are amplified given their current situation. He isn’t even sure he could lie to her again if he tried. 

“She’s always just wanted you Ron.” 

Harry’s word plays over and over with every step he climbs up to the attic. 

Admittedly, Ron’s been nothing short of emotional as of late and he knows Harry wouldn’t play with his feelings or get his hopes up. Especially now. 

When he faces his door he does his best to drop all the selfish thoughts he has about Hermione wanting him. About her admitting as much to him as the two of them live out the rest of their days not only as best friends, but as lovers. 

Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath and wipes his sweaty palms on his jean clad legs. 

Healer appointment. Focus on the healers appointment. 

With that last thought, he turns the brass knob and pushes his creaking door open. 

Thankfully, Hermione’s awake and looks better than she did when he left. He was afraid she was going to be sick last time he saw her. The look of disgust and the palness across her features after repeating Bellatrix’s words was an image pungent in his mind. 

However, now she looks calmer. Her nose is in a book, the book he gifted her no less, as Narcissa sits behind her and gently strokes her hair which is now in a loose plait. 

“Hey.” He says softly. 

She peers up from the text and offers a shaky smile. Though it seems forced, the look in her brown eyes lets him know she’s grateful for his presence and that alone makes him feel like he can do anything. 

Soon Harry appears from behind him, breaking whatever trance he and Hermione were locked into. 

“Hello.” The Chosen One says a bit stiffly, no doubt because of the fourth person in the room. “Did Ron tell you the plan?” He asks aloud. 

The ginger inwardly groaned at his abruptness, “I was getting to that, thank you.” 

“What plan?” Narcissa asks as Hermione also perks up. 

“Just that Harry will stay at The Burrow with Narcissa while you and I go to your appointment. This way he can keep Mum from poking around.” Ron says casually, knowing the subject of her going to St. Mungo was a bit sensitive ever since she found out about her magic. Or rather, lack thereof.

“Very well.” Narcissa says slipping out from behind Hermione and rising from the bed. “Do you mind if I use the loo before the lot of you leave? Two footsteps will be less suspicious when there are three of you up here.” She says. 

Weasley flicks his eyes to an annoyed looking Harry before he sighs aloud. 

“Alright, I’ll show you.” He agrees half heartedly as he walks out of the room. 

Once they leave Ron shuts the door softly before stepping further into the room and sitting at the edge of his bed, by her sock covered feet. 

“Your hair looks pretty.” He tells her. 

At this, Hermione twinges pink as her uninjured nimble fingers softly caress the intricately woven hair. 

He swallows, willing himself to ask what he needs to say, “Are you ready for the appointment?” 

The blush immediately leaves her cheeks as her entire face turns a ghostly white. 

“Mione.” He says sadly, placing his hand gently on her uncasted calf and giving it a small squeeze. 

Suddenly her nose scrunches as a small sniffle sounds. 

“No, come on, please don’t. It’ll be alright I swear.” She tips her head down, “Hey, you’re still as much of a witch as you ever were.” 

Hermione’s eyes remained trained on the orange quilt. Gently, Ron reaches out and tips her chin up with two fingers. 

“How many witches or wizards, for that matter, can say that they’ve gotten all O’s? Or how many underage wizards have apparated without a license, without so much as a lesson? Not even Dumbledore.” 

At this she lets out a watery chuckle. It sounds strangled, but it’s something. 

“There she is.” He smiles as her eyes finally meet his. His face turns serious, as he goes on, “No witch or wizard can say they’ve endured the Cruciatus Curse as much as you and still be alive, to still be brilliant. And besides Harry, not many can say they even survived You-Know-Who.” The voice grew quiet hoping his words wouldn't upset her, but help her realize how special she is. 

A few tears leak out of her eyes but after a moment she bites her lip hard and slowly nods. 

“Brightest Witch of Our Age.” He whispers softly as he leans in close to her. 

At the feeling of his breath tickling the loose strands of her hair she allows her eyes to flutter shut as she revels in him. 

The smell of him, the feel of him. 

The feeling of the boy- no man she’s come to love. 

It’s strange really, when did her brave Gryffindor keeper, once a little boy whose biggest fear was spiders and greatest desire was to be locked alone in Honeydukes, become a man?

Somehow it just makes her realize she loves him even more than she thought possible. 

That’s why this appointment was so important. 

It was the one thing giving her hope to one day talk again, so that she could talk so much he’d get tired of her. That she could work up the courage to share her experiences, but also tell him thank you. 

Tell him “I love you’. 

Sighing, so her breath mingles with his, she leans forward and presses her forehead gently against his. Letting him know she hears him, that she’s grateful for his words. 

In turn, he presses against her, shifting one hand to her hair to hold her more firmly, but still gently against him. 

One of her shaking hands works its way to his cheeks as she speaks, “R-ready.” She promises. 

They wish they could stay in this moment forever. 

...

Mr. Weasley had taken some time off of work to drive Hermione and Ron into London. 

She felt terrible she drew him away from such important duties on her behalf, only growing her frustrations about not being able to travel more efficiently. 

Of course Ron had sensed her guilt when his father mentioned as much. He was becoming rather inquisitive these days. So, he took Hermione’s hand in the back seat and whispered to her that she was the most important thing right now to him and his family. 

Though the comment made her blush like mad and didn’t do a whole lot to ease the fact she felt like a burden, she just nodded. 

It’s not like she could say much anyway. 

However, what it did make her think of was something else. A terrible thought, if you ask her. 

The fact of the matter is, it shouldn’t be Ron’s father driving her to St. Mungo’s, it should be hers. 

And if they were alive right now, she’s sure that would be the case. Her father behind the wheel and her Mum in the passenger seat. She was never one for driving through London traffic. 

God she missed them. 

She missed them so much that they seemed to be everywhere. 

When they pass a fabric shop on the way in, she’s reminded of how much her Mum loved to sew. Or when they were at a stop light and on the corner was a father buying his young daughter an ice cream cone, she’s reminded of when her father would do the same with her at the park by her house.

Her house. She misses that too. 

She misses the memories there. She misses what she used to know she was coming home to. 

Her parents. 

Now it was just full of things. 

Full of things that she wanted. Things that represented her parents and things that they loved. 

Things that would help her feel closer to them. 

If she even deserves to feel that way. Wherever they are, they’re probably ashamed to have her as a daughter. 

She’s a liar. She got them killed. They died because she was caught up in the magical world and now she can’t even cast a bloody charm anymore. 

None of this was worth it. 

Hermione’s doing her best not to cry. Knowing if she does, Ron will surely comfort her, something she doesn’t deserve. 

She doesn’t deserve to be told her parents loved her and that they’d be proud of her and everything she’s done. Because even if that were true, her parents shouldn’t think that of her. 

Not after all she’s done. 

Whether it's a good or bad thing, her thoughts come to a stand still, as does the car, as it pulls up to St. Mungo’s. 

Arthur turns in the drivers seat to look at the teens, “Alright, Ronnie you help Hermione out, I’ll open the door.” He instructs his son. 

Complying, Ron unbuckles his seat belt and goes to the boot to take out her chair. At first he struggles to unfold it, but soon he gets it as he wheels it to her now open door, thanks to his Dad.

Bending down and into the back seat he looks at her, noting the far off look in her eyes, but choosing not to comment. He’d fear this would happen. 

“I’ll lift you alright? Only for a moment, just don’t want you to get hurt.” He tells her, knowing how much she must hate needing all this help, even though no part of him minds giving it to her. 

She nods slowly, awaiting his embrace. 

When it comes, she grips onto his jumper tightly during the transition before being placed down effortlessly on her new companion, which she loathed. 

Hopefully this visit won’t be a total bust and they’ll give her crutches at the very least. 

Ron grabbed the handles and began guiding her through the front doors as his father followed next to them. Once inside, Arthur stopped, turning to face the pair. 

“Would it be alright if you guys headed up on your own? Kingsley told me earlier he’d be here to help work on an appeal for Hermione’s apparating underage and unlicensed fine. He needs some of your records to prove it was a necessity and I’ve got to sign off on it.” He told the pair. 

Great, just another thing the Weasley’s and now Mr. Shacklebolt had to worry about. 

Hermione just nodded. If the poor man was missing work to take her, at the very least she’d let him get some done here. 

“Very well. Good luck. Remember, third floor Ronnie. I’ll come up when I’m done.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ron said, shooing him off as he made his way to the lift. 

When they finally reach the Spell Damage ward, Ron looks as if he may be ill. Hermione supposes he spent a lot of time in this waiting room, worrying himself sick. 

She contemplates reaching out and grabbing his hand to let him know it was okay, that this time she was here with him. 

Just as she’s about to go through with it, she becomes distracted by two voices across from her. 

A woman and a man. They look to be middle aged and the matching rings tell her what she needs to know. They’re clearly married. 

“Your Mum’s signing some paperwork now, your Dad’s with her as well.” The man told her gently. 

The shorter one, with glasses, nods, “I reckon we’ll need to start the arrangements won’t we?” She sniffles. 

“Arrangements? What arrangements Delia?” 

“The funeral for Gran. Mum will be a wreck, we should help…” The words fade as she stops listening.

Hermione’s eyes grow wide at the words as she peers up at Ron, gently tugging on his sleeve. 

He looks down at her, she looks so small, so fragile, yet so gorgeous. 

“W-want th-at.” She croaks with doe-like eyes. 

Could this be it? Could this be the moment? She was just watching that couple snogging in the corner, after all. 

“What do you want darling? Anything you need and I’ll give it to you.” 

And he means it. 

Weakly she points to where the two of them stood, now embracing, rather than engaged in a lip lock. 

A hug? Does she want a hug? 

Merlin, just ask! Don’t eff this up. 

“I’m not sure I understand.” He tells her softly, definitely not the first time he’s said that to her. 

“A-a,” he can tell she’s getting emotional as his stomach pulls in anticipation, “fu-funeral.” She whispers brokenly. 

And shite, he wants to punch himself in the face for being such a prat and getting his hopes up in a hospital of all places, while she's grieving on top of that all!

“For your parents?” He asks knowingly. 

She nods slowly, moving one hand to wipe at her eyes. 

It breaks his heart. 

“Alright, we can do that.” He promises her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. He would do anything she asked. “I’ll talk to Mum about it when we get back. We’ll prepare it just how you want. Something to honor your parents… and your grandmother.” 

Okay, now he really wishes he punched himself in the face! That really was not at all how he intended to break that news to her, but it just sort of came out. The couple in the corner was whispering about their own grandmother and he just- ugh! He hates himself. 

Her bottom lip quivers before the floodgates open. 

Instantly, he crushes her best he can to his chest, quieting her cries with the front of his jumper. 

“Sh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it- I-” He inhales a shaky breath, “I have the letter at home that your parents sent. They said it was peaceful, that she thought of you and that she’s with your grandfather now.” 

At his words her glassy eyes grow wide again. The words offer a little comfort to her. To have something from her parents and something about her grandmother waiting for her. 

Something she knows she can have. 

“I’ll give it to you first thing when we get back to The Burrow.” He swears, unashamedly pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Thankfully, he feels her nod into him, taking it as a good sign that she’s still receptive to his words. 

“Hampstead.” It takes her a while to say as her voice shakes over every syllable. 

“You wanna have it in Hampstead?” He tries. 

She shakes her head. 

“G-go.” She feels stupid, honestly. Babies can form fuller sentences then she can but she really is lacking the energy to have at it right now. 

“You wanna see your house?” He whispers slowly into her ear. 

Thank god Ron knows her as well as he does. 

She nods. 

Without a thought, he pulls her closer and responds. “Of course. I’ll talk to Dad about it. I’ll talk to my parents about everything you want, it’s the least I can do. And if they say no Mione, I promise I’ll bring you there myself darling.” 

He supposes it really is a conversation he and his parents need to have, not only for travel purposes but also for Hermione’s own sake. Arthur saw her house after the attack, he needs to make sure nothing there will set her off in any way. And if there is something, he wants it gone. 

Because Hermione wants to see her house and if he can give her anything, he was sure as hell going to. 

And maybe because she’s exhausted both physically, from traveling, and emotionally from all she’s just found out, but she can’t bring herself to verbally thank Ron. 

Instead she snakes one hand to rest on his cheek and gently places her lips there. 

Her lips on his skin makes him feel warm and tingly inside. He’s briefly taken back to the first time she’s done this, before his fifth year quidditch match. 

He remembers a time not too long ago where he thought that would be the closest he ever got to kissing Hermione. 

Having her here like this again, he knows to never take advantage of that again.

Of her. 

When she pulls back a pretty blush is on her cheeks, as he feels his own face burn red. 

He offers her a grin, one that Hermione could only describe as purely Ron. 

She has no choice but to offer a small, real, genuine smile in return. 

“Hermione Granger!” A shrill voice calls out, ruining the moment. 

He sighs, but stands up, maneuvering her chair to the mediwitch. 

“Hello.” He tells the woman. 

“You’re Hermione Granger?” She asks, not looking up from the clipboard, not bothering with a hello. 

“Well no, she is.” He says, as if the wheelchair wasn’t a dead giveaway. Oh yeah and the fact he was a bloke. 

“Will you be coming in with her?” She asks next, scrubbing something onto the parchment with her quill. 

“Uh…”

“Well?” The woman finally looks at the pair, glasses pushed down to her nose as she taps her nails against the board impatiently. 

Hermione nods for Ron, making him breathe a sigh in relief, he didn’t want to assume anything, but he hoped. 

“Very well. This way please.” The witch says next as she walks along the corridor. 

Soon enough the witch leads them to a room, which much to both Ron and Hermione’s relife, looks nothing like the one she was staying in for so long. 

It’s more of a standard exam room. A high up table with a thin sheet pulled over it, a chair next to it, as well as a scale in the corner. It reminded Hermione a lot of her Muggle physician’s office. 

Hermione sat idly in the chair, not even bothering with mounting the high table, waiting for the mediwitch to check her vitals, or something. After all, this was her first healing appointment. 

Instead, the woman places the clipboard down and turns to them. “Healer Jamison just finished with another patient. He’ll be in soon.” With that, she leaves. 

In her wake, Hermione can’t help but find the fact she didn’t examine her at all very odd. It soon dawns on her that if the unhealed bruises and cuts aren’t enough of a reminder, that her body can’t handle magic. 

Before Ron can even speak to her, ask how she is, things like that, a knock sounds on the door. 

After a moment, the door is pushed open. Hermione doesn’t remember him all that well, but she knows it's Healer Jamison. He’s a plump, older man, with a scruffy white beard and thin white hair to match. 

“Hello Miss Granger.” He says before turning to Ron, “Mr. Weasley.” he nods. 

“Hello sir.” Ron says, knowing Hermione probably felt rude for being unable to properly greet the man. 

“Before we begin with anything else, I have to ask, have you been able to speak?” 

Hermione gulps and shakes her head, almost in embarrassment. 

“That’s alright.” The healer assures, “I’m just going to take a look at your throat. Better for us to be safe.” 

In acknowledgment, Hermione nods, knowing what this entails. However, instead of pulling out a flashlight, the man lights a lumos on the tip of his wand. 

“Open.” He tells her. 

The brunette does as she’s asked, sticking her tongue out as far as it can go so he can get a good look. After a moment, he seems satisfied, because he pulls his wand away and she closes her mouth. 

“There’s a bit of phlegm building up in there. Have you been having trouble breathing?” He asks her. 

She shakes her head. 

“Alright, if you notice, please come in immediately. Also, keep an eye out if you begin coughing every now and again, but there’s nothing to worry about right now.” 

Yeah, except for the fact I can’t even string along a sentence. 

Next, Jamison checked her cuts and bruises. He redressed a few wounds and put new bandages on the nastier ones. After, he asked her about her leg and arm, both in casts, asking her to hold up a number from one to five on how bad the pains were. 

Ron’s chest tightens when she holds up a five. 

“Now, for the next part of the exam, I’m afraid this is going to be a bit of a risk.”

“Risk?” Ron asks as Hermione goes stiff. 

“Yes. I need to perform a scan to check on the remnants of dark magic in her system.” He says to Ron before directing his attention back to Hermione. “Our hope is that some of your cells killed it off, but we can’t be sure. The scan doesn’t require a lot of magic on my end, therefore a lot won’t be put into your body Miss Granger, but there is a possibility it could do a lot of damage. Do you consent to a scan?” 

Ron turns to look at her, hoping she’ll refuse. 

Of course she doesn’t. 

“Y-yes.” She chokes out. 

Jamison seems pleased with her words and the fact she spoke aloud. 

“Very well. Give me a moment to page Healer Evangeline. We’ll need another professional in the room just in case.” With that, he exited. 

“Mione.” Ron moaned painfully, not even being able to fathom the thought of her hurt or worse again. 

She looks at him and frowns. 

She had to say yes. He knows that. He knows how much her magic means to her, he just wishes things were different. 

“I know. I know, I just- I don’t wanna see you hurt love, not again.” Never again. 

Hermione reaches over and squeezes his hand. Trying to let him know she’ll be okay. Deep down he knows she will be too, she’s too strong to let a medical scan best her. 

At least he hopes. 

Not even a moment later another knock sounds as Jamison walks in with a younger looking woman with dark brown hair and glasses perched at the end of her nose. She looks vaguely familiar. 

“Hello Miss Granger. I’m Healer Evangeline, we worked a bit together but you were pretty out of it.” She tells the girl. 

Hermione likes her, she seems sweet. 

“Hello Ron.” She adds after the fact. 

Ron waves weakly, too stressed about what could happen to form coherent words. 

“Now, we’ve discussed the risks, but one thing I can assure you is that you’re going to feel very tired after, alright?” Jamison informs, making Hermione nod weakly. “Mr. Weasley, would you mind laying Miss Granger down on the table?”

Ron complies, gently lifting her onto the scratchy sheet. Once he sets her down, he grabs her hand, and she accepts by weaving their fingers together and trying to offer a smile. 

He sees it falter, he knows she’s as scared as he is. 

“Alright, are you ready for me to begin?” The older man asks. 

Reluctantly Hermione nods, as her grip on Ron’s hand tightens. 

The edge of Jamison's wand lights a tealish color as the light stretches forward and works its way up Hermione’s body. 

Upon the impact she jumps slightly as her eyes shut tightly and her face contorted in pain. 

“Stop!” Ron roared. 

Evangeline placed a hand on his shoulder, “it’s almost done. She’ll be fine. She’s strong.” The woman reminds him. 

Trying to ground himself, Ron focuses on the feel of her hand as he begins whispering to her quietly, “Come on Mione. You’re okay, love. You got this.” 

It’s eerily similar to when he’d talk to her whilst she was unctuous, when he was unsure she would ever wake again. 

The thought makes him sick. 

Thankfully, the light soon goes back into Jamison's wand as the room fades back to normal and Hermione’s body visibly relaxes. 

“Very good.” He praises. 

Meanwhile, Ron wipes some sweat from her forehead, placing a light kiss in his hands wake. “You’re brilliant.” He whispers. 

Tiredly, she looks up at him. 

“I’m going to go read the results.” Jamison interrupts. “It’ll just take me a few minutes. In the meantime Healer Evangeline has some of her own examinations to perform on Miss Granger, yes?” 

The woman nods, “Yes. Ron, would you mind giving us some privacy?”

While he didn’t love the idea of leaving her alone he understood some things he shouldn’t see. Like if she was checking any cuts on her chest or ribs, knowing she had broken a few. Or maybe in more personal spots.

Though she surely didn’t have an injury down there. Right? Wait, what even was Healer Evangeline’s title anyway?

“Right yeah. I’ll be right outside.” He tells Hermione more than anyone else, as he follows Jamison out of the room. 

In the waiting room, he can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him as he walks over to the information desk. 

“Excuse me.” He says to the little wizard behind it. 

“How can I help you sir?” He asks politely, large improvement from the mediwitch. 

“Hi, I was wondering what Healer Evangeline specialized in?” He gulped, wow he sounded like a right tosser. 

“Evangeline is our leading gynecologist here at St. Mungo’s!” He praised.

Ron went pale. 

“Is your girl pregnant? She’s the best with stuff like that.” 

“Uh- uh.” He stutters unsure what to say. 

“I won’t tell, don’t worry. Good luck kid.” The man smiles before returning to his paperwork. 

Slowly, Ron sauntered back over to the door. He pressed his back against the wall next to it and hunched over. He placed his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths. 

He wasn’t daft, he knew what women's healers did. 

It was just standard, wasn't it? Relax Ron. Nothings wrong. You’re overthinking. Death Eaters aren’t that bad right? 

Part of him knows he’s kidding himself. 

Images and thoughts flash in his brain that make him think of nothing but pure murder. His fists clench at his sides as his jaw tightens. 

Deep breaths Ron. Deep breaths. Just ask Mum when you go home if it's routine. Don’t freak out. Not here. Don’t do that to Hermione. 

Over and over Ron told himself it was procedure until Jamison returned. 

“Alright my boy?” He asked, noticing his heaving. 

Taking a shaking breath Ron nodded. 

Jamison furrows his brow but doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he knocks on the door and after hearing a ‘come in’ from Evangeline, the pair enter. 

Upon seeing Hermione again Ron eases a bit knowing she’s okay. That she’s here. That whatever they did to her they will never be able to do again. 

With a flick of his wand a large image is projected of what seems to be a white outline covered in black blobs. 

“Here’s your scan.” 

Ron tenses, now focused on an entirely new problem. 

That’s a lot of dark magic. 

“Not much has changed, just the magic moving throughout your body. There has been slight improvement and it’s good news that you were able to withstand the scan today. The hope now is that as your external cuts heal, your body will then be able to exert its energy on internal matters. So while it isn’t the best news, it’s not bad either. Keep taking it easy. It is crucial that you heal in order to do magic again, alright?” 

The news upsets Hermione. Like Jamison said, it's not terrible, but it’s not great. She wants to cry at the imprint Bellatrix left on her. 

At the fact that she’s essentially made her into the thing she always taunted heart as being, magicless. 

But right now, she’s too exhausted to even think properly, her body so spent from undergoing magic. 

“I can tell you’re exhausted. If any questions come up please floo me.” Jamison comments, signaling Ron to move her to the chair. 

She’s so limp in his arms, clearly fighting off sleep. Once he places her down he squats and brushes some of her hair back. “Rest now, love. It’ll be okay.” He promises. 

Weakly she nods as her eyes flutter shut as her head luls to the side. 

“Thank you both so much, but I reckon we should get going. I know my Mum will want to floo you Jamison so you’ll hear from us soon. I know this one will have a lot of questions as well.” he says weakly. 

“Of course son, let me get the door for you.” 

With another exchange of thank you’s, Ron leaves. He finds his Dad in the lobby as they walk together to the car. On the way he fills him in best he can, biting his tongue about the questions he has about Healer Evangeline. The good news is, his father says the fine for Hermione apparating without a license should be dropped within the week. 

Other than that they don’t speak.

Ron just enjoys Hermione’s sleeping form across his lap as he strokes her hair. Letting the feeling be a reminder that she’s here with him. 

The whole way home his thoughts are plagued by the things Hermione probably underwent in that place. Unforgivables. Starvation. Physical torment. Torture. Maybe even worse things. 

It makes him sick. 

He supposes the thought of not knowing almost makes it worse, like he has no choice but to theorize the worse. This is certainly something he and Narcissa will need to discuss. 

Then he thinks of her wish to have a funeral. 

The promise he made her of going to visit Hampstead. 

He knows he should do it before Hermione wakes up, hoping it’ll take one thing off her plate. Like Jamison said, she needs to rest. To heal. 

Soon enough he sees the crooked shape of The Burrow come into view as his father pulls up onto the grass. 

Ron opts for carrying her into the house, not bothering with the chair. It worries him a bit that she doesn’t even stir. 

“Go put her upstairs, then come down. I’m sure your Mum will want to know about the appointment.” Arthur says, clapping him on the shoulder. 

Ron nods and takes the steps two at a time. 

He lays Hermione in his bed gently, tucking the quilt around her. 

“I’ll be back soon, darling.” He promises before going back down the steps. 

When he arrives back in the living room he finds his parents talking in hushed whispers and his Mum, for whatever reason, looks right pissed. She has her arms crossed against her chest and a scowl on her face. 

“Mum, Dad I need to talk to you about something.” He says gently, hoping that her anger wasn’t directed at him. 

“Conveniently, I need to discuss something with you as well. Shall we go to the kitchen.” She’s not asking as she’s already pushing her way there. 

Ron isn't sure why she’s so angry. He was surprised and almost a little embarrassed that she didn’t even ask about Hermione’s appointment. Nevertheless, he follows, trying to recall whatever the hell he did to piss her off. 

Just last night she was praising him, telling him how proud she was of him. 

His eyes bulge at the sight he’s met by, as do his fathers. 

“You wanted to talk to Ronald? Let’s talk.” She bites out. 

Ron’s eyes flick over to where Harry is standing, looking uncomfortable and apologetic. 

He mouths a quick ‘sorry’ to his best mate. Ron ignores it, eyes too focused on the fact that standing next to Harry is Ginny and next to Ginny, is Narcissa Malfoy.

[ursus-mari]

Morgana wakes from a dream of Gwen being crowned and is deeply confused.

When Gwen comes to wake her in the morning, Morgana asks her point-blank if she likes Arthur, to which Gwen, panicked at her years long crush asking about her starcrossed boyfriend, panics and says, “No!” then backtracks and says something like, “Not that-- I’m sure he’s perfectly lovely really, if you know him, which I don’t, I didn’t mean--”

Morgana snorts and goes, “Perfectly lovely? Arthur? Hardly.”

With that option (erroneously, mind) firmly off the table in Morgana’s book, she ponders the other possibilities. Uther? Never. Morgana would kill him before he forced Gwen into anything, and Gwen would never marry him of her own free will. So it can’t be any of the current royal family, and Morgana plans to take the throne soon…

That possibility that had been niggling in the back of her mind that she’d been refusing to entertain now seems the only viable option on the table, and Morgana blushes despite herself, butterflies lighting in her stomach.

She holds off on going to Morgause until she’s sure, and in that time, every time Gwen looks at her or touches her (quite often, given the duties of a maidservant) makes her giddy, and she starts to believe it despite herself.

Hating Gwen, kind, lovely Gwen, who holds her after she wakes up screaming and brings her flowers to brighten her day, had been so hard. This is effortless, by comparison. Natural. Like breathing. And if her dream is right, Gwen will feel the same, whether she falls now or later. Morgana is positively giddy.

Gwen deserves wooing, and Morgana starts to daydream of all the ways she could make Gwen happy… flowers for sure, maybe a dress? A romantic picnic, perhaps. The possibilities are endless, and Morgana cannot wait to start putting a smile on Gwen’s face.

Morgana starts by gifting Gwen whatever she seems enamoured by at the market. This includes but is not limited to pastries, pretty bobbles, truly expensive silk, a bouquet of flowers, and way too much jewelry. Gwen is really, really flustered by this and has absolutely no idea how to handle it. She tries to tell Morgana to stop, but Morgana is like “I’m basically a princess and if I want to buy gifts for my maidservant, I’ll damn well do so.”

Morgana’s not really got any concept of subtlety or taking it slow, see.

Poor Gwen is so flustered she feels like she could explode and has absolutely no clue where this came from, which only encourages Morgana to buy more stuff because she thinks Gwen being flustered is adorable. It’s as much the way Morgana is looking at her as it is the gifts, though, warm and fond and like Gwen hangs the moon and stars, and Gwen had missed that look, and she turns into a stammering wreck.

Afterwards, once Gwen’s collected herself, she explains to Morgana that she just can’t buy her things for money reasons, for Uther reasons, the whole shebang. And Gwen doesn’t really want or need those things, she says, and she certainly doesn’t want them all at once.

So Morgana has to go back to the drawing board.

Morgana goes to Morgause like, “Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a bit but I was wondering what you knew about wooing people.”

And Morgause is like, “??? Wooing people???”

“Yea.”

“Uhhhh, find their greatest desire and use it to manipulate them? Chop off their enemy’s head and propose a strategic alliance?”

So Morgana’s like, “...Right, so you’re absolutely useless, bye,” and fucks off to go look for other, more trustworthy sources.

The problem is she trusts absolutely no one other than Morgause so this is a difficult endeavor. She asks Arthur in a bid of desperation because he’s had flings, right???

Arthur goes, “Uh. Slay monsters very impressively? Show personal growth? Offer chicken? Have Merlin do it for you?”

Which is also useless, but she should have expected that, really.

She goes to the library as a last resort and tells Geoffrey, “BRING ME A BOOK ON WOOING!” in her most intimidating voice and Geoffrey scampers off to get that but he’s like. Really slow. Morgana waits as Geoffrey rushes and yet moves as fast as molasses, getting increasingly impatient and snappish.

What she gets is mostly a book on courtly rituals, so a lot of it is useless with Gwen but damn if Morgana isn’t going to try, but it also mentions something about asking family for permission, which, no, but it reminds her to go, oh! I’ll ask her brother!

And Elyan’s mostly like how many goddamn royals are in love with my sister (within the privacy of his own head, of course), but he also tells her that Gwen likes thoughtful, heartfelt gifts and honest work (and privately resolves to tease Gwen so much when she comes home).

So Morgana’s like???? Heartfelt???? What do I do with that??? Crap, what does Gwen like? But she’d given Gwen all the things she liked at the market, so that can’t be all there is to it?? Morgana is confusion?????

Okay, honest work. So should she make a gift?

Morgana doesn’t have any crafting skills though. Fuck. Uh.

She could embroider something? She’s crap at embroidery but she knows how to do it, at least. Something small, there’s only so much embroidering she can stand. Handkerchief, maybe? And that’s like offering a favor, almost, so that’s cool.

Morgana thinks back to the market and all the fabrics Gwen had lingered on and goes for a (relatively) moderately priced one that Gwen had run her fingertips over longingly.

So Morgana utilizes her well-honed sneaking skills to go buy the fabric, then bewilders Gwen by kicking her out to work. This is not her brightest idea, as it makes Gwen feel quite hurt and renews her suspicion.

After many, many hours of pricked fingers, extensive and creative cursing, and a half dozen traumatized servants (except not because if you work under the Pendragons on a regular basis you’ve probably got balls of steel, but Morgana certainly tries her best), Morgana comes out with a crude, messy rendition of a rose embroidered onto the (...maybe a little bloodstained? Whatever. It's fine.) handkerchief.

Morgana presents it to Gwen, shy and yet utterly pleased with her work, and Gwen wavers between fond laughter and bursting into tears. In the end, she just smiles so hard her cheeks hurt and thanks Morgana, then tucks it away like something precious.

Gwen still regards it with wariness, of course, because Morgana has up to this point been extremely suspicious and possibly (definitely) evil, but it's very hard to think it might be magically dangerous when it looks like a child's work and Morgana had seemed so sincerely proud. The fear and animosity melts away in the wake of it despite Gwen's best judgement, and, she reasons, it would alert Morgana to her suspicions if she didn't use it, right? It's only logical to use it and treat it like something precious and gaze upon it fondly, right? Right.

And now Gwen has two utterly romantically incompetent people she adores with all her heart doing their best to make her happy. And that's… yeah.

This might work out after all.

(Meanwhile, Arthur finds out who Morgana wanted to woo, and the two of them turn the courting of Gwen into a competition, because of course they do, ignoring entirely that Gwen is perfectly happy to date both of them, and plans of kingdom conquering fall to the wayside, much to Morgause’s chagrin.

Merlin regards Morgana with deep, deep suspicion that she returns with interest, but Gwen won't stand for the animosity so they grudgingly make nice while glaring at each other over Gwen's head and being blatantly insincerely sweet. They forget their hostility only when they both turn on Arthur, at which point they join forces in insulting him, Arthur complains, and Gwen laughs at them all. It turns out to be remarkably hard to sustain ill will in such a comfortable atmosphere; who knew? It's like there hasn't been attempted murder on both sides!

Uther is bewildered by his children’s good moods and Morgana's renewed disdain of him, and they merrily ignore him except when he's being genocidal. When his genocidal tendencies manifest once more, as they inevitably do, Merlin and Morgana are baffled to find themselves on the same side but remain vehement in their assertions that they do something about it, and Arthur is convinced by his very passionate friends and quietly conflicted but firmly insistent girlfriend.

(Merlin and Morgana feed off of each other’s strong feelings and forget to check with Gaius and Kilgharrah and Morgause respectively. As such, they have no one to talk them down into caution and suspicion, which is on the whole for the best as they find themselves a united front.)

This whole situation cumulates into a coup. Also, magic reveals. And long, emotionally involved, serious conversations about magic and its morality and Merlin and Morgana's roles in magic shenanigans thus far. There's a decent amount of shouting, maybe a few threats, hurt all around, but they make it through, and they do it without completely destroying their relationships with each other, so that's cool.

Uther is overthrown (Morgause is very upset to have missed it), the kingdom is absolute chaos, it takes a lot for Arthur to be seen as a legitimate, trustworthy ruler, but he has his people behind him, they call the knights of the round table and knight them, and they make it work.

Work is started on the legalization of magic.

Gwen does become Arthur's queen, and Morgana relives her dream, and finds herself overwhelmingly, brilliantly happy despite having been wrong. After all, afterwards Gwen throws herself into Morgana's arms to give her an enthusiastic kiss and wipes away her happy tears with the handkerchief Morgana had gifted her all that time ago.

And so they live happily ever after (or something mushy like that).)

[seven-homosexual-dinosaurs]

Say you won’t let go

My first song fic, let’s see how this goes :)

(Or rather, a one shot based very loosely around a song that at this point might not even be a song fic)

Based off the song “Say you won’t let go” by James Arthur (obviously)

Cathy had met Anne on a cool autumn night, standing in the corner alone at some party Thomas had convinced her to attend. Long abandoned by the latter, she scrolled through her phone absentmindedly. People danced and drank around her, the sound of bad decisions in the making filling her ears.

She’d looked up from her phone, only to come face to face with a girl about her age. Glossy, chocolate brown hair fell past her shoulders to rest on her lower back. Piercing emerald eyes gazed at Cathy nervously, a tint of pink staining her cheeks as her hands scratched at the back of her neck nervously. She wore a dark grey jacket over a deep green crop top, as well as a pair of ripped skinny jeans.

Cathy took a moment to collect herself, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Hi,”

Cathy smiled at the girl awkwardly. The girl brightened slightly at that, flashing her a brilliant smile.

“Hey,” she greeted, “I couldn’t help but notice you were looking kinda lonely over here and I think you look really pretty and sorry I just kind of blurted that out for no reason but doyouwannadancewithme?”

Cathy blinked at her blankly, taking a moment to process her words. As soon as they fully sank in, she felt a bright blush creeping along her face. She had half a mind to refute the offer, to remind herself she already had a boyfriend. Yet what harm could one dance do? Besides, it wasn’t like it would really do anything, right?

“Yeah!” she answered finally, a dorky smile spreading across her face, “Yeah, I’d like that,”

The mysterious stranger led her onto the dance floor, an excited grin overtaking her face. They swayed to the music gently, and despite her previously unsavory mood, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as the stranger twirled her around, singing along to the music joyfully. 

“I didn’t catch your name?” 

The stranger winked at her mischievously.

“Anne Boleyn, at your service,”

The music slowed, as did their dancing. Swaying to the music slowly, Anne rested her head on Cathy’s shoulder.

“And what about you, pretty-stranger-I-met-at-a-party?”

Cathy blushed at the description, her heart quickening. 

“Parr. Catherine Parr, but everyone just calls me Cathy,” She answered.

“Cathy,” Anne’s lips twitched into a smile. “I like it, it’s a nice name,”

“Thanks, I got it for my birthday,” Cathy deadpanned. Anne laughed, the noise sounding like heaven to Cathy’s ears. 

“Well Cathy,” Anne began playfully, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a shithole like this?”

“You flatter me,” Cathy answered blankly, despite the growing blush spreading across her face. Anne grinned at her response, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“...Well?” Anne asked, curiosity seeping into her voice. Cathy laughed awkwardly, carefully avoiding Anne’s gaze.

“Well my boyfriend kind of dragged me here,” She answered. Anne’s smile dimmed slightly at that, although it was back at full force as soon as it was gone. 

“Really? Who’s the lucky guy?” She inquired. Cathy cleared her throat uncomfortably, preparing for what was to come.

“Thomas. Thomas Seymour,”

She waited for the inevitable “Really?” or “You’re so lucky!” that always came whenever someone learnt of their relationship. It was getting annoying, really. She already had enough of her family telling her of how lucky she was to date a man like Thomas, she didn’t need to add more people to the mix.

Anne did none of those things. Instead, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Not a good reaction, but having some variety was nice.

“Thomas? I know that guy, he’s kind of a dick,”

Cathy frowned.

“Hey, I know he can come off as unpleasant at times, but he’s really a good guy at heart,” Cathy countered. Anne grimaced doubtfully.

“No, really, I’m serious. I’m friends with his sister, he’s a real piece of work,”

Cathy rubbed her shoulder uncomfortably, stepping away from the Boleyn girl apprehensively. 

“Yeah, well, I should probably go find him anyways. It’s getting late, so...”

Not waiting for an answer, she took off. She heard Anne yell something behind her, but she ignored it, choosing to weave her way through the crowd instead. What did she care what some stranger thought of her relationship, it’s not like it mattered anyways. It’s not like the fact that Thomas never told her he had a sister bothered her, everyone has their secrets.

“Tom? Thomas?” she called, ignoring the growing feeling of dread in her chest. Walking over past the kitchen, she finally found what she was looking for. Well, sort of.

Thomas sat on the worn couch, chatting excitedly with a girl Cathy recognized as her old friend Bethany. His hand rested on her waist, pulling her close to him as he pecked her lips, prompting a laugh from the latter. He cupped her cheeks gently, pulling her in for another kiss.

Cathy felt cold, a numb feeling overcoming her. 

“Thomas?” Her voice sounded distant to her ears, as if spoken by another person. He didn’t respond, Cathy felt as if she couldn’t breath. She ran from the room, she needed to get away from here. From everything. her feet carried her blindly, sweat gathering on her brow as an ill feeling settled in her stomach. 

Coming to a stop, she looked around to see where her feet had carried her.

She appeared to be in some kind on park, littered with all kinds of trees. Stars twinkled in the night sky, illuminating the empty park. Leaning against a tree, she lurched forwards to throw up, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Retching heavily, she jumped as felt a hand pull her hair out of her face. Anne Boleyn gazed at her, worry evident in her eyes.

“You alright mate?” she asked sympathetically. Cathy wanted to say yes, to tell her to go away and leave her alone. She wanted to pretend she was fine, to go back over to the party and fall into Thomas’ arms.

Oh god, Thomas....

She gagged, spewing the contents of her stomach violently. She felt Anne rubbing circles in her back, whispering quiet reassurances in her ear. Feeling her nausea subside slightly, she fell limp in Anne’s arms.

“What happened?” she asked gently. Cathy paused spitting some leftover bile from her mouth.

“You were right about Thomas, he... he...!”

Cathy couldn’t finish. It was as if saying the words would make them come true, she’d be forced to accept what had transpired before her very eyes. Anne pulled the taller girl into a tight hug, wiping her tears away gently with her thumb.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispered softly. Cathy sniffled quietly, hiding her face in the crook of Anne’s neck. 

“I don’t know why you’re even putting up with my shit anyways,” she choked out, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “You barely know me, why’re you even helping?”

Anne frowned at her, pulling her close.

“Hey, none of that, okay? Even if I don’t know you that well, I can’t just let you go through this alone”

“Besides,” her face blushed a bright red and she looked down at her feet “I kind of know you. You have Miss Greene for linguistics, right?”

Cathy looked up at Anne in surprise.

“Yeah, how-”

“We’re in the same class. You’re the girl in the blue hoodie that always has a coffee with her,”

Cathy nodded slowly, taking a moment to process the information. Rubbing the wetness out of her eyes, she looked Anne over once more, attempting to match the Boleyn girl to her memory.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you,” she mumbled numbly. Anne waved her hand dismissively, shrugging her apology off. 

“It’s fine, you look in a world of your own most days and we’ve never talked. I wouldn’t expect you to recognize me anyways,”

Cathy nodded in understanding.

“Wait...” she began slowly, “If that’s the case, then how come you recognize me?”

Anne blushed, carefully avoiding Cathy’s gaze.

“No particular reason. You mentioned Thomas earlier, right? What happened?” 

Cathy hesitated, looking away from Anne.

“Nothing important, I’m sure I just need to talk to him,”

Anne eyed her doubtfully, and Cathy felt a twinge of anger. She just had to talk to him, she was sure there was something to the story she was missing. There had to be.

Look, I’m going back to talk to him, whether you like it or not. You can stay here if you want, but I’m going,”

Turning away from Anne, she startled as she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Emerald eyes gazed at her (albeit worriedly), grim determination set into her face.

“No, I’ll come,”

The night was windy, Cathy realized as she drew her arms around her with a shudder. Dead leaves fluttered through the air around her, crinkling and breaking in the cool autumn breeze. The yellow glow of the street lamps illuminated the empty street, flickering and flashing in the night. It was really quite beautiful, Cathy noted. There was something otherworldly about it, how the gentle breeze swayed the leaves in the trees, the little group’s footsteps echoing on the pavement.

She knew they’d reached the house before even laying eyes on it. Music blared through the windows, the reek of alcohol and sweat tainting the air even as they stood in the driveway. Ignoring the worried glance Anne sent her way, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Cathy had no trouble locating Thomas, something which came both as a disappointment and a relief. Said relief was rapidly quelled as her eyes locked onto Thomas. The situation hadn’t de-escalated, rather, it appeared far worse than before. 

“Cathy? Did you- oh,” Anne faced shifted into a scowl as she took in the scene before her. She glowered at Thomas, muttering curses under her breath as Cathy felt tears gather in her eyes. She didn’t know why she thought it would have changed. She didn’t know why she thought it would have been different.

“-athy? Cathy?” Anne’s voice jolted her from her reverie. Her voice was laced with concern, although her eyes held nothing but contempt for the man before her. Taking in Cathy’s dazed expression, Anne shrugged her jacket off, placing it gingerly around Cathy’s shoulders.

“Here, keep an eye on this for me, will you? I’ll handle good ‘ol shithead over there,”

Cathy nodded numbly, pale knuckles gripping the jacket tightly. Sending one last glance towards Cathy, Anne set off towards Thomas, grim determination set into her face.

Meeting eyes with the Boleyn girl, her gave smiled at her charmingly. Resisting the urge to gag, Anne answered his smile with a sickly sweet smile of her own. Gesturing to Bethany, still in his arms, she spoke.

“Hey, don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“That ol’ gal? She doesn’t have to know,” he winked. 

“Really now?” Anne hissed through grit teeth, “You really are exactly how Jane described you and more,”

“Jane?” he asked, looking around the room. It was then, it appeared, that he finally noticed the frozen Parr at the entrance. Jumping up, he shoved Bethany off of him unceremoniously.

“Cathy!” he yelped. Cathy fixed him with an icy glare.

“That’s “Catherine” to you Thomas,” she hissed. Stumbling towards her, Thomas froze as Anne stepped before Cathy protectively. 

“I wouldn’t suggest coming any closer unless you wanna learn just how much damage these heels can do,” she threatened. Thomas paled, tripping over himself as he hurried to get away from the seething Boleyn girl. The rev of a car engine outside informed the two of his departure.

Turning to Cathy, Anne regarded her carefully.

“You alright mate? That can’t have been easy”

Cathy shrugged nonchalantly. Truth be told, she didn’t know. She felt angry and heartbroken, relieved and confused. Anne frowned, rubbing her neck in thought. Suddenly, a smile spread across her lips.

“Well then, I think I might have something to cheer you up,” 

Extending an arm to Cathy, she offered the girl a dorky grin.

“We never did finish our dance, did we?”

--------------------------------------------------

Anne awoke slowly, squinting in the harsh sunlight. Looking around, she smiled as her eyes landed on the slumbering Cathy beside her. She snored lightly, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest. Most days, Cathy would be up an awake at the crack of dawn, making breakfast and getting ready for the day. Today, however, proved different. A nasty bout of the flu had ravaged the house for a week, and Cathy proved to be it’s biggest victim. Even as she made a speedy recovery, her energy remained quite low, as proven by her slumbering figure.

Anne smiled as the door creaked open, two little figures padding into the room quietly. A freckled face peeked over the bed as Elizabeth Boleyn-Parr looked over to her mom with wide eyes.

“Hi mama,” she whispered, swinging her little body onto the bed and crawling into Anne’s arms. A little whine came from the side of the bed, a mess of black curls peeping over the bedside. Holding Liz with one arm, Anne lifted Mae off the ground onto her lap. Mae crawled over to Cathy, poking her cheek with a grubby finger.

“Mommy?” she asked curiously. Planting a kiss to her forehead, Anne smiled at her gently.

“Use your words baby,” she encouraged. Mae looked over to Cathy once more, placing a little hand on her cheek.

“I want mommy,” she whispered. Anne smiled proudly, gently prying Mae’s hands away from the sleeping Parr.

“Mommy’s sleeping right now, but she’ll be awake later,”

Mae pouted, shaking Cathy’s shoulders sadly. Crawling over to her sister, Liz grabbed her hands and pulled them away from their mom.

“Mae, stop! Mommy needs to sleep!” She whispered urgently. Mae whined, sticking her thumb in her mouth angerly. Faced with the upset toddler, Anne pulled both girls into her lap.

“Well Mae, don’t you wanna help Lizzie get ready for school?”

Mae looked from Cathy to Liz before nodding slowly, resting her head in the crook of Anne’s neck. Standing, Anne was careful not to disturb her sleeping partner as she rested Mae on her hip. Holding Liz’s hand, the group made their way out the room towards the kitchen.

“Do you think you could get dressed on your own today?” Anne inquired. Liz grinned toothily, shooting her a thumbs up.

“Yeah!” she cheered, running back up the stairs to her room. Watching her stumble up the stairs, Anne turned to the toddler in her arms with a smile.

“Well then, how about some breakfast?” she asked sweetly, bopping Mae’s nose. Mae giggled at the motion, nodding enthusiastically with a clap of her hands. Coming into the kitchen, she placed Mae on her high chair. Flipping through the cookbook Catalina had gifted the family the previous year, her lips twitched into a smile as her eyes landed on a blueberry pancake recipe.

“Hey, how would you feel about some pancakes?” she questioned. Mae kicked her feet happily, throwing her hands in the air.

“Panckies!” she cheered. Anne chuckled, grabbing the flour from the cupboard. 

“Panckies it is,”

Anne set to work making breakfast, chatting amicably with the happy toddler. Yawning, Liz padded down the stairs. She wore a a grey hoodie, along with a purple skirt and blue leggings. Sticking a blue journal in her sparkly green backpack, she trotted up to Anne.

“Mama? Where’s my lunch?” 

“It’s the brown bag in the fridge,” Anne gestured to the item in question, dropping a dollop of batter on the pan. Liz stuffed the bag in her pack, sneaking a fudge cookie into her lunch. Grabbing a pancake for Mae and Liz each, Anne grabbed a small stack for herself and sat down with the kids. Cutting up their pancakes, Anne handed both girls their breakfast.

“Mama, I want syrup,” Mae protested, pushing her plate back at Anne. Anne sighed, ruffling her daughter’s hair.

“Sorry love, mama forgot to pick any up when we went shopping,” she smiled sheepishly, “But I promise we’ll pick some up on the way to school,”

Mae considered it before nodding, shoving bits of pancake in her mouth. The group ate in a comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional scrape of cutlery or drop of a fork. Anne wiped the girl’s mouths with a napkin, grabbing the plates and placing them in the dishwasher. Patting Liz’s head, Anne picked Mae off of her chair.

“Could you wait at the door while me and Mae get ready?”

Liz nodded, running off to find her shoes.

Heading up to her room, Anne slipped out of her pajamas and into a green button up shirt and jeans. Dressing Mae to be much more of a challenge, seeing as the child in question wriggled about and refused to sit still. Finally, Anne headed downstairs, a dress clad Mae in her arms. Slipping into her shoes, Anne sent Liz an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the wait Liz, Mae was feeling a little fidgety,”

Buckling Mae and Liz into their respective seats, Anne pulled her phone out to send Cathy a quick message.

-----------

8:16 AM

You: Hey Cath, I’m out dropping Liz off at school and Mae at Jane’s place, so it’s just you at home for now. Remember to take it easy, you still need to rest. In case you do wake up in time to read this message, breakfast’s in the kitchen. Love you <3

-----------

Slipping into the driver’s seat, Anne pulled out of the driveway as the group made it’s way to the school. Ten minutes and many yelled out songs later found Anne parked in front of the school, waving Liz goodbye. 

“Bye Lizzie, love you! Say hi to Mary for me!” she called. Mae peeked over the window, waving enthusiastically. 

“Bye bye!” she yelled. Liz waved back at the car before running off to the play structure.

Next stop was Jane’s house, where Mae would be having a playdate with Ed, Jane’s son. They got there relatively quickly, Anne noted as she stood at the doorway, resting Mae against her hip. The door opened at her knock, revealing Jane Seymour, her son Ed at her heels. Light blonde hair rested on her head in a messy bun, kind grey eyes greeting Anne warmly. Her figure was short and plump, a sharp contrast to her brother’s tall and muscular build. She was, as Anne liked to say, “friend-shaped”. 

Like his mother, Ed’s hair was light blond, although it was rather thick and puffy. He was a petite figure, although his small size was easily made up for by his large personality. With a temper that rivaled Jane’s and the caring nature to match, he was almost like a miniature version of his mother. 

Jane greeted Anne with a hug, placing a quick kiss to the top of Mae’s head.

“Hello girls!” she beamed warmly, “Right on time, the little one here was getting antsy,”

Anne chuckled at that, easily imagining the little boy running around impatiently, waiting for his friend. 

“Well I’m on time,” she snarked. 

“For once,” Jane muttered under her breath. Anne gasped, clutching a hand to her chest dramatically.

“Me? Late? Never!”

Both children giggled at her theatrics. Wriggling in Anne’s arms, Mae reached a grabby hand towards Jane.

“Mama, lemme go! I wanna play!”

Anne laughed, placing a kiss to Mae’s cheek and setting her on the ground. Mae gave Jane a quick hug before running off with Ed. Watching them go, Jane sighed.

“Well I’d better go make sure no one dies. Tell Cathy I said hi, ‘k?”

“Sure. Love ya!” Anne called, making her way back to the car. 

--------------------------------

The house was silent when Anne returned, a sure sign that Cathy was still asleep. Grabbing a plate of pancakes and some coffee, Anne made her way over to find Cathy. Walking into their room, Anne couldn’t help the smile that made it’s way onto her lips as she regarded her slumbering wife.

Gentle sunlight illuminated her peaceful face, highlighting every groove and indent in her gingerbread brown face. Wild curls framed her face, sticking out in every direction; a testament to her tossing and turning the night before as her fever stricken body struggled to rest.

Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, Anne tucked a strand of hair behind her partner’s ear.

“Hey love, it’s time to wake up,” she whispered. Cathy’s face scrunched up slightly as her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning beautiful,” Anne soothed. Cathy yawned, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Morning,” she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Looking around at the assortment before her, she raised an eyebrow.

“Breakfast in bed? What’s the special occasion?” she teased. 

“You’re sick! Besides, am I not allowed to do something nice for my beautiful wife?” Anne exclaimed. Reaching out for her breakfast, Cathy gave Anne a grateful smile.

“Well, your beautiful wife appreciates it,” Cathy smiled, bumping her head against Anne’s shoulder playfully. Shifting so that she was sitting next to Cathy, Anne wrapped her arm around the former, resting her head on her shoulder. 

“How are you feeling?” Anne inquired. Cathy shrugged, swallowing the bit of pancake in her mouth.

“Honestly? Still pretty shit,”

Anne frowned, placing her hand on Cathy’s forehead. 

“You’re fever’s gone down, you probably just need to rest,” she offered. Cathy nodded wordlessly, laying her head Anne’s chest. Her breathing evened out in a manner of seconds, fork falling onto the bed with a dull Thump.

Carefully, Anne grabbed the plate and mug and placed them on the bedside table. Slowly, she maneuvered their bodies so that they were laying down on the bed, Cathy’s head resting in the crook of her neck.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of Cathy’s breathing, Anne felt her own eyelids grow heavy. She knew she had to go pick Liz and Mae up in a manner of hours, but for now, she’d simply rest her eyes for a moment. She felt Cathy shift slightly, wrapping her arms around Anne’s midsection tightly. The sunlight felt warm on her face, Anne noted as she pulled her blanket up around the two.

The house was quiet. Distantly, Anne heard birds chirping and dogs barking. She could imagine Liz, chatting with her friends excitedly about some tidbit of information they’d found fascinating. She could imagine Mae, building a tower with Ed, only to knock it down with a laugh, Jane fixing lunch behind them as she gazed at the children lovingly. Cathy lay in her arms, snoring lightly as she mumbled something or other in her sleep. It was perfect. 

She held her lover in her arms, and all Anne could think about was how much she loved this woman. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with her, to raise their children together and grow old together. And even after all these years, Anne couldn’t believe Cathy felt the same. She’d felt the same, as they sat in the park and said “I love you” for the first time. As they got married, as they adopted children, Cathy had been with her the whole time. It was peaceful, it was quiet, Anne remarked as she held Cathy close. Cathy had met Anne on a cool autumn night, standing in the corner alone at some party Thomas had convinced her to attend. And ever since then, it had been perfect.

[groovegalaxxxy5]

The Art School AU nobody asked for

I’ve had this idea for an emercury AU fic kicking around in my head for a while now, but I have so many other projects on my plate rn and nowhere near enough time or energy to write it. So instead I’m just gonna post all the deets in the hopes that one day I’ll be able to come back and actually do something with it.

Emercury Art School AU Summary:

“Emerald Sustrai may have managed to get into the dance program at one of the most prestigious art schools on Remnant, but she has one big issue – after just one year of study, she’s barely managing to stay afloat even with two part-time jobs and her grades have been suffering for it. Fortunately for her, her school offers extra credit to any students who are cast in the school’s yearly exhibition performance.  Unfortunately, this year’s production’s theme is “passion” and the only spot up for audition for sophomores in the dance program is for a couples’ dance performance based on said theme.   

Enter one Mercury Black—a fellow dance student with a reputation unsavory enough to overshadow his considerable talent, and quite possibly the last person on Remnant Emerald would ever want to work with…He also happens to literally be the only other person she can find to pair up with her for the show.  Somehow, improbably, the unlikely duo actually make a pretty good team once they finally start to work out their differences, but as they perfect their routine for the big audition, Emerald finds herself in a whole new predicament: She may have set out to steal the show, but if she’s not careful she might just end up getting her heart stolen in the process...”

So yeah…as you can see, the basic premise is that Em and Merc are classmates at this school for the arts, but both of them are having trouble earning passing marks in this one foundation course they both need to graduate—Emerald because she is completely on her own and has to work a lot to pay for her living expenses and studio fees and stuff even though she has a pretty decent scholarship, and Mercury because he keeps really odd hours and misses class quite a bit for unexplained reasons.  Noticing that she’s struggling even though she is a gifted dancer, one of Emerald’s teachers suggests that she try out for the big show that their school puts on every school year, since anyone who makes the cut receives a bunch of extra credit and each faculty also gives a grant to the students who they judge to have put on one of the top three best performances.  The problem is, there are only a limited number of spots up for audition for each graduating year of each concentration course due to time and resource restraints, and this year’s 2nd year dance spot happens to be billed as a couples’ performance.

Emerald hits up everybody she can think of, but they're all too busy or can't commit to the project for other reasons. Pretty much out of options at that point, she’s just about ready to give up when she has a chance encounter with a classmate, one Mercury Black, after school.  Through some sort of clerical error they managed to book the exact same practice studio for exactly the same time, and since they both really need the extra practice time and neither one is willing to back down, they end up sharing the room for a few hours.  When they do, Emerald is really surprised to find out that Mercury is actually a really talented dancer, she just never noticed before because even though they have some classes together he comes in very irregularly.  After a long, sleepless night contemplating doing something really, really ill-advised, she ends up approaching him at school the next day to propose that they team up and audition for the big show together since they appear to both be failing the same class and need the credit really bad, and to her surprise he agrees rather easily.

Thus, the two of them become reluctant accomplices. However, once they start working out the choreography together, they just can’t seem to see eye-to-eye on anything, which doesn’t bode very well for their performance considering that it’s supposed to embody the show’s theme. Emerald is more of a ballet dancer, while Mercury is more of a street dancer, having started out with breaking and had almost zero classical training before starting school.  After a while (with a lot of practice and a LOT of unsolicited intervention from their nosy friends) our two favorite mayhem children finally start to bond and find some common ground, and naturally, lighthearted romantic hijinks ensue and sparks fly between the unlikely duo as they struggle to cooperate and put together a passionate couples’ dance good enough to get into the final production.

The Supporting Cast:

Em’s peeps -- Cinder (in the class above, sort of her mentor and was the one who encouraged her to apply to school in the first place), Weiss (met in freshman year, in the same ballet, jazz and contemporary classes this year, snarking buddies), Blake (ended up in most of the same classes together this year), Coco (upperclassman in the design course, loves dressing Em in different outfits and often forces her to stand in as a house model for her when she needs to work late into the night to meet a deadline)

Merc’s peeps -- Sun (met in class in freshman year, breaking and sparring buddies), Neptune (met thru Sun, in pop class together this year), Scarlet (ditto), Blake (in a few classes together, waits tables at the same diner where he works), Yang (met at a stunt training camp the Summer of freshmen year, waits tables at the same restaurant, fellow gym rat and occasional sparring partner)

Salem -- Headmistress of the most prestigious arts school on Remnant; has a bitter love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with her ex

Oz -- The headmistress’ ex-husband who runs a very successful Circe du Soleil type show and recruits a lot of his performers from her graduating classes

Glinda -- Chair of the dance department; Contemporary and ballroom dance instructor; is so so weary of her faculty’s incessant bickering

Winter -- Ballet instructor; came up in a rigid traditional Atlesian ballet school and generally looks down on all the other dancing disciplines and their instructors (”What they do can BARELY be described as dancing”); wishes the dance department were as disciplined as the music department

Qrow -- Jazz and tap dance instructor; doesn’t think that what his sister does really counts as actual dancing; jazz hands, rain hands and double dream hands and he’s dead serious about em

Raven -- Acrobatic and contortion instructor; thinks jazz hands look really stupid, just like Qrow and his corny, goofy ass dancing; was actually trained extensively in traditional Mistralian Highlands step dancing from childhood alongside her brother and used to perform internationally before switching disciplines

Tai Yang -- Hip-hop and pop dance instructor; specializes in pop and lock; Raven's ex; constantly catching strays from Qrow and Raven’s feud; just happy to still have a job tbh

Arthur & Tyrian -- Co-chairs of the theater department; Arthur teaches classical acting and Tyrian teaches method acting and they both think the other doesn’t teach “real acting”; somehow their department is actually really popular and all the students love the yearly musical theater production, which is the only time they ever seem to agree on anything

Hazel -- Long-suffering theater production instructor; works really hard to keep things running smoothly in the background despite the department heads' antics; hates the headmistress’s ex with a burning passion

Ironwood -- Chair of the music department; runs his department like a well-oiled machine and has put the fear of god into all his students; has won the national marching band championships seven years running

All the other students are in various departments at their school—e.g. Ruby plays the sax, Yang and Jaune are both acting majors, Oscar plays the cello, Nora and Ren play the tuba and the erhu respectively, Pyrrha is a triple threat etc.

A bunch of random plot points:

-Merc, Em and their friends are all in the same foundation classes together and the two of them start off vaguely aware of one another mostly owing to the fact that all their friends are friends, but they don’t really know each other (…or DO they??? *DUN DUNNN DUNNNNN*)

-Most of the faculty at their school can’t stand each other and the different departments have been engaged in bitter rivalries for years but somehow they all work really well together because at the end of the day they’re all professionals who are good at their jobs

-All of their friends are convinced that they’re secretly dating or hooking up at the very least, because they suddenly start hanging around each other a lot, holing up in the practice studio together until all hours of the night and showing up school at the same time the next morning and are constantly snipping at each other whenever they interact.  Merc’s squad is actually v supportive and (against his wishes) are doing their very best to try and help their boy lay down the mac (Sun: “Hey Merc! Thanks for letting me drive the convertible last weekend!😉👍”) , even though they all generally acknowledge that he’s way out of his league and is headed down the path to utter destruction. Meanwhile, Em’s friends are pretty appalled by her abysmally low standards (Weiss: “Emerald, you’re dating down....WAY down.🙁”) and think that shes going thru some kind of self-destructive phase or something.  They’re convinced she’s about to have her life absolutely ruined by that one smirky fuccboi type from their grade who has super sus habits and “reeks of criminality” (also Weiss).

-Almost everybody including most of his friends are convinced that Mercury is doing something really, really shady for cash on the low because he keeps super odd hours, misses class a lot and is always showing up with all these bizarre, unexplained injuries.  In reality, Em finds out that it’s all because he’s been training as a stunt-man outside of school and works a lot of weird hours at his part-time job so that he can pay off his prosthetics, finance his extra courses and pay for his own living expenses, etc. Although he actually was involved in some serious criminal activity in the past, he’s been trying his best to stay on the straight and narrow ever since he finally cut ties with his scumbag dad, and now just works a lot of nights and weekends as a short order cook at the local greasy spoon.

-Once Mercury realizes that Emerald is like...constantly on the brink of starvation because she’s a destitute vagabond baby but has too much pride to ask for help, he starts subtly bringing her leftovers from work, which she grudgingly accepts (because he owes her for putting him onto the whole extra credit thing, so it’s not really charity...definitely NOT because she is extremely susceptible to offerings of food and her partner also happens to be a surprisingly good cook).  

-Cinder is in the year above them and has known Emerald since they were in the foster system together as kids. She’s a prodigy at ballet and also a very accomplished acrobat and contortionist (as in, like, can easily shoot an arrow into a bullseye with just her feet while her legs are bent backwards all the way over the top of her head and stuff).  At some point she sits in on one of Em and Merc’s rehearsal sessions and ends up dragging the hell out of them both for being way too stiff and exhibiting almost zero chemistry despite the “obnoxiously obvious sexual tension” between them.  She basically ends up barking directions at them until they alter their choreo a bunch and finally start to look somewhat like an actual couple ("For fuck's sake... Lift her like she's the most precious thing you've ever laid eyes on and you're about to make sweet love to her, you idiot, not like she's a frigging sack of potatoes you're bringing home to peel!!!" "This man is supposed to be the moon to your stars...if you don't loosen up and melt into his arms like your soul is on fire, I will flip ALL this shit over and burn this wretched studio to the ground with both of you trapped inside!!!" ), after which things gradually start to get all awkward and messy between them because they start thinking about one another differently.  

-They get into a bunch of compromising situations by virtue of the fact theatre and dance people are just kinda naked  a lot and don’t care.  At various points in the story their friends will walk in on the two of them in some sort of really eyebrow raising situation, get the complete wrong idea  and run away, which in turn makes the two of them start to feel awkward as hell toward each other.

-Coco forces them to wear matching outfits that she made just for their performance.

-Their act ends up being this spicy contemporary couples’ dance that incorporates a lot of elements of acrobatic dance, breaking and ballet, essentially blending together both of their unique dance backgrounds.

 This story idea has absolutely nothing to do with canon and Remnant is a lot like modern-day Earth with some exceptions, so there are no semblances etc. There’s no antagonist; in fact everyone around them is generally supportive and wants them to succeed--the main conflict comes from Emerald and Mercury only having three brain cells between them and not being used to caring about someone else in a lovey-dovey sort of way. I got the idea when I was watching dance videos online and started remembering all those cheesy dance-themed teen movies from the 90’s and early 2000’s.  It’s pretty much just a wholesome little meet-cute/will-they-won’t-they type school romance in that same vein, where Em and Merc are forced to team up out of necessity, start to fall for each other and then have to deal with all the awkwardness that ensues...all with a bunch of help from their extremely eccentric, meddling-ass friends who are all convinced that the two of them are either already dating or about to be and are trying to keep them both from getting their hearts broken lol

 Whew! Guess that’s about it for now...I’d like to try and flesh this one out more and maybe even publish it as a legit fic one day, but first I’ve gotta get back to work on *signal lost*

[nerv0usm3chanic]

CORRUPTION

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

--

((NOTE - This is an introduction to a new PERMANENT AU feature exclusive to nerv0usm3chanic. Please see further, generalized information regarding this AU here: X

Be advised that each of these chapters are VERY LONG. The full content will be tucked under a read more after a brief introduction segment.

DO NOT REBLOG.))

--

Vivi frowned as she spotted Arthur perusing the shelves of Tome Tomb. He wasn’t often in here except when meeting up with Vivi for hanging out later...which, now that she thought about it, hadn’t happened in quite some time. The blue-haired woman made a mental note to invite Arthur and Lewis over for one of their terrible movie nights before heading over to talk to the blond.

“Hey Artie!” The blond jumped at her sudden greeting, his hand over his now racing heart as it registered who it was that spoke to him. “Oh jeeze! I’m sorry for spooking you, Arthur.” She couldn’t help but let a small giggle.

“N-no worries, I’m fine.” Arthur assured her, taking a deep breath, “I um...I was just looking up some things here.” He gestured to the shelf, a series of books on it and many of which hopefully containing his desired topic. Vivi peered over, tilting her head and quirking an eyebrow.

“These are all about ghosts and magic...ooh! Did you hear a rumor about something spooky?” She was getting excited now, “Are you researching for a case, Artie?” Her eyes sparked with her excitement. With a nervous swallow, Arthur nodded slightly, scratching at the back of his head.

“Uh, y-yeah, you caught me.” He coughed, “I heard some rumors of ghosts causing some magical energy fluxes and-”

“Ooh! So exciting! I’ll have to get with you on this later after work!” Vivi clasped her hands around his and practically bounced in place. Just as suddenly, she bounded away to continue her workday and Arthur sighed. Thankfully, he got away without further questions, but he hated the idea of having to explain exactly why he was researching this topic. He’d have to take a rain check if she were to invite him anywhere.

--

“Is this everything?” The shopkeeper asked in a calm, neutral drawl. Arthur nodded silently, drumming his fingers - both the metallic and flesh and bone - on the counter as Duet collected the first of the three books. A blightly-colored eyebrow quirks and the mysterious person looked at Arthur meaningfully. “Are you sure?”

“U-uhm...I think so?” Arthur quailed, glancing sideways as he saw Vivi pass by with a cart of books to be out away. With worrying amber eyes, Arthur begged Duet to stay quiet about his purchases. They too glanced at Vivi before setting the book down with a soft sigh and giving Arthur a serious look.

“Something is off about you, Kingsmen. And I don’t like it.” They commented in a hushed tone, sure to keep their conversation between Arthur and them alone. Their implication was deeply ominous and Arthur shrank at the connotations. Duet relaxed slightly, easing their dark tone and casually checking out the books Arthur had selected as if nothing had been said. After a moment, Duet looked to the blond again.

“You are...researching...yes?” They offered a much more sensitive tone, prompting Arthur to nod and sigh in some relief. “Perhaps there is someone...I can recommend to you.” And with another subtle gesture, Arthur saw a flash of gold from Duet’s sleeve. He blinked as the shopkeeper slipped the thing in between random pages in one of the larger books.

“Was that a...a card?” Arthur asked as Duet finished ringing up the books. They didn’t answer, just placed the books into a plastic bag and looked to Arthur again.

“That will be $43.23.” Duet’s flat expression indicated they had no interest in continuing. Them making a directed glance over Arthur’s shoulder was enough to say why: Vivi was nearby. Arthur nodded, pulling out his wallet and retrieving the necessary funds.

“Thank you.” Arthur nodded, passing a $50 bill and taking his bag of books. He had no need for the small amount of change, especially if Duet’s lead pointed him in the right direction.

--

“This is it?” Arthur asked himself later that evening, looking at the gilded card and with the large book in his lap. There wasn’t anything even written on the card, just a golden embossed moon and beneath it, the words ‘qui petit auxilium’. Arthur didn’t know what it meant and he frowned angrily as he flung the card off to the side. He pouted further when the card spun gracefully and made a smooth landing on his nightstand. “How am I supposed to get help with this stupid spirit if I can’t get a straight answer?”

‘I can hear you, boy.’ The spirit snarled in his head.

“I know you can.” Arthur growled back, turning to the book for help and turning pages to look at the index. The blond proceeded to read from a selected section, investigating all he could from what little there actually was on ghosts and their affects on people.

Pages upon pages on skeptical theory, a chapter on the effects of those under possession - or assumed so - and a handful of paragraphs on magical side effects. None of which described lightning or electricity. There was a small section on hearing the voice of the spirit that plagued, though it was played down shortly after with most victims actually being mentally-ill. Arthur grew frustrated. Hearing that voice constantly tease and taunt him, a spirit that made electricity fly from his hands at the most inconvenient times, and the constant strain and worry...

With an exhausted sigh, Arthur shut the book, using the attached ribbon as a bookmark. He set the book on his nightstand and flopped onto his mattress...before looking to the card once again. Metal fingers reached out, taking the slip of thick paper and turning it carefully. The moon glinted bright in the lamplight as it turned and again the words showed bright.

“Qui petit auxilium...I wonder what that means?” Arthur whispered, weariness beginning to weigh on his eyelids. ‘I just...I just wish I could find something...someone to help me.’ With that thought, the blond curled onto his side, ignoring the devious hums of the other voice in his skull.

--

Despite his doubts, Arthur continued his research, both through the books he purchased and online. He even created a new throwaway Reddit account to search for advice and ideas on how to deal with things. Most if it was hooey and there were a lot of folks going to him to sell their ‘holistic’ home remedies for his ‘condition’. With a sigh, Arthur closed his laptop and rubbed at his tired eyes, bags growing darker each day.

He was the definition of exhausted. By this point it had been more than a year since his possession and he still hadn’t gotten used to the meddling voice in his head or the electrical surges that liked to flow around his metal arm. Arthur scowled at the appendage.

“You were supposed to help me feel normal again.” The mechanic growled at the inanimate arm as it laid peacefully beside his computer.

‘Normal was never an option after you and your friends stepped into my trap.’ The blond ground his teeth a moment before aggressively pushing back from his desk. He needed a walk. Arthur said as much when Lucan asked where he was going.

“Awrigh’ lad...bu’ Ah got dinner cookin’ righ’ now. If ye want it warm an’ fresh, be back in a half hour, okay?” Lucan asked. Arthur gave a tired grunt of ascent and loudly closed the apartment door behind him. The dark-haired Kingsmen looked to his father in concern. Arthur was rarely this moody, even in his teenage rebellious phase and it worried his family.

--

There was a flash of gold in the bright moonlight as Arhur played with the strange card over and around his fingers. The nights were chill and even walks at 6:30 pm were lit by streetlamps and moonbeams. Arthur liked going for walks at night. Fewer people to run into, to talk to about how poorly and pale he was getting, to look at his arm and feel sorry for him. Amber eyes narrowed at the thought.

He’d seen the pitying looks all three of his friends gave him...and he understood why, but it hurt to see them think anything poorly of him because of his still-new disability. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to have never gone into that cave. He wanted Vivi and Lewis to have listened to him and his bad feelings. He wanted to...to...he sighed in defeat, looking to the card Duet had given him as he walked past a series of old houses in the nicer neighborhood on the outskirts of Tempo.

Research led to only dead ends...to all but one question he had.

“Qui petit auxilium...help to those who ask for it.” A nice sentiment...but ultimately useless if he didn’t know who to ask for help. His only clue was the golden moon that seemed to glow full under the light of the pale white moon above his head. Funny...they both seemed to match at this phase. Arthur hummed idly as he thought about it and looked up.

“A shooting star...” He murmured, coming to a stop in front of another old pseudo-Victorian-style house, the walls covered in ivy and all of the windows dark with some boarded up and others curtained off. He watched the meteorite sail in a surprisingly long trail across the sky. Before it vanished, he closed his eyes and sighed out softly:

“I wish I could find answers...I need help. Who do I go to?” He opened his eyes to see the meteorite had gone. “...please?” For once...the spirit in his head was silent. Arthur felt its presence, but heard nothing. That in itself was remarkable. On another outlet of breath and a soft nod, Arthur turned his head from the sky and turned to make his way back home...when he heard a loud creaking from his right.

Startled, Arthur whipped his head towards the previously-abandoned house. The door was opened and a bright light poured forth, golden and warm and beckoning. The blond didn’t even notice the soft pulse of magic from the card in his hand as he cautiously made his way through the front gate and approached the front porch. He didn’t even notice that the windows remained dark and empty of all life.

The entity in his mind was suspiciously quiet as he set foot on the creaky wood and carefully approached the door.

“Hello? Hello, is anyone home?” Arthur called out, hopeful to gain the homeowner’s attention as he poked his head inside. “I think your door lock may be...broken...” Words trailed off as Arthur took in the sight before him: a comfortable entryway complete with classically ornate wallpaper and decorations given gold trim to compliment their warm tones. He stepped further inside, fascinated to explore more.

Arthur came across a sitting room with the back of a large wooden chair facing him, a fire dancing merrily in its hearth. He sucked in a cautious breath when he noticed a dark-skinned elbow resting on one of the arms and a draping golden cloth pooling at the front of the chair.

“A-ah um...ex-excuse me for intruding...” Arthur started, pausing to swallow nervously. “I-I um...I actually was walking by and your d-door seemed to creak open on it’s own. I’m...I’m not sure, but I think your lock may be broken. I just wanted to let you know, just so you’re not surprised...by intruders...like me.” Oh, he could have done this so much better. Waiting at the front door and knocking would have been a much nicer way to alert the homeowner of this issue.

“I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t worry. I will be just fine.” There was a flutter of nerves in Arthur at the low, feminine tone. Internally, he was both intrigued and frightened by the energy he could feel exuding from around the woman in the chair. Then suddenly he was more frightened when - in the corner of his periphery - he saw the door lazily creak shut and click securely in place.

“Come around so I may see you.” A soft request that rang as a command through Arthur’s rattled skull as she raised one hand to beckon him forward. He nodded despite the fact that she couldn’t see it and carefully made his way around the armchair before finally seeing the commanding woman who owned this obviously magical home.

She was quite the opposite of who he expected to be living in a decrepit-looking house. Shimmering golden locks were tied back neatly, held back by a pearly comb while the rest spilled gracefully around and over her mostly bare shoulders. Arthur blinked at the shimmery golden dress she wore, something he estimated to be worth five or more months of his earnings at Kingsmen Mechanics and she wore it like a second skin with how confident and relaxed she was in her seat. His eyes briefly assessed her arms - obviously strong with muscle, but still lithe and feminine with their bearer’s grace - before he met her gaze.

Arthur swallowed at the bright glow that emanated from her eyes. A firm gaze that studied him with obvious wary scrutiny and a touch of irritation that carried to the slight downturn of the corner of her dark and light contrasting lips...Arthur averted his eyes to her shoulder as the homeowner assessed the mechanic.

“You asked for help...for a problem you cannot resolve by typical means.” A statement, not a question, but Arthur nodded anyway. There was a beat and then the woman let out a soft breath, so soft that Arthur was sure a mouse couldn’t have been quieter. “You wouldn’t be inside this building if you weren’t in genuine need. Take a seat and tell me what plagues you.” Arthur looked to the matching armchair beside hers as she gestured her other hand towards it.

“Th-thank you...” Arthur says gently, nodding to the woman and taking his seat. Once comfortable, Arthur begins to spin his tale.

That was the night he met Luna, the Witch of Secrets...

--

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4

[kissjane]

DELAYED DATE / Short(ish) fic

#12 from this prompt list.

TW / Mental illness, mention of suicide (but no actual attempt)

We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town

“Have you guys heard?”

Basile came running towards them, ten minutes late for the gang’s weekly pizza night. As soon as he was near enough, he came to a skidding halt, bent double, his hands on his knees, his face red and ruddy, taking in gulps of oxygen while he tried to tell them his big news.

“Daphn�� told me, she heard from Imane, who had it from Sofiane, so that must mean it’s true, because obviously Sofiane would not just make something like that up, would he? Anyway, so Daphné heard it this morning when the girls went all shopping together, and she came over to my place to tell me just as I was about to leave, so that’s why I’m late, sorry about that, guys, have you ordered yet? You remembered to leave off the mushrooms on mine, right? Anyway, so what do you think about it, huh?”

He looked around expectantly.

“Baz, my man,” Arthur said, shaking his head fondly but exasperatedly, “why don’t you sit down first, and then tell us this piece of bombshell gossip Daphné thought was more important than pizza with your friends.”

Basile did as suggested, and then looked around again with aplomb, eager to share his news.

“Eliott is back in town!”

Silence fell, as Yann and Arthur glanced over at Lucas.

“Eliott Demaury?”, Yann asked after a long beat.

“Of course, Eliott Demaury, do we know any other Eliotts?”

Basile was so extraordinarily proud of surprising his friends with his announcement that he completely missed how Lucas suddenly had gone pale.

“We should text him, ask him if he wants to hang out again, like before!”

Lucas noticed how Yann elbowed Basile in the arm while Arthur frantically shook his head, and it made him feel bad. If the boys wanted to hang out with Eliott again, they should be able to. But Yann knew, and Arthur could probably guess, that Lucas would very much prefer not to. But whether Basile tried to set something up or not, chances were Lucas would run into Eliott at some point anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” he therefore said. Better to meet him with Yann there for emotional support, than running into him alone and when he was least expecting it. This way, he could prepare.

But not enough, it turned out, when Basile immediately took out his phone, and before anyone realized what was going on, announced gleefully, “That’s arranged! He’s coming over.”

Lucas choked on his own saliva, and a worried look appeared in Yann’s eyes, but the damage was done, and when a familiar figure walked up a few minutes later, Lucas took a big gulp of air and hoped for the best.

“Hi,” a hesitant voice came, and Lucas had to close his eyes against the memories crashing over him.

Eliott calling him late at night, his voice warm with sleep.

Eliott whispering nonsensical words in Lucas’ hair, against Lucas’ skin.

Eliott breathing out Lucas’ name into Lucas’ mouth, his lips taking on the shapes with Eliott’s.

“Hey,” he crooked, willing himself to act normally, to just greet him like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

And why wouldn’t he? Of course, he had had the biggest crush on Eliott for most of the time they’d known each other, and Eliott had definitely given him the impression it had been reciprocated, until he had just disappeared – but nobody needed to know that.

Only Yann knew the full story – he had confronted Lucas one night, a few weeks after Eliott had left. Lucas had barely left his room for days, not speaking, eating only because Manon forced him. When he finally came back to school, he had been silent, withdrawn, and pale, and he snapped at the boys a couple of times for no reason. And then Yann had shown up, demanding answers, and Lucas had broken down and cried his heart out, telling his best friend about his whirlwind romance with Eliott, and the bitter taste it had left when Eliott had just packed up and left, not answering Lucas’ attempts at communication.

He would have sworn, only this morning, that he was definitely over Eliott Demaury, after three years – although maybe his glaring lack of any boyfriends in that time might suggest otherwise. Oh, sure, he’d kissed the occasional guy here and there, but nothing serious. And now, seeing Eliott, watching his grey eyes shine and his hands gesture wildly, he was forced to admit that the reason nothing ever went further was that he was the farthest thing away from being over him.

Basile was already jumping around Eliott like a young puppy, bouncing up and down, asking him how he was, what was going on, whether he was back for good, where he had been, why he had moved without notifying any of them – all in rapid-fire, without giving the older boy a chance to reply.

Finally, Eliott spoke up.

“It’s not the happiest story, but if you guys are up for it, I would like to tell you all.”

He stared straight at Lucas, and Lucas needed to turn his head, afraid of falling for Eliott all over at the slightest opportunity. He steeled himself not to believe any of his beautiful words this time, not to walk into his trap again.

But Yann nodded solemnly, and Eliott gangly sat down, folding his long limbs and hunching his shoulders.

“So, uh, I am bipolar. I don’t know if you guys know, but it’s a mental disorder…”

A silence fell. They all knew what that meant. Lucas had finally told the gang about his mom’s admission into the mental ward in their last year, and Basile had told them about his mom’s mental illness.

“We know,” Arthur said. “That sucks.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, it does. So we didn’t know at the time, but a lot of the stuff I did at my old school was due to episodes. It’s also why I failed my bac and got expelled from my other school and came to your high school. But like I said, nobody knew at the time and so, one day, I went into a manic stage and I tried to jump off a rooftop because I thought I could fly. A police agent managed to talk into me enough to get me down safely, and I got brought into the station. They called my parents, and they thought I had tried to commit suicide – which wasn’t true. I had everything to live for, and I wouldn’t want to give up –”

He looked at Lucas again. So did Yann. Both sets of eyes were trying to gauge what Lucas was thinking, feeling, but Lucas was numb.

“Anyway. They had me admitted into a psych ward near Le Havre, where they had moved to a few months earlier, that same night. I couldn’t keep my phone or anything, I couldn’t contact anybody, I –”

Again, his eyes found Lucas, pleading.

“I wanted to call you so badly, I swear, but they wouldn’t let me, and then when they finally gave me my phone back, it was weeks later, after they had diagnosed me, and I just – I thought you would be better off without me. Or that you would have forgotten me, or had moved on, and so I just… didn’t.”

Lucas saw Eliott’s eyes shine with something different now, as if he was blinking back tears. He wasn’t sure his own eyes looked any better.

It remained silent for a while. The boys looked from one to the other, unsure what was going on.

“So why are you back now, then?”, Yann asked, when nobody else made a move.

“The simple reason is that I finally got accepted into the Arts program at the University of Paris,” he answered, but his eyes still never left Lucas.

Yann nudged him with his elbow, willing him to ask the obvious reason, but Lucas was still too much in shock to do so.

In the end, it was Arthur who finally broke the heavy tension.

“And the complicated reason?”

Eliott took a deep breath.

“I had to leave something behind I never wanted to leave. Or someone, rather. Someone who I hadn’t even known all that long, but who meant everything to me. Someone who I missed every goddamn day I was out there. Who I have written thousands of texts to, and deleted them all, who I wanted to call millions of times, but never did. Someone I made so many drawings for over the years I could barely get them all to Paris with me – I just hope he gives me a chance to show them to him one day.”

“Sound like someone pretty important,” Yann said, when Eliott’s voice broke.

“The most important person I ever met,” Eliott agreed. “I loved him then, and I hate the fact that I never got to tell him, so I just hope I get to tell him now.”

“Do you – still?”, Lucas whispered. “Love him?”

Eliott nodded. “I never stopped. Please, Lucas,” he said, suddenly giving up all the pretense, beseeching him, “I swear I never meant to hurt you, it all happened so fast, and I know I am years too late, and you probably have somebody else by now, I just – I need you to believe me. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you walking the hallway at school, and I never stopped.”

Basile gasped.

“You are in love with Lucas? Our Lucas?”

“Oh, come on, Baz,” Arthur said as he stood up. “Let’s go get pizza. You coming, Yann?”

And as Basile still protested indignantly – “But I didn’t know! Lucas never said anything!” – Arthur and Yann dragged him along, the latter winking over his shoulder at Lucas.

As Basile’s voice finally died down, Lucas lifted his eyes to Eliott’s, and then dropped them to his mouth almost immediately.

“Lucas?”, Eliott said tentatively, gingerly reaching out a hand to Lucas’ shoulder.

“You drew for me?”

He didn’t know why he came up with that, after everything Eliott had said, but he was rewarded when Eliott smiled.

“Hundreds of times. Hundreds of happy hedgehogs and raccoons.”

Lucas smiled.

“Do you… I mean, maybe… If you wanted… You could come with me and I could show them to you?”

Eliott’s tone was hopeful, but cautious, and suddenly Lucas didn’t want to waste another minute. He’d pined over Eliott for years, and here he was. Nobody could predict the future, but tonight, he wasn’t going to let Eliott slip away.

“Only if I can stay the night,” he said, softly, and he laughed as Eliott’s eyes went wide and his breath hitched.

“I can’t wait until we get there to kiss you,” Eliott replied just as softly, when he was sufficiently recovered.

“Please don’t.”

And when their lips found each other again after all those years, they both knew it was going to take a while to get to the drawings – but neither of them overly minded.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 3

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 3: Amelia questions the Shelbys actions as they establish themselves as bookies. 

March 1909

             Polly said that Amelia wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be joining the family for dinner. The only one who seemed hung up on this fact was Tommy. The others were happy to go about eating and chatting about their day. As John had predicted, Ada seemed to forget what she was crying about that morning. She was all too excited to tell everyone that she had been the best at double-dutch in the schoolyard. Even better than that no-good-pigtailed-bratty-stuck-up-snob Ingrid.

            Tommy wasn’t too interested in the mundane details of his family’s life. His mind was elsewhere, so he finished dinner quickly and headed upstairs.

            When Amelia arrived, Polly had to rearrange the Shelbys to make room. Tommy had to camp out on the couch a bit longer than he would’ve liked because none of his siblings could agree to any proposed arrangement. John and Ada didn’t want to bunk together. Arthur argued he was the oldest and should have his own room. And none of them wanted to be placed with Finn. Finally, Polly put her foot down. Tommy and John would share a room and that was that.

            But when Tommy passed what once was his room, the door was open and it was empty. He frowned and continued down the cramped hall. The bathroom door was closed and he could hear retching from inside. He lightly knocked on the door. “Mel? Alright?”

            The young woman cleared her throat and stood up from her spot kneeling at the toilet. She rinsed her mouth out in the washbasin and opened the door. “I’m okay.”

            “Sounded like you were getting sick.”

            “It’s normal with the baby.” She assured him; a bit embarrassed that he’d heard her.

            “Oh.” He nodded and could remember times when his mother was ill with his siblings. But he hadn’t thought much of it. She had always put on a brave face for her kids. “Pol said you weren’t feeling well.”

            “Long day, I guess.” She moved past him and went back to the bedroom.

            Tommy followed even if she didn’t really invite him to. He leaned up against the doorframe. “Anything you want to talk about or I could fuck off ‘n leave you be.”

            She laughed softly and waved him into the room. “Close the door, would you?”

            He obliged, going to sit on a chest across from the bed, by the nearly empty desk. Even if it was his room, he didn’t want to invade her privacy.

            Amelia sat down on the bed and leaned down to remove her stockings. She felt so sluggish and weary but couldn’t tell if it really was just because of her busy day or because her mind was a factory of worries. She tossed the stockings toward the hamper and began to unpin her hair.

            “What’s on your mind? You look-concerned.”

            “Do you think that not having your father around really…well, I guess that’s a stupid fucking question. I just…” She groaned when she couldn’t find the words to voice her distress. She realized she wouldn’t get anywhere if she was asking rhetorical questions in some roundabout way. “Do you think that my child will hate me because they won’t know their father? Honestly, be honest.”

            Tommy was surprised. He expected she would go to Polly with such a problem. True, they were longtime friends but what did he know about children and parenthood? “I don’t think your child would hate you for anything? You’ll be a great mother, Mel, you know that.”

            Amelia tipped her head up to the ceiling. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she didn’t want them to fall. “I want you to be honest with me, Tom, not to say nice things. We both know nothing in this fucking world is nice.”

            “Hey, now. Look at me. Amelia, look at me.”

            She did so, reluctantly. A tear slipped down her cheek as she met his blue eyes.

            “Yeah, so the world’s a pile of shit. But there are nice things if there weren’t then what would be the point of living, aye?” He pointed out. “I don’t know what your child will say ‘bout anything. But I know that they’ll think the world of you because you did everything for them. That’s something, right?”

            She shook her head. Everything in her wanted to stay miserable. She wanted to torture herself because she felt she deserved it. All of her actions had led her to that moment. She deserved what she got. But Tommy’s words coaxed her gently to a nicer place. A place where there was hope. There was the possibility that she could succeed in raising her child.

            “I’ll say it again but you’ve got a family here. We’re gonna help you out. And-and if I need to step in as some sorta father figure than I will.” He straightened up a bit as he finished. Suddenly determined to take on the challenge he’d thrust upon himself.

            “Tom…”

            “I’m serious.” He reiterated with a half-smile. “I mean, I may not be any good at it, but I’ll try. I said I’d take care of you and I intend on doing that. I’m not some good for nothing like-” He purposefully didn’t finish his thought. It didn’t need to be finished; they both knew they were talking about Arthur Sr. Tommy strove to be the exact opposite of his father. He wouldn’t beat his children, wouldn’t drink their money away, would provide for them, would make sure dinner was always on the table, would give them a sense of safety and love. He could give that to Amelia’s child, they both deserved to be treated well. Why shouldn’t Tommy be the one to do so?

            “I can’t ask you to do that.” Amelia looked hesitant. Would it be nice to have a strong male figure in her child’s life? Of course. She worried what would happen without one. But to put that responsibility on someone else her age? They were both still so young.

            “You don’t have to ask.” He shrugged and stood up. “Are you feeling a bit better? I could see if they spared you any leftovers downstairs.” He offered as if it were the first thing he could do to prove he was fit to help her out.

            She smiled. “Maybe a bit of bread.”  

            “Alright, just be a mo’.”

May 1909

          After his talk with Amelia, Tommy was more intent on setting up the betting shop as soon as they could. The empty place offered so many possibilities in his eyes. Possibilities that could lift him and his family out of poverty. Both he and Arthur knew it would be an uphill battle. There were already plenty of betting shops tucked away in the dark corners of Birmingham and elsewhere. Using fronts as laundry, pubs, or even butchers. Beyond that, there were men who controlled the tracks. They fixed races to their heart’s delight and didn’t take kindly to others who tried to do the same. Without explicit permission, of course. Their bookies were violent and no one in their right mind would go after them. Maybe that’s why everyone thought Arthur and Tommy were mad.

            And perhaps they were, but that didn’t stop them from beginning to take bets out of the shop attached to the flat.

            Polly wanted to be upset that her nephews were bringing trouble so close to their home. But she couldn’t deny the income that they were starting to bring in. It wasn’t much at first, but it was something. Something that could be counted on for groceries or unexpected expenses. And since Tommy and Arthur had stopped attending school around thirteen, they made mistakes with the odds. So, Polly felt she could step in and mind the books better than they could. She never claimed to be a saint.

            Being a charming man meant Tommy could count on a lot of people joining his little setup. People he’d known for years and could trust. Danny Owens was a good friend with a good heart, Freddie Thorne knew him from Greta’s meetings. Jeremiah attended church with Polly but he wasn’t shy of a little criminal behavior to survive. There were others, but there was a hierarchy of trust that Tommy took very seriously. Family always came first.

            But with the betting shop came trouble. Other bookies weren’t so keen that the Shelbys were starting to dip their toes in the business. There was already enough competition in Birmingham alone. So, trouble started to brew.

            It started with just some harassment. A few threats and taunts. The Birmingham Boys apparently weren’t going to chalk the Shelbys up to just some amateurs. Even if there was a whiff of a potential threat, they learned to step in and snuff out the problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            That’s why, a few months after the betting shop was established, Tommy was jumped by five men. Luckily, they hadn’t roughed him up too badly. But he did look to be in bad shape when he staggered into the flat. He was limping and held a blood-soaked handkerchief to his nose

            “Tom!” Amelia gasped in horror when he came inside and ran into her at the base of the stairs. Six months pregnant, Polly had warned her to be a bit more cautious when it came to surprises and overexerting herself. But of course, she couldn’t be prepared for everything Tommy decided to get into.

            “S’alright, s’alright.” He grunted and made his way into the kitchen. He was certain one of his ribs was broken and his nose might have been too. It hadn’t exactly been a fair fight. He was taken completely by surprise as five of the Birmingham Boys popped out around a dark corner and immediately pummeled him to the ground. Once the initial blow wore off, Tommy tried to fight back but there wasn’t much use. Had Arthur been there, maybe they would’ve had a chance. But alone, he was knocked to the ground and had his ribs kicked in as the older men shouted slurs at him.

            “What happened?” She followed him, still in shock.

            “Got attacked.” He answered through the cloth over his nose and mouth. He went to the water pump and tried to get it going but the pain in his side was too much. He winced in pain and stifled a yelp.

            Amelia quickly dragged a chair over to the pump and made him sit. She filled up the basin with a bit of water and found a dishcloth to use. “Can I see?”

            Tommy removed the bloodied handkerchief. The blood seemed to have ebbed by the time he limped home.

            She carefully began to wipe the blood away from his face. “What else hurts?” She asked. They could talk about what happened when she was sure he was okay.

            “Me ribs.” He rested a hand over the painful spot.

            “Alright, well, let me clean you up and I can have a look.”

            Tommy took a few deep breaths. His heart was still racing and of course he was still pissed off that he’d been bested. Of course, he could take some solace that he was severely outnumbered and at a disadvantage. Still, it bruised his ego.

            Amelia tried to lighten the mood a bit. “You looked like this after you beat up Ben Hearn because he kissed me.”

            It drew a smile from him as he remembered the event from when they were around ten-years-old. Tommy was heartbroken when he heard around school that Ben had kissed his best friend and secret crush. But when he got word that Amelia hadn’t wanted to kiss Ben in the first place, Tommy decided to get retribution. Ben had gotten a lucky punch and made Tommy’s nose bleed. But that only angered him more to the point where Arthur had to pull his younger brother off the other boy because it looked like Tommy had murder in his eyes.  

            “You knocked out his tooth.”

            Tommy shook his head. “I knocked out two of his teeth.” He corrected with a familiar smirk. “And he deserved it.”

            Amelia sighed. “You were always getting into trouble back then. I thought maybe it would change when we got older but…” She rinsed the cloth and watched the red water trickle into the basin. “Maybe this betting shop idea is too dangerous.”

            “Mel-”

            “I know why you’re doing it, and I admire your initiative but you have to know what you might be risking. Money won’t do us any good if you’re injured or-”

            “It’s alright. You don’t have to worry.”

            She hung the wet cloth against the side of the basin and turned back toward him. “Tom, if you’re coming home like this then I think I have a reason to be worried!” She exclaimed.

            “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll sort it out.” He promised.

            Amelia wanted to scold him further but didn’t have the heart to. Besides, once Tommy set his mind to something, there wasn’t much hope for swaying him. Getting beat up never stopped him before, it likely wouldn��t stop him in the future. “You said your ribs hurt too?” She asked quietly.

            He nodded.

            “I can take a look at them but if they’re broken you ought to go see a doctor.” She washed any stray stains of blood off her hands and the washbasin.

            “Can’t afford a doctor right now.” Tommy stood up with a grunt and returned the chair to the table. He didn’t want Polly asking questions the next morning if she found the kitchen in disarray.

            “What do you mean? I thought Arthur said you had a good week. Said you had extra money.” Amelia dried her hands.

            “We did.”

            “So, where’s the money?” She questioned further.

            “I spent it.” Tommy grabbed a bottle of stout and uncorked it.

            “On what?”

            “You’ll see tomorrow, Mel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

            The next day was Saturday and Amelia had the day off. She watched over John and Ada to give Polly a well-needed break.

            The weather was unseasonably warm so she took the two kids outside to play so they wouldn’t be cooped up indoors. Amelia sat on the steps darning one of her stockings while Ada skipped rope and John played football in the street with other neighborhood kids.

            There was a small group of people next door waiting to place bets for the next day’s race. To the untrained eye, they looked fairly inconspicuous. Amelia hadn’t asked what might happen if the cops would catch wind of the operation. No one mentioned it, so she assumed they either had it handled or intentionally didn’t want to think about it. Still, Polly had instilled in everyone that if the police were to come around, no one knew a thing about betting shops.

            “S'cuse me miss, is Tommy Shelby ‘round?”

            Amelia looked up from her stockings and smiled. “Danny?”

            The young man’s face broke into a look of disbelief. “Mellie? Is that you?” He removed his hat and got closer. “Tom said you’d come back; wasn’t sure I’d recognize you.” Danny Owens had been a longtime friend of the Shelbys. As a boy he was much taller than anyone in class but was quite awkward and quiet. He was from a very poor family, just like the rest of them. He was painfully shy from growing up with an abusive father. But once Tommy and Arthur took him under their wing, he became a bit more confident. He wasn’t much for fighting but if it was necessary to protect his friends, he would step in. Though, most kids wouldn’t even try to fight him because of his size and broad shoulders.

            Yet, Amelia had always known him as someone with a gentle side. “It’s been a while.” She agreed. “How’s your family?”

            “They’re good. Yeah, everyone’s good.” Danny fidgeted with his hat as he spoke to her.  

            She could tell he didn’t really want to talk about his family which was all well and good. Amelia didn’t want to talk about hers either. “You were after Tommy?”

            “You haven’t seen him ‘round have you?”

            “He should be in the shop. You can go through the kitchen if you’d like.” Amelia scooted to the side so Danny could get by.         

            “Thanks, Mel. Glad you’re back.” He smiled and walked into the flat.

            As he passed, she noticed his knuckles were bruised and there was a bit of blood smeared over the top of his hand. It sent a shiver down her spine as she realized it wasn’t just Tommy getting into trouble. Everyone she once knew as a child was getting caught up in this violence. It might’ve been small skirmishes, akin to the ones they used to get into in the schoolyard. But Amelia reasonably knew that there were much larger stakes at risk. None of them labeled their actions as organized crime, but that’s what it was. Amelia had heard about large scale gangs in London who controlled a lot more than just horse races. They had control over pubs and other businesses, paid off the police, and there were rumors that they had influence over government too.

            She wasn’t sure that was Tommy’s end game but she also didn’t know if he had any control over that. Could someone remove themselves from the lifestyle? Or were they in it for life?

            With a sigh, she set her stockings aside and checked on John and Ada across the street. There were so many questions about the future that she couldn’t even try to begin to answer. All she could do was see what came of it.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            That same night, Amelia was in the kitchen making dinner while Ada rattled on about how she was going to go riding tomorrow and how Uncle Charlie might let her try to jump.

            The front door opened and Tommy poked his head inside. “Mel?” He called.

            “In the kitchen!” She replied.

            “Right, stay there, don’t come upstairs ‘til I say.”

            She raised an eyebrow but listened and continued peeling potatoes while Ada went on about horses.

            There were a few bumps against the wall and the staircase railing after the front door shut.

            “Fucking hell, this thing weighs a ton!” Arthur cursed.

            “Oi, be careful.” Tommy chided.

            “Be careful? It’s gonna damage me ‘fore I damage it!”

            A couple bangs and thumps and swears later, Tommy called Amelia upstairs.

            She and Ada went up and found him and Arthur in the bedroom. She looked confused until she saw the cot in the corner. Her mouth popped open in shock. “Tom?”

            He smiled a bit sheepishly. “For the baby.”

            “But I thought…I thought we would just move Finn’s in here.” She walked over to the new piece of furniture.

            “That thing’s older than any of us.” He shook his head. “Ought to toss it once Finn’s done with it.”

            Amelia ran a hand over the smooth oak wood. It was pristine, no nicks, or peeling varnish to be found. There were even intricate designs in the solid wood side and legs. She felt herself getting teary-eyed. She was didn’t even notice as Arthur herded Ada out of the room and back downstairs. “This is what you spent the money on?” She asked.

            Tommy nodded and shrugged. “The baby needs one, so why not?”

            She sniffled and went to hug him tightly. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

            He hugged her back, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Then adoration swept over him. He hadn’t realized how much he loved making Amelia happy. He was always fond of her, but seeing her smile was one of the best things to see, in his opinion. Maybe he was still too young to know what love was, but he had a hunch that what he was feeling was love.

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[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 15

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

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This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT DAY

GRIZZLIES WEST

Resting a hand on the journal’s worn pages, Dutch hesitated to turn to the next chapter as he thought back on the things he’d just read, wondering where everything went wrong.

Just this morning, he finally took the time to sit down and skim through some of Arthur’s private thoughts, only to end up discovering that they were much worse than he expected.

It was evident from the entries that Arthur lost his faith in their gang years ago. His words had no motivation behind them. No hope. No purpose.

They were all just so... bleak, and so full of finality.

It only made Dutch wonder if things were always meant to end this way. If, perhaps, Arthur was meant to turn on him from the start.

He knew the man wouldn’t be able to stick around forever. No one would. Not even Hosea. But the fact that he lost Arthur so quickly and so easily made Dutch question if there was ever a true relationship between them.

If there was, he would’ve given anything to get it back.

“Boss!” Micah’s voice suddenly barked from behind, leading Dutch to look up from the journal.

“What is it?” He asked, still somewhat preoccupied.

The other man sniffed, strolling in his direction through thick snow.

“...We got a problem, Dutch. It’s Bill.” Micah stepped next to him, letting out a disappointed sigh. “I think... he’s cut loose.”

Dutch snapped his head towards Micah in surprise, furrowing his brow.

“What? What do you mean he’s cut loose?”

Micah gestured towards the horizon, casually explaining his thought process.

“I saw some tracks leadin’ to the south from where I sent Bill to investigate last night. His horse is gone too. You ask me, I think he made a run for it. Probably decided to make his way back to New Austin. Try to survive on his own in the desert. He certainly talked about it a lot.”

“You sure it wasn’t somebody else’s tracks?”

The outlaw chuckled. “Who else could it have been? The Pinkertons? They’re mean bastards, I’ll give you that, but I reckon we’re the only ones crazy enough to actually come out here, Dutch. No... I’m pretty sure it was Bill.”

Dutch firmly shut the journal closed, storming off into the distance. “Dammit...! That goddamn coward.”

Micah gazed after him, shrugging in confusion. “You wanna try findin’ him?”

The older man coughed before waving a dismissive hand. “No. We’re here for Arthur and Isaac. No one else. If Bill wants to leave us behind and freeze to death in these mountains, then so be it.”

“Of course, of course. But you should know, Dutch... it’s gonna be trickier, now that it’s just the two of us. ‘Cause as much as I hate Arthur and his lil’ brat, I can’t deny that them boys know how to fight. I mean, look at what they did to my goddamn eye.”

Dutch glanced down at the journal, mindlessly tightening his grip on it. “...I’ll fight Arthur myself if need be. I raised him ever since he was a boy. I know how he thinks.”

The man coughed a few more times, his strength wavering with every jagged breath as the wind howled loudly around them.

“...Listen, son,” Dutch continued, his tone much softer now, “I don’t know how all this is gonna end. I don’t know if... Arthur will kill me, or if the tuberculosis will, but... whatever happens, I appreciate you stayin’ by my side this whole time. You’ve always had my back ever since you joined us, and I won’t forget it.”

Micah grinned, his eyes dark with insincerity. “Of course, Dutch. You’re practically family to me now. There ain’t much I wouldn’t do for you.”

Dutch nodded in reassurance. “I know, son. I know.” 

Slipping the journal back into his satchel, Dutch walked over to his horse and began mounting up, eager to continue his search for Arthur while the day was still young.

“C’mon, Micah.” He beckoned. “We’ve got one last score to settle.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

NEAR LAKE ISABELLA

“Here,” Isaac said, handing a warm mug to Arthur as the campfire crackled between them. “Drink this.”

The man took the cup in hand, curiously examining the dark liquid inside. “What is it?”

“It’s... medicine, I guess you could say,” Isaac answered. “I made it from some herbs I picked. I was gonna brew it when we got done fishing yesterday, but I never had the chance. It should calm your cough down a bit.”

Arthur raised the mug in appreciation, beaming at the boy. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Isaac held up a hand just before his father could consume the drink, giving him a last-minute warning.

“Oh, um, just so you know -- it’s probably gonna taste like shit.”

Arthur chuckled, bringing the mug to his lips. “Yeah, I figured as much. That tends to be the case with most medicines. Though, it can’t be worse than salted offal.”

He took a sip, immediately grimacing from the bizarre taste. “Jesus Christ, you wasn’t kidding. What kinda herbs did you make this with?”

Isaac smirked at his father’s disgusted expression. “English Mace and Alaskan Ginseng. They’re pretty hard to find in Ambarino, but they’re a common mixture when it comes to curing illnesses. I remember mom always used to make this when I got sick.”

Arthur cocked a brow in interest. “Did she?”

The boy smiled fondly at the memory. “Yeah. I’d always get nervous whenever I saw her makin’ it in the kitchen ‘cause I knew it would taste horrible. But... I can’t really complain. It did its job, after all.”

The older man nodded in a nostalgic manner. “Yep. Eliza always had a knack for takin’ care of people. I remember she’d fret over me every single time I came home, lookin’ to see if I had any stray bullets stuck in me and whatnot.” A sigh escaped Arthur. “Your mother was such a sweet woman. She didn’t deserve the stress I put her through.”

Isaac gave Arthur a gentle look, reminiscing about his times with Eliza. “...She loved you, you know.”

Arthur cupped the warm mug in his hands, setting it down for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Mom always talked about you whenever you was away. She could never say much since she didn’t want me to know about your work, but I could tell she missed you. She was never angry, though. She understood why you couldn’t be around.”

Arthur felt a tinge of guilt. “...Did you?”

“Not at the time,” Isaac admitted. “But I do now. You had people to look after. A gang to protect. You couldn’t just abandon them.”

The older man glanced at the ground in remorse. “I guess that’s true. But I still wish I could’ve protected you and Eliza. You were in danger, and I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

Isaac shook his head in disagreement. “It was four men against a woman and her child. Even if you had been there, you probably just would’ve gotten shot with her. And trust me, that’s not what mom woulda wanted. For either of us.”

Arthur found some peace in those words. “...Maybe you’re right.”

Falling into silence for a moment, the two of them quietly enjoyed each other’s company as snowflakes gently fluttered down from the sky, painting the ground around them with a new layer of snow.

The weather was getting colder in this region, or so it felt. It was probably due to the fact that they were further up north than before, but the sun seemed to appear less often these days, and Isaac couldn’t remember the last time he saw anything apart from dying grass and naked trees.

It just made the boy wonder how much longer they had until they’d reach Canada’s border. He had never been anywhere outside of the United States, so the idea of finding freedom in a different country was admittedly daunting for him... but he knew they had to do it.

There was nothing left for them in America. Both of their gangs had scattered to the winds, and it was more than obvious that the age of outlaws was finally dying out. 

Civilization was moving on without them, and if they didn’t catch up, they wouldn’t survive. It was a sad truth about their lives, but one they had to accept.

“Hey, Dad,” Isaac said. “I gotta ask. Did you... hear what Bill said last night? About Dutch bein’ sick with TB?”

Arthur nodded, his tone more serious now. “Yep. It would explain why we’ve both been coughin’ so much.”

The boy sighed. “...I’m sorry. I wish there was somethin’ I could do.”

The older man coughed into his elbow a few times. “You’ve done more than enough, Isaac. Don’t go blamin’ yourself, now. We talked about this.”

“I know,” Isaac replied. “It’s just... hard to accept, you know?”

Arthur took another sip of his drink. “I understand.”

Finishing the rest of his medicine, Arthur put the empty mug down and stood up from his seat, stretching out his arms as he began gathering their stuff.

“Hey, Isaac, why don’t you go make sure the horses are ready? I think it’s time we get movin’ again. We’ve been stuck here long enough.”

The boy followed his father’s actions and headed over to the hitching posts, helping to pack up their camp.

“Okay. You think this weather will hold up? It got pretty bad last night. I just hope there won’t be another storm blowin’ through here before we can... we can...”

Stopping mid-sentence, Isaac’s voice suddenly trailed off into silence as the young man noticed something in the distance, leading Arthur to follow his gaze.

“Isaac?” He called out. “Everything okay?”

The man glanced at Arthur, his tone now low with caution. “Dad, I think I see Pinkertons.”

Taking hold of his gun, the older man instantly strode over to Isaac’s side and stepped protectively in front of him, looking to see who it was approaching them from the horizon.

Their uniforms certainly resembled that of the Pinkertons, but unlike before, it wasn’t just Edgar Ross and Agent Fordham. This time, it looked like they had an entire group of men riding with them, ready to take Arthur and Isaac in at a moment’s notice.

Arthur whispered quietly to the young man as the Pinkertons rode in their direction, making sure to keep his movements subtle.

“Keep your gun close, boy. And be ready to ride when I say so.”

Isaac nodded, taking position near the horses. “Got it.”

Standing his ground, Arthur readied his pistol as the Pinkertons got closer to their camp, causing a trail of snow to wildly spray behind their mounts.

So far, no one was shooting at them, so Arthur took that as a sign that the Pinkertons wanted them alive. But based on the heavy amount of security Ross had brought with him this time, he assumed that lethal force was no longer out of the question.

Arthur would have to do his best to keep things peaceful. There weren’t a lot of places for them to hide out here, and if anyone started firing, he and Isaac would be caught dead in the open.

It was unlikely that they’d be able to run away from this without a fight, but for the sake of not getting Isaac killed, Arthur was sure as hell going to try.

He just had to trust that the boy would do the same.

“Mr. Morgan.” Agent Ross greeted upon reaching the camp, remaining mounted on his horse. The rest of the Pinkertons lined up beside him, keeping their rifles at the ready.

“I’m surprised to see you all the way out here,” Edgar confessed. “I didn’t think you���d risk trying to survive out in this cold, but it seems Mr. Bell was correct.”

That caught Arthur off-guard. “You spoke with Micah?”

The Pinkerton casually adjusted his sleeves, straightening the cuffs. “Regrettably, yes. Not too long ago, actually. He was quite the informant. Said he didn’t know exactly where to find you, but that he suspected you were wandering somewhere in Grizzlies West. Looks like he knew what he was talking about. For once.”

Arthur grunted at that. “I’m sure he did.” He coughed a number of times, trying to stifle it as he spoke. “Look, what d’you want? It’s clear you ain’t just here to chat.”

Edgar’s eyes narrowed. “No, I’m not. We’re done giving second chances, I’m afraid. Though, I’ve given you far more than that, haven’t I?”

The agent took a few steps forward, signaling the other Pinkertons to brace themselves.

“Look, Mr. Morgan, I know we’re both tired of having this same conversation over and over again. Lord knows I am. But I need you to listen to me. Ideally, we would like to capture you alive and have you face full justice, but I think it’s safe to assume by now that you’re not the type to cooperate with the law. Or with anyone, really.”

Ross held up a cautionary finger. “This is why I’m only giving you one last opportunity to comply. Surrender your weapons, and come with us peacefully. Do this, and you have my word that you and your son will not be harmed. Not for now, anyway. Once we return to civilization though, your lives will be in the hands of the law. You will both face a trial, and a judge will sentence you. What happens after that is up to them. If you refuse to surrender, however...”

The Pinkertons prepared their weapons, causing Isaac to grow restless in his position. Arthur threw a side-glance at him, reminding him to stay calm.

“...well,” Edgar continued, “I think you know what’ll come next.”

The outlaw scoffed at the meager offer, glaring at Ross in disbelief. “So, my only options are to either die right here, or let you drag me and my son all the way to Blackwater where you can parade us around before havin’ us swing? You really think that I’ll--” a cough interrupted him, “--that I’ll--”

Another series of coughs came bursting from Arthur’s throat, causing the man to keel over slightly as the Pinkertons watched him from their mounts, waiting for a response.

Meanwhile, Isaac stared at his father in concern and felt the need to rush over to him, but restrained himself out of fear of alarming the Pinkertons.

“...That’s quite a cough.” Edgar remarked plainly.

Arthur spat some blood onto the snow, wiping his mouth. “TB will do that to you. I got it from Dutch himself, apparently.”

“That’s a tough disease.”

“Sure. But it makes your job easier, I suppose.”

Edgar rested his arms on the saddle’s horn. “I know you see us as the bad guys, Mr. Morgan. We’re the ones threatening your livelihood, after all. But what’ll it take for you to see that you’re also threatening the livelihood of others? You people are all about violence, and living in the wild. Your code revolves entirely around one man and his gun versus another man. It’s survival of the fittest, put simply. It’s a living hell.”

Arthur shook his head. “You’re talkin’ philosophy with the wrong man, agent. I done some bad things in my time -- that, I won’t deny -- but I don’t care about any of that no more. Right now, only concern is my son. And as much as you and I may disagree, you are right about one thing. You are a threat to my son’s safety, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do that’ll convince me to let you lay your hands on him.”

The agent sighed in disappointment. “Well, unfortunately for you, there’s nothing that can stop us.”

Realizing that it was pointless trying to dissuade Arthur from the inevitable, Edgar decided to put an end to this chase and reached for his gun, swiftly pulling it out so that he could shoot the man.

Just before he could properly aim however, Arthur quickly caught wind of his intentions and hastily fired a stray bullet, shooting Edgar’s horse in the neck. The creature reared in panic and collapsed to the ground, causing the agent to be trapped under its massive body. 

Though, that didn’t stop the man from pulling the trigger. Despite the unexpected turn of events, Edgar still attempted to take a shot at the outlaw, and before Arthur even had time to react, he suddenly felt a sharp pain hitting him in the abdomen.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out what just happened.

“Father!” Isaac shouted in horror, hurrying to Arthur’s side. He fired two bullets into the line of Pinkertons, taking down an agent with each of them. 

Letting out a strained groan, the boy desperately dragged Arthur over to his horse as the agents continued to fire back at him, only to end up shooting a large tree that stood between them.

“Stay with me, Dad...!” Isaac urged, helping his father onto his horse.

Climbing onto the saddle in front of Arthur, the young man let loose another bullet in the Pinkertons’ direction before bolting off in the other, causing Agent Ross to yell after them.

“Goddammit!” He barked. “Don’t let them escape! And somebody help me out from under this horse!”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

NORTHEAST OF LAKE ISABELLA, COLTER

Galloping frantically through the snow as the Pinkertons fervently chased after him, Isaac found himself riding into what looked an abandoned settlement not too far away from Lake Isabella, leading him to come to a halt.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was give the Pinkertons a chance to catch up to him, but with the state that Arthur was currently in, he needed someone to look after his wounds. 

There was already a worrying amount of blood staining the fabric of his shirt, and judging by the roughness of the man’s breathing, Isaac assumed the horse’s sporadic movement wasn’t helping him much either.

He hopped off of Aldo’s saddle, quickly bringing Arthur into his arms.

“I got you, Dad.” Isaac whispered, letting the older man lean on him as he headed inside one of the cabins. “Just hold on.”

Arthur groaned sharply at the pain piercing through him, struggling to keep up with the boy’s pace.

“...What the hell’re you doing...?” He wheezed, pressing a hand on his stomach where the bullet had hit him. “You need... to run...! The Pinkertons--”

“--I’ll worry about the goddamn Pinkertons later!” Isaac dismissed. “I ain’t lettin’ you die. Not like this.”

Kicking the cabin’s flimsy door open, Isaac practically hurled Arthur inside before shutting the entrance again, giving the older man some time to rest on the floor. They couldn’t hear any of the Pinkertons’ voices at the moment, but Isaac knew it wouldn’t be long before they picked up their trail again.

He crouched down next to Arthur, taking a closer look at his injury.

“Shit...” Isaac muttered under his breath, unsure of what to do. He fumbled through his pockets for a minute, desperately searching for anything that could’ve helped. “I... I have some bandages left. Here.”

Stretching the bandages into one long strip, Isaac tightly wrapped them around Arthur’s waist as the man hissed in pain, trying not to make too much noise lest the Pinkertons hear them. 

Blood was already starting to seep through the thin layers of white cloth, and with every agonizing second that slipped by, the more Arthur could feel his energy escaping him.

No, Arthur thought to himself. Not now. Not like this. He couldn’t give up. He just couldn’t. Not after fighting for so long. Not after finding his son after all these years.

He had to stay strong. For Isaac’s sake. The boy was counting on him to survive. He couldn’t die now. He refused to.

“...Dammit...!” Arthur cursed through clenched teeth as Isaac pulled on the bandages. “That son-of-a-bitch got me good...!” 

The outlaw’s body shook with another series of coughs, causing even more blood to gush from the open wound.

Isaac immediately placed his hands on top of the injury and pressed down, doing whatever he could to stop the bleeding. But it was no use.

The red liquid only ended up leaking through the cracks between his fingers, and by now, Arthur’s skin had transformed into an alarmingly pale color. 

His eye sockets were almost purple, and judging by how the man could barely walk right now, Isaac knew there wasn’t much of a chance of him getting out of this alive. But that didn’t mean he was willing to quit.

“Hold on, Dad...” the boy pleaded, “...please. Just hold on.”

“...Isaac...” Arthur groaned out, his voice grating against his throat. 

“You’re gonna be fine.” The boy insisted. “Don’t you give up on me now.”

The outlaw coughed weakly, struggling to get his next words out. “...Isaac, listen to me.”

“You’re gonna be fine.” He repeated, but Arthur knew what was coming. “We just... we just need to...”

“Isaac...!” He said more firmly, gripping the boy’s arm this time. “Listen to me.”

The young man fell silent, his eyes glossy with tears. He looked up at his father, fully aware of what the future held. 

“I’m... I’m dying, son.” Arthur said softly, almost sounding apologetic. “I can feel it. I know... this ain’t how we wanted things to end, but it’s what we’ve come to. It’s what we gotta deal with. You hear me...? I need you... to be strong, Isaac.”

The boy gazed downwards, unable to hide his true emotions. 

“I...I don’t know if I can, Dad. First mom, and now you? I can’t lose both of you. Not after we just found each other again.”

Arthur placed a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, urging the man to keep his composure. “I know it’s difficult, Isaac, but...” a cough rattled his chest, decimating what little energy he had left, “...I know you can still survive this. You’re strong. Much stronger than you realize. You just... have to keep pushing. Just for a little longer.”

Isaac shut his eyes, shaking his head in refusal. “...I ain’t goin’ to Canada without you, Dad. You’re outta your mind if you think I’m gonna leave you behind--”

“--You have to, Isaac...!” Arthur reiterated. “I wish things was different. I do. But look at me. I’m sick, I’m dying... I ain’t much use to anyone in this state. But you... you can still make it. You can still reach the border. You’ll be a free man. You’ll have the chance to start a new life for yourself. One that isn’t full of death, and violence, and fear. It’s the life your mother and I wanted for you.”

“But you said it yourself,” Isaac recalled. “What’s the point of survivin’ if you’ve got no one to care for?”

Arthur’s hand began to slide down Isaac’s shoulder, his exhaustion finally being reflected in his movement.

“You will find other people, Isaac. And besides, life don’t end just ‘cause you’re alone. I’m sure you’ll find someone you love. Someone who... you can start a family with.” A quiet chuckle escaped Arthur. “...Heh. Who knows...? You might even have a son of your own, someday. But whatever happens... you need to get out of Ambarino alive, first. You can’t stay here. You can’t... let me hold you back. You understand?”

Interrupted by the sound of men yelling at each other from outside, Isaac glanced out of one of the windows and suddenly noticed the large presence of Pinkertons closing in on the area, causing Arthur to reach for the boy’s hand.

“Isaac...!” He whispered urgently. “Tell me you understand.”

The young man gazed down at his father, still reluctant to leave him behind. The idea of leaving Arthur alone in the middle of these mountains tore Isaac apart with guilt, but deep down, he knew it had to be done if he wanted to live.

There were far too many Pinkertons for him to fight alone, and if they managed to corner him in this cabin, they’d both be finished.

Isaac would be shipped off to Blackwater to be executed, and all of Arthur’s efforts would’ve been in vain.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“...O-Okay.” The boy finally agreed, his voice trembling softly. “I’ll... I’ll go.”

Arthur appeared content with that and let out a relieved breath, his shoulders now slouching due to the fatigue quickly overtaking his body.

“...Thank you, Isaac.” he murmured weakly. 

Reaching for his satchel’s strap, Arthur slowly pulled the bag off and reached for his gun before handing both of them to Isaac, ensuring that the boy would have some supplies in the wilderness.

“It ain’t much...” Arthur said with a cough, “...but there’re some provisions left in here. They should keep you goin’ for a few more days. And take my pistol, too. You’ll need the extra firepower.”

Isaac cradled the last-minute gifts in his palms, staying quiet as his father lived out his final moments.

“Oh,” the older man remembered, “and there’s one last thing... I want you to take...”

Lifting a shaky hand up, Arthur gently gripped the dented crown of his hat and gave the accessory to Isaac, placing it so that it sat proudly on top of his head.

The hat looked like it was made for the young man, and for just a split second, Arthur almost felt like he was looking at a reflection of his younger self. Isaac had the same ruffled hair, the same blue eyes, and if he looked closely enough, Arthur could’ve sworn he saw some of Eliza’s features hiding behind his expression.

It was the perfect fit, just like when Arthur took the hat from his own father.

“You look just like me when I was younger,” the outlaw reminisced with a faint smile. “...Eliza would’ve been so proud of you. You’ve grown so much.”

Isaac’s sharp gaze softened a bit at the remark. “You think?”

“Well, I know I am.”

Letting his head lean back against the wall, Arthur finally decided to rest and and gazed up at the cabin’s decrepit ceiling, sighing in peace as Isaac stood up from the floor.

This wasn’t quite the death he imagined he would experience, but no matter how cold these mountains were, or how desolate their environment remained, Arthur still considered himself lucky for being able to be with his son in his final moments.

Part of him wished he could simply ignore the pain and follow Isaac out of these woods, but as the edges of his vision started to go black, the more reality began to sink in... and the more Arthur came to accept the fate that had been given to him.

His job in this world was done. His time with Dutch’s gang was over, and his responsibility as a father had been fulfilled. 

Isaac was his own man now. The boy still had much to learn about life and the people around him, but from now on, Arthur would have to trust that he would do the right thing in the future.

It was his journey to lead from this point, and Arthur could only hope that the kid had a better chance at life than he ever did.

It was the only thing he ever wanted for the boy. The only thing he and Dutch ever dreamed of.

Freedom.

“...Isaac...” Arthur whispered, his breath faltering with every syllable, “...if you see Dutch again.... tell him I never hated him. And I’m sorry I weren’t there when he needed me.”

The young man nodded in an assuring manner, trying his best not to break down in front of his father. “I will.”

“...Thank you, son...” The older man said quietly, letting his head tilt to the side. “Thank you.”

On the outside, he might’ve looked miserable to the boy, but on the inside, he was surprisingly content. Arthur found himself flipping through all his memories like an old photo album and recalled the days from when Dutch first met him, all the way to when he finally reunited with Isaac in Tall Trees.

There were so many emotions flowing through him. So many what ifs. So many things he wished he could’ve said when he still had the chance to say them.

He thought about his parents. He thought about Dutch and Hosea -- about their gang. He remembered the days they’d spend riding freely through the open deserts of New Austin, and the nights where they’d share stories around the campfire.

He thought about the years he spent falling in love with Mary. About the life he wished he could’ve had with her.

He remembered the pain of her absence when she decided to marry another man, and the happiness that quickly replaced it when he ran into Eliza a few years later.

But most importantly, Arthur remembered the day Isaac was born. He remembered the feeling of holding him for the first time, and wondering how on earth he was going to raise a family.

The boy was so innocent back then. So pure. He was completely untouched by the troubles of the world, and every time Arthur came home to visit, he’d feel at peace seeing his son’s face again... only to be forced to leave a few days later.

In the beginning, Arthur thought he’d never see Isaac again. He thought that Shay and his men had finished the kid off for good, and that he was condemned to be alone for the rest of his life.

And yet, here he was -- fifteen years later -- a full grown man, and fighting against the world entirely on his own, stronger than ever.

He carried a lifetime of sorrow and remorse with him, but Arthur knew that Isaac was still good at heart. The young man had the same compassion that Eliza held for others, and Arthur couldn’t have been prouder of the boy if he tried.

He loved him more than life itself, but now... he had to leave him behind. One last time.

Finally reaching the end of the road, Arthur welcomed the cold sensation that embraced him and calmly shut his eyes, falling still as one final breath escaped him.

His body was completely motionless now. Completely devoid of life. And the longer Isaac stared at the corpse of his father, the more he could feel warm tears welling up in his eyes. 

He was alone again. After all those years of seeking vengeance for Eliza’s death and finding the strength to move on from it, the process of mourning had reset itself.

It felt like the world around him had stopped turning, and despite the urgent threat of the Pinkertons lurking close by, Isaac couldn’t help but feel nothing except emptiness.

But he knew there was no time to grieve. Not right now. Arthur would’ve wanted him to get out of here safely, and he wouldn’t have wanted him to look back.

So, with one last farewell, Isaac said a brief goodbye to his father before heading for the cabin’s exit, and taking his leave from the abandoned town.

He felt like the same scared, little boy that watched Eliza die again, but this time, he wasn’t going to let others determine his fate for him.

He wasn’t going to allow anyone to control him like Shay or his gang did, and he wasn’t going to lose himself to vengeance.

The only thing he was going to do was reach the border, and he’d be damned if he let anyone stop him.

~~~~~~~~~~

OUTSIDE COLTER

Stepping back out into the unforgiving weather of Ambarino, Isaac removed himself from the confines of the cabin and began making his way back to Aldo, only to stop in his tracks when he noticed a man waiting for him outside.

The man was clearly a Pinkerton based on his uniform, but unlike his fellow lawmen, he seemed to display no hostility towards Isaac. His gun was resting in its holster, and even though the boy was obviously alone now, the agent showed no intentions of taking advantage of the situation.

In fact, his temperament suggested quite the opposite. The man wore a sympathetic expression on his face, and when his eyes landed on the signature hat sitting on Isaac’s head, a proverbial light bulb seemed to illuminate in his mind.

Isaac tentatively walked towards the man, analyzing his face.

It was Agent Fordham.

“There you are.” The Pinkerton said as he leaned against a wall, keeping his arms crossed. 

The boy kept a hand close to his gun, admittedly suspicious of the lawman’s motives.

“Archer Fordham...? What are... what are you doin’ here? You knew I was in there?”

The man nodded. “Yes. I saw you and your father go inside earlier, but I didn’t have the heart to interrupt.”

Archer sighed morosely, gazing at the snow-covered ground. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Morgan. Your father and I may have been on opposite sides of the law, but it sounds like he was a good man.”

Isaac replied halfheartedly, still somewhat shocked by the sudden death.

“He was.”

The Pinkerton steadily approached Isaac, careful not to alarm him.

“Listen, Mr. Morgan, I know this is a traumatic time for you, but you need to understand your current position. If Edgar finds you, you’ll be a dead man. After that little shootout he had with your father back at camp, he’s fully intent on taking you back to Blackwater as a corpse. He won’t let you walk out of here alive.”

Isaac picked up on the man’s tone. “...But you will?”

Fordham let out a conflicted breath, furrowing his brow in thought. “I believe in a world of law, Isaac, but I don’t believe that a world built on order has to be one without mercy. I’ve read your files. I know you’re only twenty-one years old. And I know that if I alert my superiors of your presence here, they’ll take away everything you’ve worked for. They’ll have you killed.”

The agent stepped closer to Isaac, looking around to make sure no one else was nearby.

“...I know Edgar disagrees with me on this, but I think you deserve a chance at life. It may be the unlawful thing to do -- letting you go -- but I believe it’s the right thing to do. After all, how much is civilization really worth if we reflect the same savagery we fight?”

Taken aback by Archer’s compassion, Isaac found himself at a loss for words and simply stared at the man incredulously, unable to believe his stroke of luck.

“You-- you’re--” Isaac stuttered, “...thank you, Fordham. I doubt your friends would’ve done the same.”

The Pinkerton maintained a stoic demeanor, but Isaac could tell he felt empathy for the young man.

“Just don’t mistake my mercy as a pardon. You’ll still be a wanted man in the United States, and the Pinkertons will take you in if they find you again -- myself included. So, if you have any plans to get out of the country, I’d use them now. This will be the only chance you get.”

Isaac nodded despondently, his mind still preoccupied with Arthur’s final words. “Of course. I understand.”

Archer turned on his heel and walked back to his horse, promptly ending the conversation there.

“Good. Then I think it’s best if you and I pretend we never had this talk.”

Mounting up, Agent Fordham took hold of the reins and clicked his tongue, urging the horse to begin trotting away.

“It’s a shame that it had to end this way, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you luck. For both our sakes, I hope we never cross paths again.”

Isaac watched the man slowly vanish into the distance, holding onto Arthur’s gun as if his father were still around. He was fully aware that the man wasn’t coming back, and yet, part of him couldn’t help but hope.

Strangely enough though, that just seemed to make it even worse.

“Yeah...” Isaac whispered solemnly, his tone burdened with loneliness. 

“...Me too.”