#BUT ALSO ALL THE DOUBT HE PUT INTO ARTHURS MIND COMING BACK TO HAUNT HIM

[nextstopparis]

how can you trust someone who’s lied to you?

[littlecactiguy]

A short writing exercise on John Doe from Malevolent, roughly based on a short video from I want to say late last summer/fall where Harlan voiced over them doing a farming game (I think? It's been a while, but I'm fairly certain that was a thing. Anyway, it's been sitting as a draft that long).

Let me know what you think <3 I'm considering signing up for the big bang as a writer, but want to get a feel for this fandom space before I commit to anything.

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Of the three horses in the pasture, only the one John himself has now learned to ride comes over at his approach to the fence. Arthur’s gelding’s ears rotate in his direction, but the creature doesn’t seem to consider John more important than his grazing. The big, old draft horse who came with the small farm, and is enjoying his retirement immensely, continues to enjoy both the sunlight and his nap.

John isn’t so self absorbed as to believe his mare has any specific allegiance to him. She’s a horse. She’s intelligent, but he’s not been convinced that she has the capacity to understand the finer points of reasoning on why she shouldn’t ally herself with a former horror from beyond human comprehension. She’s simply learned to associate him with certain things.

Slowly, John takes the apple he’d snatched from the kitchen table fruit bowl out of his pocket.

Like treats. Mostly treats.

John holds out his hand, the apple carefully balanced on his palm. His mare sniffs. Her whiskers tickle his hand. Then, she accepts the offering. The mare’s lips rub against John’s hand as she takes and crushes the apple between her powerful teeth.

It’s a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. John has found he rather likes it. Touching a fellow living creature, feeling its warmth and its life beneath his fingertips is…

It’s hard to describe. Despite his attempts to do so in a journal he has firmly told Arthur he’ll murder him for if he ever comes close to reading, John still doesn’t know how. His relationship to sensation while in Arthur’s body has become a hazy dream he can only half-remember, but the parts he does…

Those are…

They weren’t all bad, John often convinces himself. The cold and the chill, the empty, simply all haunt in a way warmth, true warmth, not the burning heat of freshly spilled blood, do not. It makes their memory sharper in his mind’s eye, easier to recall.

John’s mare steps closer, reaching her head over the fence to nuzzle at his pockets.

“I’m afraid that’s all I have today.” John strokes her mane. Focuses on the softness. Allows the thought of its comfort to wash the fragments of dark doubts back into the deep ocean from whence they came. “Arthur may have a point about too many treats, but we won’t tell him that, will we?”

This mare had never been afraid of John, or growled at him like various dogs he’d met, whose eyes told John they could see him in ways others could not. He’d attributed her lack of fear, at first, to her perhaps not being all that smart, but the mare has indicated otherwise (largely through pasture escape attempts, which John can’t truly fault her for, being able to go where you want when you want is quite nice).

He doesn’t believe she’d ally herself with him if she knew any better, but horses, even the dim ones, are also notoriously, instinctively, jumpy creatures.

John’s mare’s calm around him makes him feel something he refuses to put to words in fear it’ll be chased away.

Even if it’s only, obviously, most likely only due to the apples.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

some unsolicited thoughts about chief pilot fairbairn, the man who haunts both the narrative of herc shipwright and my mind

let’s base ourselves in canon first. linda HAS to have a good relationship with him otherwise what are we even doing here. why would she pursue the same career as him in the same company if they didn’t get along?

flying is obviously a passion of hers so it wouldn’t be a big stretch to assume her father was the one to encourage it in her childhood. or probably even introduce it to her himself

all im saying is the man probably started teaching her to fly the minute she could repeat radio communications after him.

imagine this man during her first solo, just anxiously watching her from the ground, listening in on the frequency to make sure everything is going to plan, then when she lands upending a bucket of water over her head and hugging her so tightly she sees stars, ignoring his airfield buddies dumping more water over him

i just think chief pilot fairbairn’s first thought when he saw his baby for the first time was “there’s my new flying buddy”

there aren’t rules against family members flying together, but i do think chief pilot fairbairn probably limited them at air cal, to remove the temptation of flying with his daughter too often and stunting her growth by not exposing her to her colleagues’ ways of thinking and working. also because if something happened to both of them, he wouldn’t want to put that on his wife.

oh yeah i also think linda’s parents are still together. i love that contrast with four-times-wed herc shipwright

chief pilots are part of the hiring process at airlines. it’s canonically established that he did everything he could on his part to make sure she got the air cal job without his conflict of interest getting in the way. bc i don’t think he would have even let her apply if he didn’t believe she would be the best fit for the position

he’s got to be such an upstanding man to his employees. he must command so much admiration for people to want him to notice them (and try to get his daughter to put in a good word for them in the process). he must command so much respect for linda to be so upset at the mere suggestion that he might have influenced her acceptance to the company.

speaking of employees, he and herc have to at least have an understanding for herc to be so confident that he can recommend arthur higher up in the air cal chain of command

herc was probably hired in unusual circumstances, so chief pilot fairbairn probably remembers him in particular. even without the headcanon of herc and linda being work besties, that has to be true

even then, if herc and linda are besties, chief pilot fairbairn wouldn’t be warm with herc on the basis of that understanding. he’s literally like “linda, you think you can ‘fix’ him?……well, i’ve never found the desire to doubt in you, and i’m certainly not about to start now.”

but i think he comes around. eventually. maybe herc and chief pilot fairbairn don’t become bffs but fairbairn feels at least some gratitude for herc being there for his daughter where he couldn’t

chief pilot fairbairn is just so suncoded. everyone basks in his warmth. he’s a cuddler through and through, who loves when he is able to hold his wife and/or his daughter. but Watch Out

he’s always calm and gives the appearance of having an easygoing personality which is kind of opposite of linda canonically being headstrong and sometimes combative, but i think if you fuck up so badly and manage to piss him off. Watch Out

he has a mustache and thighs and a belly and body hair. and his sense of fashion is stuck a few decades back. he’s irresistible.

i think he listens to a lot of 70s soft rock. sometimes mellow 80s. linda got her music taste from him too

i really don’t know how to end this. stan chief pilot fairbairn i guess

[zablife]

@brummiereader As I said in my message earlier, the notification for this fic made me squeal with fangirl glee! I've been patiently waiting for this like a popular film release! The picture alone was enough to start my heart pounding bc I could only imagine the horrible things these two dark minds might devise 😬

From the start I knew nothing good would come of their partnership, Tommy pushing cocaine on Arthur to make him even more violent and unpredictable. His menacing confrontation with Bunny over her suitcase is an excellent opening to reveal his erratic behavior and confusing way of thinking. He's threatening her and thinking how lucky she is to have him keep her safe!! This is such a seamless continuation of Shark's portrayal.

Tommy's approach of psychological manipulation is recognizable from your series Killing Me Softly. This time there's a hint of perversion as well when he says she's been naughty and tucks her underwear in his pocket. Something about that made me shudder.

However, it's the idea of the game they're about to play that truly caused me to shake and shiver, wondering what Tommy had in store. The way he and Arthur keep them waiting, choosing who will go first and reciting the nursery rhyme is eerily haunting (and reminiscent of how you began your series!! Loved that callback btw!) It's the nonchalance of their speech and the humor passed between them that make this utterly sociopathic as well. There's no regard for the women upset and crying before them.

The staged Russian roulette loyalty test is genius!!! It speaks to Tommy's narcissism beautifully. I gasped at the delusional sense of certainty his methods work. "I told you to trust me and you did, there's no doubt where your loyalty stands where your love stands." The added fact that he's turned on by all of this is truly frightening.

Bunny's fate is equally horrific. I particularly enjoyed the moment of hopelessness where she views Y/n and glimpses her future 😵‍💫 Your description of Arthur's big moment is lovely as you've detailed his motivation so well: You can't reason with a mad man, a man not only consumed by his own paranoia but also his obsession and love for the woman he had be holding captive. All I could think was OMG, She's doomed!!

The escalation that comes next was masterful in all the lovely detail--the leather gloves!!, the unsettling chant of "pick, pick, pick", followed by the sound of the gunshot. WOW!! So well paced and perfectly executed. The final image of Arthur smiling back at her was totally unnerving and quite memorable. But you saved the best for last with this epic line: "Arthur your Bunny's hoping away, keep control of it or put it back in its cage." 😳 I am still in a state of shock, darling! This was everything I hoped and more for this deliciously dark fic. Giving you a standing ovation rn 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not (ONE SHOT/ DARK!TOMMY & YANDERE! ARTHUR)

Summary: Enter the mad paranoia of Tommy and his brother Arthur as they try to prove to themselves that you and Bunny's loyalty belongs with them after their discovery of your planned escape.

Warnings: Language, violence, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, psychological mind games, psychological manipulation, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, Dark!Tommy & Yandere!Arthur (This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors Note: This story is a merge of two worlds, Dark!Tommy & Y/N from "Killing Me Softly" and Yandere!Arthur & Bunny from "Hey Bunny", written by my incredibly talented friend and mutual @call-sign-shark. I can't recommend enough to go and check out her fantastic series!

" Look at 'em Tom" Arthur said quietly to his brother as he turned his back to you and Bunny from across the room sitting at the large mahogany table next to eachother. " They think we don't know what they're up to" he grinned darkly as his younger brother smirked in agreement, watching you pull up the strap of your emerald dress. Little did you know yours and Bunny's plan to escape the shackles of torment the two Shelby brothers had been relentlessly inflicting on you both would soon be eclipsed by another plan, one the siblings had concocted a fortnight ago after finding out your intentions to flee. "Why would they do that ay, scheming behind our backs like that? Don't they fucking love us? " Arthur said through gritted teeth, his mood quickly changing from anticipation of playing out their sadistic game to a temper rapidly rising within him. Volatile, unhinged and quick to snap. If Tommy wanted the night to go as planned he needed to calm his brothers erratic emotions and keep control of the situation.

" Here" Tommy said pulling out a small blue bottle of cocaine from his suit pocket which Arthur snatched out of his hand like a starved animal, snorting its contents within a few seconds. " After tonight we'll... Ey! Arthur, Listen!" Tommy said tapping the side of his brothers cheek in attempts to hold his attention as Arthur wiped the remnants of the white powder from his nose. " After tonight we'll know. We'll no where their loyalties stand" Tommy said with his hand firmly placed on his older brothers shoulder as Arthur nodded his head glancing over at Bunny.

"I can't lose my Bunny Tommy" Arthur said, his eyes wide, his body suddenly jittery with panic as he looked back to his brother.

" Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled under his breath. Clearly the sweet release of his brothers preferred drug of choice hadn't warranted the affect he had hoped for or at least, not yet. " Arthur will you calm the fuck down, you're starting to creep me out" he replied cocking a brow as he returned to looking at you. His eyes roaming over your body as he bit his bottom lip imagining you naked as he pinned you...

" Tom, Tom..." Arthur said nudging his brothers arm with his elbow, breaking him out of his fantasy or rather, the plans he had for you at the end of the evening.

"She nearly escaped a few weeks ago" Arthur said quietly as he looked over to Bunny staring aimlessly into her glass, watching the amber liquid glisten from the warm light of the chandeliers as the soft music from the gramophone played out.

" And I told you. You gotta double lock. They're sneaky Arthur, they'll try and find a way out" Tommy replied as Arthur's eyes cast down to the wooden floorboards, mentally scolding himself for forgetting his brothers wise words of wisdom. After all, Tommy had become an expert in this field of debauchery. "Chin up, ey?"

" Yeh Tom, yeh..." Arthur replied as he pinched his bottom lip together, sniffing back his worries. " Right, fuck" he said clapping his hands together shaking of the last remnants of his wandering paranoia.

" That's it brother. Come on, let's have some fun" he said patting his back as they strode over to you both, the evenings festivities minutes away from starting. "Bunny" Tommy said with a smirk etched on his face as Arthur stood beside him, biting his inner cheek as he tried to hold back his excited amusement. " Sweetheart" he said sending you a wink as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes glazing over with a smoky hue of lust as he got lost in his thoughts once again. "You two have been busy, haven't you?" Tommy said as he lit a cigarette looking between you both as Arthur wagged his index finger back and forth.

"Con..cocting something" Arthur added, his jaw tightening at the mere thought of deception as Bunny's hand squeezed yours under the table, her pulse beating so fast you could feel it vibrating against your skin.

"Arthur" Tommy said nodding to his brother who reached under the table, pulling out both of your suitcases. " Tut tut tut, going on a holiday without us, huh ladies?" Tommy said with a smirk glaring at you as your eyes widened in disbelief. You had both been so careful, so diligent in your plans. It was a miracle you managed to get as far as you had with the few times Arthur had brought Bunny over to Arrow house. "Your clothes, the children's clothes. Did you not pack anything of mine for this little getaway?" Tommy said as Arthur slammed the suitcases onto the table in front of you, pouring out both of their contents.

" Yeh, didn't see my swimming trunks in there Bunny" Arthur spat as he stared her down, the vein in his neck protruding from his escalating fury.

" A..Arthur, I...I" Bunny sobbed, stumbling her words out as Arthur loomed over the table, his fists clenched so tight they turned a ghostly shade of white. He was keeping her safe, keeping her from the dangers this city held for every woman that dared to venture out alone, why didn't she see that? Who knows what crazed person she could have run into, it's a good thing he was there to stop her from making that mistake. Arthur thought to himself as he stood up straight, rolling his shoulders of the tension that had been building up.

" Now you've both been very naughty. And we don't like naughty girls do we brother?" Tommy said picking up one of your lace knickers from within the pile on the end of his finger, cocking a brow as he put it in his suit jacket.

" No we don't. We like respectable, honest, loyal...obedient girls" Arthur said sniffing back the remnants of the cocaine he had snorted.

"That's right. You see, me and Arthur are starting to feel like your loyalty doesn't belong with, like you don't... love us"

" We feel betrayed, unappreciated"

" Those are strong word's brother. But betrayed and used we are, and after everything we have done for you" Tommy said furrowing his brow, an expression of hurt spread across his face, believable if it wasn't for the smirk playing mischievously on the corner of his mouth. "So, seeing how you two like to play games we have each come up with a way you can prove your loyalty to us and put our poor tired minds to ease. Right Arthur..."

" Tommy... darling, wait..." You panicked, tears welling in your eyes as Bunny quietly whimpered beside you, her hand now gripping yours even tighter.

" Not now sweetheart. The games about to start" Tommy said as he stood up from the edge of the table. "Arthur, if you don't mind" he said taking a drag of his cigarette as he leaned against the back of the sofa behind him.

" Eeny, meeny, miny, moe..." Arthur started to sing as his finger moved from you to Bunny. "Catch a spider by.."

" Tiger Arthur, it's fucking tiger" Tommy sighed, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" Same bloody thing" Arthur replied snapping his head back to his brother about to finish the rhyme when Tommy interjected again.

"Tell me eh, when was the last time you saw a spider with toes Arthur?" Tommy huffed as he and Arthur started get into an argument over the words to the nursery rhyme whilst bunny squeezed your hand, her eyes darting to the door then back to you to which you furiously shook your head at. There was no way you would both make it out, no matter how intense their ridiculous argument was getting. Whatever punishment was heading your way would be far worse if you tired to take your chances and make a run for it. " Alright! Alright! Just get on with it" Tommy said giving up, as Arthur's face lit up with a satisfied grin.

" It's toe, if it wiggles..." He said stopping his finger at bunny, wagging his finger from side to side with a unhinged grin on his face. " I'm gonna come over there and make you wiggle" Arthur giggled climbing over the table to Bunny when Tommy kicked the bottom of his boot.

" Arthur, behave " Tommy chuckled, they were enjoying this, their twisted little game no doubt the highlight of their week.

"Let it go, eeny, meeny, miny, moe" Arthur finished his finger pointing at you." You're up Y/N" Arthur announced as Tommy stood up grinning from ear to ear. " Y/N get up" Arthur said with his arms on his hips huffing as he looked back to Tommy. He wanted his turn and you were holding up the nights festivities with your reluctance to move. " She ain't budging Tom"

" Tommy please I'm sorry. I got scared, we got scared we panicked. Tommy our children..." You said tears streaming down your face as your eyes darted from Bunny to your husband .

" It's true Arthur, we just..." Bunny started to say as she swallowed back her tears.

" See this is the kind of shit you shouldn't fool for. Crocodile tears that's all that is. Arthur, please..." Tommy said cutting Bunny off as he motioned to the table, which Arthur flipped over in one quick motion.

" Aw would you look at that Tom. Their holding hands" Arthur pointed out to his brother at you and Bunny still clinging onto eachother for dear life, a film of sweat the only thing separating you.

" Adorable" Tommy said as he blew a cloud of smoke through the smirk on the corner of his mouth.

" Sister in law's supporting eachother, it's gonna make me cry." Arthur taunted as Bunny's eyes snapped to him, her face suddenly going a deathly shade of white at the thought of being shackled to this crazed man for life. " Yehh that's right Bunny, gonna make a Shelby out of you one day. Put a Shelby in that belly too. Maybe we'll skip the wedding part first, ay? He grinned as his tongue pressed on the roof of his mouth, his rabid eyes roaming over her body.

" Come on Arthur your scaring her" Tommy chuckled darkly as he flicked the ash of the end of his cigarette onto the floor.

"Yeh well, you're already on your third I gotta catch up" Arthur replied in annoyance that his baby brother was ahead of him in anything.

"What can I say I have strong swimmers" Tommy smirked winking to you. The only reason why Tommy was now a father of three was he never gave your body a moment's rest before he would climb on top of you again and have his way after each birth of your children, you were a laying hen, not a wife. "Come on darling, up you get" Tommy said walking over to you as he grabbed you by your arm, pulling you away from Bunny whose hand was still desperately holding onto yours, both of you now crying uncontrollably, every sob every whimper laced in terror. Breaking you apart, Arthur grabbed hold of Bunny as she scrambled forward to you.

" Now now Bunny, we have to take turns " Arthur said as his hand came down to her waist his fingers lacing between the soft fabric of her white flowing dress, one he had brought especially for her. She looked so innocent so pure. But Why was she crying, tonight was supposed to be fun? He thought to himself as he tried to catch her eye, her refusal to do so twisting his stomach into a knot of anger that he quickly digested before he lost his temper and spoiled the evenings games. "Come on Bunny" he said guiding her over to the sofa as you and Tommy were now sat opposite eachother at a small table in the corner of the room.

" Do you love me Y/N?" Tommy asked as he pulled a revolver from his holster.

"Of...of course..." You replied sniffing back your tears as he placed it on the table in front of you both, your eyes widening further as he pulled out one single bullet. You were used to Tommy's mind games, but they never involved lethal weapons like the one sitting in front of you. He had already warned you to never attempt to run again, and this time you had been so brazen about your plan you had made it clear with the contents of your suitcase you intended to take his children too.

" And do you trust me?" He asked sitting back as he spun the bullet on the table in a circle.

" Tommy... what's happening, what are you going to do? You replied, your voice shaking as you looked at the bullet spin around one last time, the curved edge now pointing at you.

" I'm the one asking question, now do you trust me?"

"Tommy..."

"Answer the fucking question Y/N!" Tommy snapped slamming his fist onto the table as Arthur giggled at his brothers outburst of anger. " You're making me angry love, and you know what happens when I get angry"

" I trust you Tommy" you quickly reassured him as Tommy glared at you, playing with the bullet between his fingers.

" Good" he said taking the gun, his hand hovering over the chamber as you closed your eyes, blinking the tears away from your blurry vision." We're going to play a little game" he said snapping it shut, spinning the cylinder before placing it back between you both. " Russian Roulette. Learnt it from some batshit crazy Russian years ago. Didn't want to play with her, but I do with you" Tommy smirked as he looked at the confusion on your face having never heard of the game." You won't have to worry your pretty little head with the rules. It's simple" he said, taking every opportunity he could to belittle you. " One bullet, 6 chambers. We take turns firing the gun..." he paused watching your eyes widen " Right here" he finished pointing to the side of his temple, when you abruptly stood up, pushing your chair back as Tommy reached over the table grabbing your arm.

" Tommy no, you're sick! You're fucking insane. I won't do this, I fucking won't!" You shouted to him trying to pull away from his vice-like grip circling your wrist.

" Yes love I know, I'm such a bad man" Tommy said sarcastically having heard you already insult him plenty of times before. " But you will play or else I'll send one of the girls away. And you'll never see them again. Do you understand me?"

" No! You can't do that, Tommy..." You pleaded as he pulled you down back into your chair. Three daughters, you had given him three beautiful girls in the short time you had been married, but that wasn't enough. Tommy wanted a son, an army of sons. And with his lack of a paternal bond with his daughters you knew he wasn't bluffing.

" I can and I will. It's not like we can't have another. He smirked, pushing the gun towards you. " Ladies first"

"Tommy .." you pleaded one last time as you looked at the gun in front of you.

" You're testing my patience sweetheart. If you really want to do this, then fine" Tommy said as he leaned back in his chair looking over his shoulder to the door." Frances, bring me the baby" Tommy called out his eyes darting back to see the fear rising within you as he waited for a response, waited for you to play along. Within seconds you picked up the gun, sobbing as tears streamed down your face. "Never mind" he called out as he nodded his head to the gun in your hand. Lifting the revolver to your temple you squeezed your eyes shut, the coolness from the metal pressing against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You would die for your children if it meant keeping them safe, if it meant keeping them from their father's torment. With your finger resting above the trigger you closed your eyes, hoping for a way out, from this life, from him. The gun pressed against your head didn't feel so damming after all...click. The chamber was empty, no bullet spent. You was still here, you was still alive. Gasping for air you threw the gun on the table which Tommy picked up, instantly putting it to his head and pulling the trigger without a second thought. Another click. No shot fired. The second turn mirrored the first. Through sobbing tears and thoughts of your children you pulled the trigger again, while Tommy's calm demeanor stayed exactly that, calm. Only two chambers left, one empty one with a bullet that would end either one of your lives.

" Tommy please, I love you, I trust you. We don't need to do this, we dont need to prove anything." You cried as Tommy took the gun putting it in your hand and placing it to your head.

" Pull it Y/N" Tommy said pushing your finger over the trigger.

" Tommy!" You wept uncontrollably, as a rush of fear overtook you, the sudden thought of your children being motherless the only thing holding you back from the years of torment you wanted to escape.

" Fucking pull it! he yelled at you as you wailed holding onto his arm, begging him to stop."Pull it!" He shouted again as you closed your eyes, the image of your daughter's playing within the grounds of Arrow House flashing before you...click. Dropping the gun on the table your hand flew to you mouth, you felt sick physically sick. But with no time to reflect on what had just happened Tommy had the gun already pointed to the side of his head...click. The gun was empty, it had been fucking empty all this time.

" See Tommy lad, she does trust you!" Arthur cheered as you abruptly stood up from your chair, your hands out behind you as you stumbled back away from Tommy's piercing stare, away from the smirk and enjoyment spread across his face.

"You tricked me! " you screamed as Tommy stood up and marched towards you, pinning you between the wall as his body.

" What, you think I want the mother of my children dead or fatherless? Oh darling, I never play by the rules, you should know that by now" he said as his hand cupped your cheek his eyes centimeters from yours. " I told you to trust me and you did, there's no doubt where your loyalty stands where your love stands" he said quietly in your ear, a slow exhale of hot air from his lips sending a wave of goosebumps down you neck.

" Look how your getting me" he smiled against your delicate flesh as he grabbed your hand cupping it around the growing bulge under his suit trousers, his aroused state throbbing under your hand as you turned your head away in disgust at his sadistic kink. " I'm gonna fuck you so hard tonight, I'll put a fourth in you. A fucking son." Tommy seethed in your ear whilst an untimely hint of a smirk graced your lips, unable to hold back the satisfaction that Tommy, the man who gets what he wants whenever he wants didn't have control over mother nature. You should have known better than to let it slip, for everything you did that displeased Tommy was worthy of punishment, and that small smirk hadn't gone unnoticed.

" Don't look Bunny" Arthur laughed with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. " My baby brothers pretty sick, he gets off from that kind of thing. Don't worry though sweetheart, I'm not like that" Arthur said with a smirk, his legs widening, pushing hers further to the edge of the sofa as he glared at her heaving chest.

"Your turn Arthur" Tommy said grabbing your hands, putting them behind your back as he walked you over to the sofa opposite them.

" Y/N..." Bunny cried wanting to reach out to you and she watched you slump into the sofa, the colour drained from your body. You were a broken woman. And as Tommy placed his arm around you, pulling you into his side, his lips ghosting over your neck, she suddenly felt like she was watching her own future. Beaten, broken and tired. Would this be her fate too?

" Bring in the contestants" Arthur jumped up as he walked over to the door snapping Bunny out of the haunting image of herself chained to a life of misery and abuse.

" Come on, fucking move" Arthur said behind the door as he walked in with two young men bound and gagged his gun pointing to their backs. "Kneel" Arthur spat, pushing the two men in front of Bunny as they struggled to keep themselves from falling over at her feet.

"Arthur, what's going on?" she said shifting forward in her seat, her eyes darting in a panic from Arthur to the two men in front of her as your own eyes widened in horror at the realisation of who they were. A chauffeur Tommy had hired only a few weeks ago, a sweet boy who's sole focus was the job in hand. And then...Harry. The stable boy who had been working on the grounds of Arrow House since he was a child. Both innocent young men, but not in the eyes of Arthur. For Arthur they had overstepped the line and he was seeking justice.

"Both of them were ogling you when we visited three weeks ago, so pick" he said matter of fact, without any further detail.

"Pick, what .."

" Pick one" Arthur replied handing her the gun as he sat beside her, his arm back securely draped over her shoulders as she watched the whimpers and cries of both the men, or rather boys hunched over eyes cast down. " So bunny, who's the lucky fella?" Arthur said turning to her staring blankly between both men. "Bunny?"

" Arthur no, nobody looked at me and even if they did I... I only have eyes for you I only want you. " Bunny pleaded knowing the very words he wanted to hear. Smiling, Arthur brushed his thumb down her cheek wiping the lone tear from her soft skin.

"Sorry darling but you're gonna have to pick. Both of these dirty fucks were looking at you, and I can't have that Bunny. But since I'm a forgiving man, a gentleman..." He said his moustache twitching at his high regard for himself. "...you only have to pick one" Arthur said as Bunny started to cry at the realisation she couldn't escape Arthur's sadistic game as much as you couldn't escape yours.

" Arthur, will you get your girl to fucking hurry up" Tommy said moving his lips from your neck for the briefest of seconds, his hand firmly grasped on your hip to stop you from moving.

"I know this is a big decision but you're making my brother upset Bunny " He said kicking the chauffeur, his muffled whimpers irritating him. "He wants to fuck his wife you see, and since we're guests in his house it's only polite we don't make him wait. Tick tock, tick tock" he smiled looking at the gun in her lap then back to her quivering bottom lip. " Fuck sake " he said standing up taking the gun from her realising her unwillingness to play along. Arthur was precariously on the edge of loosing his temper, his thirst for revenge was strong and he wouldn't end this game before one or both men were six feet under. " Which one bunny, the stable boy or the chauffeur" he smiled unnervingly as he pointed the gun at the back of each of the men's head.

"Arthur no! Stop, please..." Bunny pleaded endlessly, her strained efforts going unheard. You can't reason with a mad man, a man not only consumed by his own paranoia but also his obsession and love for the woman he had be holding captive.

" Pick bunny now! Arthur shouted putting the gun down on a small table beside him as he took a pair of black gloves from his back pocket as the muffled sobs of the two men intensified, the suffocating atmosphere in the room only increasing when Arthur picked up the gun again.

" Arthur we...we just greeted one another...it was innocent, don't make me do this dont do this, please..."

" Bunny I ain't repeating myself. Now pick!" He yelled as he pushed both his hands onto his forehead, pushing back the escalating fury within him, trying with all his might to not...snap. "Fucking pick, pick, pick!

"Arthur stop it, stop!" Bunny screamed closing her eyes when a loud gun shot boomed within the four walls and a heavy thud of a body hit the wooden floorboards below them. " Arthur..." Bunny said as she opened her eyes, her bottom lip wobbling in terror as she looked down in front of her to see the young chauffeur laying on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body.

" Picked for ya bunny" Arthur said his chest heaving up and down, hair disheveled, his eyes crazed as he smiled manically at her.

" Fucking hell Arthur, you got blood all over my walls!" Tommy said gesturing with his hand, more bothered about his immaculate home now splattered with blood than the dead body a few feet away from him.

" Sorry 'bout that brother" Arthur said smoothing his hair back away from his face as he looked down at his work, his grin turning into a satisfied smirk.

" Right we all done for tonight?" Tommy said standing up pulling you up with him, his hand snaking along your back down between your thighs as you squirmed under his touch.

" In the big guest room tonight yeh? With the big bed?" Arthur asked grabbing bunny by the arm pulling her trembling body over the lifeless man below her, dismissive of her horrified state, the tears cascading down her cheeks.

" Enjoy" Tommy winked nodding his head to his brother as he pushed you forward out the room. " Light a fire " Tommy said to one of his men standing by the entrance, gesturing back to the room where a night of carnage and terror had just played out, where Harry was still knelt beside the young man whose life had been so brutally taken. With Tommy's hand firmly on the curve of your back you slowly walked up the stairs, your body still trembling from the nights events.

" Arthur your Bunny's hoping away, keep control of it or put it back in its cage " Tommy said as you came to a stop in front of your room, watching Bunny frantically run down the corridor.

" It's alright, we're just playing" Arthur replied with a crazed giggle as he chased after her. Closing the master bedroom door behind him Tommy watched as you stumbled back to the edge of the bed a devilish grin gracing his lips as he stalked forward undoing his belt.

"Now about that smirk..."

[douxie-casperan]

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

~

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart 

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

[the-colony-roleplay]

Atlantis “Atlas” Holden Easte | Twenty Five;  Survivor

House: Torren Security Class: Three Status: Deluded Alignment: New Age Rebels

[*TW: drug use, blood, violence*]

History

“I've been up for three days, everything is haunted. Everybody's evil and there's bugs inside the carpet! Do you think I'm frightening? Organ chords and lightning?”

~ ~ ~

Arthur Easte broke the mold when he was born, or at least that’s what he’d tell anyone who would listen. Atlantis, an avid dreamer and lover of all things Arthur Easte, would sit in her father’s lap and listen to whatever tall tale he’d come up with that day. Her favourite story was the one about the day she’d been born. “The birds fled to the sky by the thousands. I swear the earth shook when you lifted your head to cry for the very first time. You’re such a terrifying little thing, Lany.” To which Atlas found immense pride in. Atlantis would later discover she was born the same day as an earthquake, so it wasn’t entirely a lie but that’s about as close to the truth she’d ever been when it came to her father. Arthur was a lot of things but honest wasn’t one of them. Not only was he an arms dealer on the blackmarket but he was also an addict. He was a loving father, sure, but he was more likely to come home with more bedtime stories (at 3AM no doubt) than a carton of milk. Despite his crippling addiction he did his best to keep it a secret from his two daughters but all of that changed when Atlantis turned 15.

It was 6:12AM, the morning of her fifteenth birthday, when Atlas heard a racket in the kitchen of her childhood home. She came bounding down the stairs, ready to welcome her father home from yet another “business trip” when she found him flat on his back on the kitchen floor, eyes as vacant as the promises he made during his NA meetings.  

Aurora Easte did her best to raise Atlantis and Salís but the truth was, she was a flimsy trace of a woman before Arthur died, and she was far less substantial with him gone. As far as Atlas was concerned, Salís and her were orphans. It was a truth that was incredibly difficult to argue with when her mother could rarely convince herself to get out of bed in the morning, much less feed and care for her two teenage daughters.  

She did her best to be a good role model for Salís but as hard as she tried she struggled to live up to that image. She moved through life the next three years with about as much grace as a seagull covered in oil. But still, Atlantis persisted, if not for her then for Salís. She worked herself to the bone and against all odds she got into NYU’s Psychology department. She was doing pretty well for herself, for a while anyway. It took about two weeks of classes for her to realize she was completely burnt out. She put so much work into her future only to wake up one day and realize she could care less if she lived or died. At the behest of her roommate she made an appointment with NYU’s therapy and counselling department. Soon after Atlantis was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. If she hadn’t been spiralling before, she certainly was now.

In her panic Atlas found 5-MeO-DiPT, or as she lovingly coined it, Pixie Dust. 5-MeO-DiPT had sensory distortion properties that caused severe visual hallucinations and released large quantities of serotonin but most importantly, it made the world go soft where once it had been brutal and sharp. She never meant to get addicted, and if you asked her, she would tell you she wasn’t.

The day asteroids fell from the sky, Atlantis was miles away, her mind fuzzy from alcohol and Pixie Dust. The issue being when Atlas came down from her high, and found the world in shambles, the hallucinations persisted. Whenever she looked at someone a colour surrounded them like veils or clouds of smoke and depending on the person auditory hallucinations would take place.  The world once bleak and colourless now blossomed into a waking LSD trip. It wouldn’t have been such a big issue if the hallucinations had remained colourful, but there were a select few survivors whose auras warped into clouds of black smoke, it would ooze and woosh around their heads like a murder of birds, and sometimes if she got close enough she could smell it–burnt flesh and  rotting fruit. She used to be able to discern if someone was a threat to her long before the hallucinations but now, the paranoia that once only belonged to her when sober, lent itself to her delusion. It didn’t matter if these people were real threats to her survival or not, not anymore. There was only the truth of what she could see and the little voice in her head urging her to remain alert.

After D-Day Atlantis went into hiding, unable to cope with her hallucinations. If it hadn’t been for Miles Braker, her best friend and drug dealer, Atlas might have stayed in New York and let the waves wash her out to sea. Miles packed up whatever he was able to salvage from their past lives (along with a handful of drugs for future use) and coaxed Atlas into joining a small group of survivors from within the city. Together they traveled among the wreckage of their once bright New York and made headway towards a community they heard whispers about in Massachusetts.  

Atlas Today

For the past five years Atlantis has been going through the motions of existing without actually living. With the help of Miles and against his better judgment, Atlas remained under the influence of whatever drugs they could get their hands on through the black market. Being high seemed to be the only cure for her hallucinations but it did little to help with her BPD symptoms such as episodes of depression, anxiety, flashes of unpronounced fits of rage and paranoia.

Atlantis and Miles had been in the middle of an argument when a riot broke out across Colony 1. There had been whispers of radicals making a move against the NWRF but Atlas never thought anything of it. As strong as the radicals were in spirit they didn’t have anywhere near the manpower needed to take over Colony 1, so what happened instead was just pure unadulterated chaos. In that chaos Atlantis was spotted by a NWRF guard, possibly mistaken for a radical in hiding, and quickly pulled her off of her feet. Atlas, incredibly high, terrified, and now hallucinating the guard who held her hostage as an oily black threat, reached for the knife in her pocket and stabbed him in the throat in one clean motion. She’s never been more angry with herself for accepting the knife from Miles. For protection, he said, just keep it out of view from anyone important.

The guard did not survive and Atlantis was thrown in correctional for her crimes for approximately one year.

A correctional officer aligned with the NWRF met with Atlantis and told her two things: one, Miles died in the riot, two, she had a chance to start her life over if she agreed to therapy and extra testing. She dissociated sometime after Miles was confirmed dead but agreed to their terms all the same. After all, she had nothing to keep her there anymore.

Having been on drugs since the age of 18 she’s having difficulty navigating life freshly sober. She goes to therapy several times a week as mandated by the agreement of her transfer from Colony 1 as well as extra shifts in the testing centre. Atlantis can’t help but feel observed by the NWRF guards, and although she’d been promised a fresh start in 22, she feels like there’s a target on her back. The consistent and rising paranoia of being watched leaves her mental state in shambles. She struggles with daily panic attacks, moods of irritability and a periodic shifting sense of self. She may come across as gentle or delicate when first meeting her but with enough time that facade cracks to reveal the uncertain cynic beneath. She’s a quick judge of character, impulsive, and so pessimistic that it borders on nihilism but she’s also fiercely loyal, affectionate, and outspoken in the face of injustice.

TAKEN; Original Character

[alifeasvivid]

I feel like if arthur was a business man and he was in the process of business-ing and brought someone to the home to broker of deal of some kind and was trying to sway them to sign or smth and he comes home to see his partner half naked (not the issue) struggling to put on a corset (not the issue, not even the weirdest thing he's caught alfred doing) and then seeing their other 2 partners sitting there giggling and making semi-crude comments (also on brand for them), arthur would be fine if his potential broker weren't downstairs waiting to meet Mrs. Kirkland and trying to explain that the loud thump they heard was in fact a falling book and not their partner falling on his ass. By the end of the night, the broker and his wife no doubt think that the Kirklands' home is haunted. And in the age of spiritualism, this would be a funny addition

(okay so in my mind, this would be separate from a lavender arrangement... and probably Victorian, not Edwardian... I think Edwardian fashions didn’t include corsets as much? don’t quote me on this)

So corsets were bespoke... and men also wore them, so Alfred would probably already know how to put on his own. Amelia and Alice could have teased him into putting on one of theirs by poking his tummy (which is perfectly flat, but he’s self-conscious the poor thing) and they know he won’t fit, but he doesn’t necessarily know that so he’s trying.

And of course it’s not the weirdest thing Arthur has caught Alfred doing. The weirdest thing was when Alfred was [censored] with his [censored] while [censored]-ing and trying to stand on his head at the same time.

I think the most difficult thing for them would be trying to hide their lifestyle from family, friends, and acquaintances. It is entirely possible that their family and American associates think Arthur’s wife is Amelia, because she actually is legally his wife. Their British friends and acquaintances know his wife to be Alice... and for some reason, in some places where they travel, people know that Arthur’s wife is certainly Alfred (in very convincing drag of course).

Could they have simply paired off in appropriately heterosexual ways and married to keep up appearances? Yes, of course.

But where would the fun be in that?

and one more thing >.> (nsfw-ish)

This poor broker and his wife have further cause to believe the house is haunted because after Alfred falls over and gives up, he’s all mussed and cute and sexy so Alice just can’t keep her hands off of him and the Kirklands must consult a spiritualist about that loudly moaning ghost! the broker’s wife claims. She knows someone reputable she can recommend.

After they’ve gone, Arthur and Amelia go back upstairs and Arthur’s about ready to give Alfred and Alice a piece of his mind, but there’s Alfred on his back on the floor, clearly having been fucked silly, and Alice cuddled smugly on top of him like the cat that got the canary and she’s like “Don’t look at me like that, you know you can’t resist him either.”

And she’s right so neither Arthur or Amelia even bother to try. Poor Alfred. *snerk*

He has to make it up to them somehow, since he ruined Amelia’s corset and Arthur is going to have to buy her a new one.

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

The Game of Camelot (Sat Upon His Throne, All Alone)

Part one of A dark AU for The Coming of Arthur Part 2 where Leon's loyalty is to the people of Camelot alone and he is willing to do anything to save Camelot from being ruled by a tyrannical monster, even if he becomes a monster himself in the process. This is also posted on my AO3 here. 

Warnings for this fic include: Major character death, Murder, Dark Leon, poisoning, nightmares, and hurt no comfort. Please be safe.

~~~

Leon prided himself on his loyalty. He considered himself a loyal knight of Camelot and so did everyone else. It's why no one ever suspected him. Why no one ever stopped to question how he got to where he was today. Why no one stopped to ask why he was king.

~~~

"Sir Leon is a traitor," was a sentence that had never been said by anyone in Camelot. And if anyone had been foolish enough to voice such a thing, they would have, at best, been laughed out of Camelot, and at worst, never left Camelot ever again. Because everyone knew that Leon would die for Camelot. He was loyal to his kingdom to the end.

The misconception was that while Leon was indeed loyal to Camelot, he did not have the same undying loyalty for his king. Uther Pendragon was a tyrant king who ruled with fear and death. He was irrational when it came to magic and his penalty against it was overzealous and extreme. His citizens had suffered under his rule for too long. Someone needed to ensure it ended, one way or another. 

Leon grew up with Morgana, had been her friend since before she became Uther’s ward. When he learned she had magic, he promised to protect her. When he learned about her plans to kill Uther, he pretended to have no idea. When he learned of her parentage and her desire to claim the throne for herself, Leon was supportive but uneasy. When he met Morgause, he faltered. When he learned of the lengths she went to try to kill Arthur by using Gwen and Elyan as bait, Leon's support became an act. Uther was a bad king and he didn't know what kind of king Arthur would be but Leon knew that Morgana would just be another Uther. He couldn't let that happen.

As far as Morgana was concerned, Leon was loyal to her. He made sure this was never in doubt. It could never be in doubt.

~~~

When Morgana told him to kill Arthur, Leon felt uneasy. Arthur was his prince and while he was Uther’s son he was not a bad man. Leon had no ill will towards him and was sincere in his loyalty to him. He didn't want to kill him.

When Morgana suggested he act defiantly when he was brought before Morgana in order to lure Gwen out to make her betray her true loyalties and help Leon escape to find Arthur so Leon could kill both of them at the same time, Leon thought he was going to be sick. She wanted him to kill both the prince and Gwen? Gwen, his childhood friend, his oldest friend? The kindest, sweetest person he has ever known, who wouldn't even hurt a fly? 

Leon wasn't sure he could do that. And yet, somehow, for the good of Camelot, he must.

~~~

There were eight of them. Eight people. Eight witnesses. Eight liabilities. Leon didn't want to kill eight people. Hell, he didn't want to kill the two people he had to kill. But Leon was a strategist. He knew the best shot he had of accomplishing his goal of liberating Camelot from tyranny and fear was to leave no one behind to reveal the treachery he was willing to commit to do it. He didn't want to kill these eight people but he would if he had to.

~~~

"'There is no one else I'd rather die for,'" Leon pledged and maybe what he was about to do would be easier if he was lying. But he wasn't. 

~~~

Leon wasn't comfortable with this. He had killed people before, sure, but in battle as a knight, and those he killed were his enemies. Tonight he would not be acting as a noble knight but as a traitorous assassin, slaughtering people that trusted him. People he knew. Leon didn���t know Merlin well, but he did know that there was more to Merlin that met the eye. He had long suspected that the servant had played at least some part in foiling some of the attacks on Arthur and Camelot over the years. For that alone, he liked Merlin, even before taking into account the boy’s dry wit. Leon liked Gaius as well. And Gwen and Elyan? They had grown up together. He considered them his friends. Hell, he thought of Gwen as his best friend. The whole reason Morgana lost his loyalty in the first place was her willingness to put the two of them in danger. And Arthur…Arthur wasn't his father. He was a good man, and Leon believed he could be a good king, but he also knew that Arthur was like his father in the one way that mattered: he distrusted magic. Leon would even go as far to say he hated it. There was the chance that Arthur may one day change his mind but Leon could not take the risk. There was only one way he could ensure that peace and magic would return to Camelot. In that moment, Leon made a decision he knew he would regret for the rest of his life. He just hoped he would be able to live with it.

~~~

Leon wouldn't call himself a coward. This is not cowardice, he thought, as he laced his companions' food with hemlock. This is not cowardice, he thought as they all began to show symptoms of poisoning. This is not cowardice, he reminded himself as he too pretended to fall ill. It is not cowardice, Leon repeated to himself as he faked a coughing fit while he closed Gaius’s unseeing eyes. This is not cowardice, he thought as he allowed himself to hold Gwen as she wept. This is not cowardice, he reminded himself as he listened to the last of his companions take their final rattling breath. No, he told himself when he opened his eyes and got to his feet, his act of afflicted and dying friend no longer necessary with no one else left alive to witness his deception and betrayal, this was not cowardice. Leon took in the result of his handy work and made himself look at each of them, to look at what he had done. This was kindness.

~~~

Leon knew he couldn't leave the bodies as they were. Morgana expected him to slaughter them, not poison them. He couldn't risk going against her expectations now. If she suspected anything was off, all would be lost and Leon's actions here would have been for nothing. He couldn't let their deaths be in vain. 

So Leon picked up a discarded sword with gold engravings that was not his own and, with a whispered plea for forgiveness, he hacked and slashed the bodies in a manner that mimicked an ambush. He started with the three men he didn't know very well, the three knights he had murdered before they ever had a chance to live up to their new titles. Then he moved on to Arthur, trying desperately not to think of the young boy Leon had trained to use a sword so long ago now as he cut the young man he had become into ribbons. 

When Leon looked down on Merlin, he swallowed roughly. When they all began to fall ill, Merlin had acted as a physician alongside Gaius, but as soon as Arthur had lost consciousness, Merlin threw caution to the wind. He had tried to heal him. He tried several times before he sat back on his heels and let out a broken sob. There was nothing he could do. That didn’t stop him from trying to heal Gaius. Or Lancelot. Or Gwen. With each new failure to even alleviate the symptoms, Merlin’s face crumbled more and his health flagged further. When Merlin approached Leon, the knight had jerked away before he could touch him, afraid not of Merlin, but that he might discover that Leon wasn’t actually dying like the rest of them. But of course, Merlin didn’t know that. He was a freshly outed sorcerer approaching a knight of Camelot who backed away out of fear. There was only one conclusion Merlin could draw. Like many things about that accursed day, Merlin’s expression when Leon backed away would haunt him forever.

Leon moved on to Gaius, taking a deep breath and stabbing once before quickly moving away. Which left him with only two more choices. 

Leon shut his eyes tightly. It was too late for remorse and regret. They were gone, dead. They weren't coming back. He killed them, murdered them, and nothing he did now could hurt them anymore. Of course it could still hurt him but he should have thought about that before he killed his only friends in the world.

Leon whispered a choked apology and raised the sword above his head.

~~~

Leon picked up his own sword and taking a steadying breath, slashed himself in the arm. He clenched his eyes tight against the pain and breathed through it. It wasn’t ideal, but he couldn’t return to Camelot without a mark on him, not with the version of events he planned to tell Morgana. It would also look far more convincing and believable to the knights and people of Camelot the story he planned to tell them. He just needed Morgana to agree to it. 

As he stabbed himself shallowly in the thigh, Leon went over in his head what he would tell Morgana: First he killed Arthur then Gwen and he was about to kill Gaius when Merlin woke up and raised the alarm. He killed Gaius and Merlin swiftly and one of the wanna be knights before the other three all started fighting him at once. They got a couple of lucky shots in but they were nothing against him. Hopefully, it would be enough to pass not only Morgana’s scrutiny, but Morgause’s as well.

~~~

When Leon was "recaptured" by Morgana’s men, Leon told her "what happened." She was pleased. And luckily, when Leon proposed to tell the people of Camelot that it was the immortal men that killed Arthur and his companion and it was only barely that Leon survived, Morgana agreed. And he didn't even need to suggest that he continue to pretend to despise her because she suggested it first. After all, it would look awfully suspicious if Leon was suddenly supportive of Morgana. She could lose the support of the other knights if they believed Leon a traitor or enchanted. And that was something neither of them wanted. 

~~~

The execution of Uther Pendragon was quite the public spectacle. Citizens filled the square, crowded around the large pyre in the middle. To the side, the surviving knights of Camelot were made to watch, each restrained on either side by one of the immortal soldiers. 

When Uther was brought out to the square, the crowd went silent. How far the king had fallen. In the end, his hate was his undoing. It was fitting that it was magic that killed him. From her balcony, Morgana put an end to Uther Pendragon with a flash of gold and a blaze of fire.

Leon’s only regret that day was he could not let his satisfaction show when Uther began to scream as the flames consumed him. Could not scoff at the tyrant’s shouted pleas for mercy. Could not smirk when the screams stopped, knowing what that meant. Could not cheer with relief and joy when the flames died away to reveal a very charred and very dead Uther. No, Leon could not do any of these things because he still had a role to play. Instead of satisfaction, Leon struggled against the soldiers holding him back. Instead of scoffing, he grimaced. Instead of smirking, he stopped struggling and slumped his shoulders in defeat. Instead of cheering, his eyes were wide with horror. Leon played his role very well, just as he always did. 

The tyrant was dead, long live the queen.

Well. Not long. Not if Leon had anything to say about it. 

~~~

Leon was a patient man. He served for years under Uther, a few months under Morgana in order to find a way to take out her and Morgause was easy. All the while, he continued to play the loyal knight to Morgana behind closed doors while acting as the reluctant first knight to an usurper queen in front of his fellow remaining knights and the people of Camelot. It was a dangerous line Leon walked. One misstep and he was dead.

In the end, his patience paid off. Once he learned that those who gave blood to the cup in exchange for immortality were cursed with an existence neither truly alive nor dead and emptying the cup would end those lives, Leon came up with a plan. It was risky and tricky and definitely a bit crazy, but it was the best chance Leon had of killing the sisters without dying himself. 

Getting the blood without them noticing was far easier than he expected and he never wanted to think about how he managed it ever again. Getting the blood to the guarded cup without arousing suspicion or getting killed by a pissed off priestess or an immortal soldier? That was the difficult part. Somehow, he managed to get to the cup in one piece. And somehow, he got the blood into the cup. And somehow, he managed to knock the cup over right as Morgana and Morgause barged in, spilling all the blood onto the floor before they could stop him.

Unlike the last batch of deaths he facilitated, Leon could not bring himself to feel remorse as the immortal soldiers exploded into nothingness around him, and he felt no grief as Morgana and Morgause followed suit, not even when Morgana’s eyes, wide with hurt and betrayal, locked with his before she ceased to be.

~~~

Leon sat upon his throne, crown heavy on his head as he looked out over his people, now his subjects. With Morgana and Morgause dead and no surviving Pendragons to take the throne, the beloved first knight that rid Camelot of Morgana was the obvious choice. 

The witch was dead, long live the king.

~~~

There was a secluded clearing in the woods where eight grave markers sat in a row. Every year, on every birthday, every holiday, and on the anniversary of their deaths, Leon would visit the graves. Sometimes he would talk, sometimes he’d stay silent. Most times, he cried. Every time, he left flowers. It was such a beautiful place for a shrine to the dead.

For the three men he had barely known, Leon searched and tracked down their names until he knew them: Gwaine, Lancelot, and Percival. Their birthdays were far more elusive so Leon picked a day for each of them and returned on that day every year. For Merlin, whose birthday was also unknown, he returned to the graves on the day he first met him. 

Sometimes the visits would be brief and other times they would last for hours. No matter how long Leon stayed it was never enough. No amount of time would ever be enough to atone for what he did. No amount of time could ever undo the damage he’d cause because it was time they never got to have.

~~~

Leon was called a fair and just king. His people loved him, and he loved them. And more importantly, they loved his queen. It wasn't long after he was crowned king of Camelot that Leon opened negotiations with King Rodor of Nemeth. The lands of Gedref had been disputed for generations. Leon agreed to give a majority of them to Nemeth in exchange for Princess Mithian's hand in marriage. Leon knew it would give him a powerful ally and would give him legitimacy in the eyes of the other kings. Rodor agreed. After they were wed, Leon waited. He had already stopped enforcing the ban against magic and stopped arresting and executing sorcerers, and now he welcomed the druids back to Camelot. When enough time had passed to get the people of Camelot used to magic again without fearing it, he made public a fact that he had known since before he asked Rodor for Mithian’s hand in marriage, a fact that few outside of Nemeth knew: Queen Mithian had magic. 

"People of Camelot, for over two decades magic has been persecuted and outlawed from our kingdom. And for over two decades the citizens of this kingdom have lived in fear. That fear ends today. Magic is not evil, it does not corrupt. I know this because I have yet to meet a kinder soul than that of my wife's. Queen Mithian is the sweetest person I know and she loves this kingdom as I do," Leon announced from the balcony overlooking the square where the people of Camelot were looking up at him. Whispers broke out among the crowd as they caught his meaning. Leon reached out a hand to Mithian, who took it with a warm smile. She was nervous about the announcement but he promised her he would let no harm come to her and she trusted him. "Your queen has magic. She has magic and she has only ever used it for good, to help people. Magic is not evil, it is a tool. Just as a sword is a tool for justice and protection in the hands of a knight but a tool for menace and terror in the hands of a bandit, the nature of magic depends on how it is used. For too long all those who dared use magic as a tool for any reason were punished. No more. From now on, magic is free in Camelot. Having and using magic is no longer a crime. But just as bandits are not welcome in Camelot, neither are those that use magic for harm. Crimes committed with magic will be treated the same as every other crime of that nature, and dark magic with the intent to harm others may be punishable by death. But those who use magic peacefully have nothing to fear. I hereby repeal the ban against magic in Camelot." 

~~~

Leon sat upon his throne, his wife by his side. He had done it. He freed his people from the rule of tyranny and fear. Magic was free. Camelot was free.

But Leon was not free and he knew he never would be. There was innocent blood on his hands, blood of people who trusted him, people he called his friends. 

Leon may have Mithian but she didn't know the truth about his rise to power. If she did, she would rip herself away from him in disgust and horror and look at him as if he were a monster. Then he would be truly and utterly alone. 

Leon sat on his throne with his Queen at his side. He may be lonely but he was not alone, not as long as he had her. And as long as he had her beside him and he had the people of Camelot to take care of, Leon would not become the monster he saw in his reflection. As long as he had them and he held onto his reason for becoming king in the first place, he would not succumb to his guilt. 

Leon had blood on his hands that he could never wash clean, skeletons in his closet he could never get rid of or share with anyone, and a monster in his reflection.

~~~

Leon jolted awake with a gasp, his body drenched in cold sweat. He let out a long sigh as his surroundings filtered in and he recognized Mithian sound asleep beside him. Quietly, so to not wake her, Leon eased out of bed. He had gotten a lot of practice over the years of shaking off the nightmares without bothering her. He walked over to a basin of water and without looking, he cupped some in his palms and splashed it over his face. Leon didn't need to think very hard to remember what his dream was about. It was the same thing it was always about. Tonight it was Elyan and Gwen that had taken the central role in his nightmare. 

Gwen was struggling to breathe, her eyes wide and panicked as she held her baby brother in her arms, his head cradled in her lap with his eyes half closed and his breathing growing steadily weaker and weaker. Elyan was dying. They were both dying, but there was no question who would go first. A jolt of guilt ran through Leon and as he stood looking down at his childhood friends whom he had condemned to death, a tear rolled down his face. Gwen’s head snapped towards him, her eyes hardening with hatred and betrayal. "You. You did this. Why, Leon? Why did you do this? How could you do this?" 

Leon shook his head sadly, another tear sliding down his face. "I had to, Gwen. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's for Camelot, I had to for Camelot. I had no other choice."

Gwen scoffed and narrowly avoided a coughing fit as a result. "'In life, you always have a choice. Sometimes it's easier to think that you don't,'" Gwen rasped angrily. "You chose this, Leon. You didn't have to kill us, but you did anyway. You chose this." She looked away from Leon and instead turned her gaze on Elyan, who had gone still in her arms. "Elyan? Elyan!" She shouted, shaking him to wake him. He didn't wake up. He couldn't. "No!" Gwen screamed in pure anguish.

Leon let out a shudder and splashed more water over his face to banish the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. It was only temporary. It was always just temporary. Leon was haunted by his actions in the castle of the ancient kings and the things he did that day would haunt him til the day he died. He would never be free of his guilt and he didn't deserve to be free of it. Gwen never knew it was him. If she had, she would have pushed him away when he sat down next to her with tears streaming down his face and held her as she sobbed over Elyan while dying herself. She wouldn't have clung onto his arm as if it would protect her and keep her afloat. Just as Elyan had died in her arms, Gwen had died in Leon’s. With his oldest friend dead, Leon had let himself collapse onto the floor and close his eyes, feigning severe illness himself. He had laid there listening to his victims die knowing he was responsible as Gwen grew cold beside him. Leon shook his head sharply and took a breath to steady himself. He let it out slowly, opening his eyes as he did so. His eyes found his reflections' in the still water of the basin. For just a split second, his reflection changed and the person he was seeing was not himself, but Uther Pendragon. Leon blinked tiredly and when he looked again his reflection was his own again. Leon’s hands curled into fists as he looked at his reflection. Uther Pendragon was a monster and a tyrant king. He deserved to die. Leon still believed this and never once had his conviction wavered on this stance. Uther had so much innocent blood on his hands he was drenched in it. The world was a better place without that monster in it. It troubled Leon but didn't surprise him when he caught a glimpse of the long dead king in his own reflection. After all, Leon was a monster too, with hands crimson with innocent blood, blood belonging to his friends. In many ways, Leon considered himself more of a monster than Uther ever was. For Uther Pendragon was driven by hate and anger. The murders he committed came from hatred and self righteousness. He thought his actions were justified and right. Leon was driven by love and determination. Leon murdered eight people who never did him any harm, five of whom he considered friends, when he knew doing so was wrong. They did not deserve to die, there was nothing just or right about it and Leon regretted his actions every day of his life. He hated himself for it because he knew he would do it again. He knew what he did was wrong but it was necessary to save Camelot and it's people and he would do it again if he had to. That's what made him the bigger monster.

~~~

King Leon sat on his throne, lonely, but not alone. He was a monster and that fact was unknown.

King Leon sat on his throne, lonely, but not alone. He now had children and was slowly growing old.

King Leon lay in bed, dying, frail, and old, but never alone. Leon’s eyes drifted closed and all his sins remained unknown.

[banditthewriter]

Letting Go - Tommy Shelby

Prompt: Request for Tommy ShelbyxReader, "the thing they hated the most was that they couldn't hate him at all" and someone rescues the other Prompter: @lucdarling​

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The incessant knocking on your door made you frown. As much as you wanted to ignore whoever it was in favor of the book in your hand, you knew it would be a bad idea. Whoever it was obviously had something important on their mind for them to bang on your door as if the devil himself was after them.

You moved through the living room and into the foyer. Then you finally opened the door and quieted the noise that had startled you from your reprieve. 

Had you thought the devil himself was after the person on your stoop? You had been mistaken. It seemed to be the devil himself on your stoop.

“Tommy Shelby, as I live and breathe,” you said with a sigh as you stared at the man half slumped against the wall next to your door. “What are you… are you bleeding?”

He looked down at himself and then back up at you.

“It’s not all mine. Can I come in?”

Ordinarily you would turn him away, let him face the consequences of whatever actions had brought this on. You had shut the door on him more than once in the time you’d been acquainted with the man.

However he had never come to you covered in blood before. With a sigh, you opened the door wider to let him in.

“Try not to bleed on the carpet. I’ll go fetch some towels. And maybe some first aid,” you added as an afterthought before you went to the back of your flat.

At least you lived alone. You’d hate to have to explain to anyone else why the head of the Peaky Blinders was in the foyer dripping blood on the entryway. Mostly because you weren’t sure why he was there.

With everything gathered, you pointed him in the direction of the kitchen and set off behind him.

“Do I want to know why this is how you decide to show up on my doorstep?”

“Thought flowers might have been a bit cliche,” he said with a grunt as he sat down in a chair. 

The look you leveled him with would have made a lesser man cower. But no one had ever accused Tommy of being a lesser man.

You set to work on making sure any of his injuries weren’t life threatening. As you knelt down beside the chair, you were reminded of the first time you’d done this for him. He’d come to you with blood dripping down his face, a manic look in his eyes. You had patched him up and sent him to bed to sleep it off.

Except you ended up in bed with him that night. And every night after that. 

That wasn’t going to happen this time.

“Wonder what the other guy looks like,” you said as you passed a cloth over his busted knuckles.

“I’m sure he’s still in the alley where I dumped him,” he admitted casually.

When you looked up at him to tell him off for that flippant remark, you found yourself staring up into those twin pools of ice that he called eyes. You’d always felt uncentered when he was around, but this was worse somehow. You cleared your throat and looked back down to his hand.

The hand that used to hold yours so gently. Or that he’d trace over the curve of your hip in bed, the covers discarded so the two of you could see each other. That hand had held you close, soothed you, brought you to heights of pleasure you’d only ever dreamed about.

It had also caused bloodshed and pain, had shook before it went through the wall of the flat you had lived in at the time. 

“As always, Tommy, pain and misery follows your very footsteps. It’s no wonder you haven’t ended up in a ditch yourself.”

His eyes felt like a physical presence on your face.

“I’ve been in worse places than a ditch.”

You passed a hand over your face, fingers pressed into your eye socket to relieve some pressure there. Had you had a headache before he showed up? Somehow you doubted it.

“I want you to leave,” you said as you stood up, a cloth dropping from your hand to the floor without a care. “You’re obviously not dying, I’ve stopped the bleeding. You’re in one piece so leave.”

He stared up at you for a long moment in which you tried to force yourself not to show him how hurt you were right then. How much you wanted to scream at him and beg him to just end it, to let you go.

Every time you thought you might be ready to get over him, he showed back up and dragged you right back in. You hated it. You hated him.

You hated how much you didn’t hate him.

He stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You thought he’d move around you to head to the door like you had told him, but he just stepped into your space. When you opened your mouth to repeat the demand that he leave, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss.

It wasn’t demanding or harsh, not at all like the last kiss you shared with him. This was soft and gentle and every bit the type of kiss that made you fall in love with him the first time.

“Stop,” you whispered against his lips even as your hands clutched on his shoulders to draw him closer, “please don’t put me through this again.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, both of you forced to breathe heavy after that kiss. Then he pulled away and moved around you towards the door.

When you heard it shut behind him, you sank to your knees in the middle of your kitchen. There was specks of blood on the floor, a wash bowl with a bloody cloth on the edge of it. And then there was your lips which had been set on fire with the briefest touch from the man you wanted to hate.

You wanted to hate him, needed it, but you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to.

The reveal that Tommy had sought you out on purpose so that he could use your money and your connections for his own benefit had nearly killed you. You had watched the light drain from behind his eyes as the words were hurled at him, meant to hurt him the way he had hurt you. The only thing that you could do in retaliation is make sure he would never get his hands on the resources he needed.

Months passed and every time you started to get over him, he was there again. Usually the two of you just ran into each other in passing, at a restaurant or in the street. This was the first time he’d come to your home.

You wished he had just kept walking. You were pretty sure one of his guys lived a few doors down, he could have gone there. Why had he come to you?

Why had he kissed you?

Why couldn’t you let him go?

------

Tommy had told you that while he had originally sought you out to use you, he had fallen in love with you. He had demanded that you believe him, that you trust the man he had become, not the man he was. That was the night that he put his fist through the wall of your old flat. 

You told him to get out, to never come back. You might have even told him that he was dead to you.

His fist had gone through the wall and then you were alone. You spent the rest of the night packing a bag with the intention of leaving and never coming back.

But you did come back. Birmingham was in your blood and you refused to be run off from your home.

Part of you wanted to believe that Tommy had really loved you. You remembered the nights where you were curled up in bed and whispering your deepest secrets to one another. He told you about his fears and wants, about the nightmares that haunted him after the war, the weight of his family on his shoulders. You told him about your insecurities, the fear that you would never amount to more than your last name, the things you wanted to accomplish. 

It had to be real, at least part of it. You refused to believe that he could have faked it all for that long.

You walked through the streets of Small Heath with your head held high. If people knew why you were no longer with Tommy, no one seemed to treat you any differently. 

The Peaky Blinders all treated you with the same respect that they always did. Even John and Arthur still treated you like you were with their brother.

As angry as you were with Tommy, you still knew that he was the only one you could go to when you were in trouble. And you were definitely in trouble.

There might have been someone in the office but you didn’t wait. You pushed the door open the moment you were there, Tommy was at the desk. Whoever he was expecting, you could tell that he didn’t expect you to be the one to burst in. 

He said your name in that low voice of his and your knees almost buckled. Almost. You made your way over to his desk. Carefully you pulled the paper from your bag and passed it over to him. 

“What’s this?”

You didn’t say anything, just waited. After a beat of silence, he unfolded the paper. You knew the moment when he read the part that had you worried.

“Where did you find this?”

“On my kitchen table when I got home from the shops,” you said as you sat down in the chair across from him. “I guess they wanted me to know that they could get to me, that I wasn’t safe.” 

If they wanted to scare you, they had succeeded. Tommy folded the paper and put it on the desk. You almost reached out for it, but you kept your hands in your lap.

“Did you bring it here because you think it’s from me?”

You were surprised at that, but maybe you shouldn’t be. Hadn’t you told him that you didn’t know what he was capable of?

That was still true, but you knew he wasn’t capable of this.

“I brought it here because… I hoped you might help me. I know who it’s from and I know what they want. And as the letter says, I know that they’ll kill to get what they want.”

Tommy crossed over from his seat to where you were sitting. He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours. You could see the healed scrapes that you had bandaged a week before in your kitchen.

He had kissed you a week ago. Was it only a week ago?

“Tell me who it is and I’ll make sure they never harm you. You can hate me, but I will keep you safe.”

You felt as if you couldn’t breathe. Even through all of this, he was willing to kill for you. Even believing that you hated him, he would protect you.

You didn’t hesitate to give him the names of the men who were after you. You trusted Tommy to do what had to be done.

------

It had been decided that you would stay at Tommy’s place since obviously your flat was compromised. Polly had barely given you a look when Tommy had escorted you in and up to his room. Then he told you that he’d have it dealt with soon.

A few hours had passed and you spent those few hours looking around the room that you had spent so much time before. There were still photos of the two of you littered around his room. One of your dresses was draped over a chair, just like you had left it. Your mirror and some hair pins sat on the dresser like you’d be back any moment to get ready.

You were gone, but he hadn’t let you go. 

When Tommy came in, he looked as pristine as he had when he had left. No drop of blood, no ruffled hair. He made his way over to you as he explained that they were dealt with, they were gone, they would never hurt you, they were–

Your lips crashed against his while he spoke, your hands already pushing his jacket over his shoulders and onto the ground. His hands went to your hips, your arms, your back, into your hair. He needed you as much as you needed him.

After both of you were pleasured and spent, you propped yourself up on his chest. Those ice blue eyes bore into yours, a million silent questions running through them.

And you needed to answer as many as you could. You owed that to him.

“I never hated you,” you admitted as you traced a finger over the sun on his chest. “I wanted to, told myself that I did, but truthfully I was never able to hate you. I love you too much to be able to hate you.”

His eyes widened. You gave a nod and leaned in again, your lips finding his easily.

“You love me? Still?”

It was impossible, but you did. Maybe that was your cross to bear, the albatross around your neck. You would love this man no matter what he did.

“It’s like you said, I have to trust the man you’ve become, not the one you were. And the man you are? Well, you killed people just for threatening me. Even though I’ve been punishing you for months.”

He rolled the two of you over so that he could wrap himself around you.

“I’d kill anyone that so much as looked at you wrong. If you wanted me to,” he amended when he saw the faux stern look you gave him. Then seriously, “I fell in love with you as easily as breathing. In love, out of chances. And I will always keep you safe.”

You cupped his cheek and pulled him in for another kiss. You should mind that you had fallen for this man, but you didn’t mind the devil inside of him. His inner demons seemed to embrace you as one of theirs and you never wanted him to let go.

“You’re safe with me,” he promised against your lips.

And you were. Somehow you knew that you were safe with him.

X

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[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 12

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 12: Tommy makes drastic decisions while Leah finds out where she stands with him.

         "Tommy, I don't know if I should be here," Leah said quietly to him as he sat himself down behind the desk. The rest of the Shelby family began to filter in. "If this is a family matter..."

           He cleared his throat and reached for a cigarette. "You're practically family now."

           That was debatable to her. She enjoyed Tommy's family; they never gave her a fuss. Ada was always kind as was Polly. His brothers were rough around the edges but they were in good spirits just as Jonah had written all those years ago. But there would always be something holding Leah back from feeling like she was a part of the Shelby family.

           "Perhaps I should go wait upstairs with Charlie instead."

           Tommy was quiet for a moment. He pondered the suggestion with his cigarette. "Right, you can go upstairs." He agreed. If she didn't feel comfortable at the meeting then he wouldn't make her stay. "This won't take too long." His eyes fell to Arthur and John.

           "Alright." Something in the atmosphere of the room felt a little strange. But Leah couldn't place what it was. Instead, she kissed Tommy's temple before leaving. He felt like a stone.

~~~~~~~~

           Leah went upstairs to Charlie's room. She played with him to distract herself from the tense feeling she had in the big room.

           "What's that?" She placed his toy car on the floor in front of him.

           The toddler picked up the toy and smiled. "Car!" He chirped proudly.

           She smiled warmly. "Such a smart little boy." There was a lingering thought she'd been having for a few weeks. The idea that she wanted to see Charlie grow. It was a natural reaction to caring for the child for an extended period of time. She could imagine it was exactly how Grace once felt. She simply wanted to see her son grow up.

           Charlie leaned forward and grabbed the hem of Leah's skirt to grab her attention. "Lee!" He waved the car about in the air. "Car!"

           "That's right." She held out her hand so he could wrap his little fingers around hers.

           "Mumma."

           "Hm? Oh, yes, Mummy's over there." She pointed to the side table by Charlie's crib. There, Grace's photograph sat after Leah asked Tommy if she could move it to the baby's room.

           Charlie stared at her with his big eyes. "Mumma." He tugged at her hand.

           "Want me to go get the picture?" Leah stood and retrieved the silver frame. She carefully placed it in his hands.

           He stared at the picture of the woman he was slowly forgetting. Each memory he had of her, slipping away every day he grew just a little bit older. Then, he looked up at the woman who had been there for what felt like ages in Charlie's young mind. "Mumma." He pointed at Leah.

           "No, that's your mum." She redirected his gaze to the picture again. A feeling of guilt crept up on her and she tried her best to reinforce Grace's presence.

           Confused, Charlie furrowed his brow and stared at Grace. He returned the picture to Leah's hands, not sure what to make of it. His short attention span turning back to his toys.

           Leah stood again and placed the picture back on the table. As she did, she began to hear shouting from downstairs. It was faint at first but it grew louder. Not sure how Shelby meetings usually went, she wasn't sure whether to be concerned or not.

           "We'll fucking hang!"

           Leah was startled by the words and hurried to the door.

           "Lee!" Charlie stumbled to his feet and waddled over to her.

           "Sh, sh, it's okay." She scooped the boy up, resting him on her hip. Loud footsteps stormed into the house and the shouting only got more out of hand. Afraid, she went to the top of the stairs and saw Arrow House had erupted into chaos.

           Police had rushed the house and began to arrest the Shelby family members. The brothers kicked off, shouting at Tommy, their wives screaming angrily. Leah stood frozen, horrified and confused at the scene below.

           "I've made a deal with people even more powerful than our enemies." Tommy's voice could be heard above the fray. He walked out of his office while the officers were dragging his family out of the home.

           And just like that, it was all over. Everyone had been removed and driven away.

           Shaking slightly, Leah walked downstairs with Charlie. The little boy was whimpering fearfully and clinging to her.

           Tommy was standing in front of the open doors, watching the last paddy wagon pulling off.

           "Tom?" Leah's voice quivered. "What've you done?"

           He turned around and walked over to her. "You wouldn't understand. I needed to make sacrifices to keep everyone safe." He ran a thumb over Charlie's cheek to soothe him.

           "W-will they be alright? You're going to get them out, aren't you?" She whispered.

           "It'll take some time." Tommy nodded. "But yes."

           A chill came in through the open doors. The day seemed gray and Leah realized her bad feeling from earlier had been warranted. "What will happen to you?"

           "Everything will be alright. We'll be fine, aye?" He rested a hand on her hip.

           "I still don't understand." She didn't know how or why he'd done such a thing to his own family.

           "I wish I could explain everything to you." Mixed emotions crossed his face. He needed to be certain that everything would work out according to his plan. It was far too late to doubt himself.

           Leah nodded silently. She stepped closer to him and wrapped an arm around him. Tommy hugged her and Charlie close, his back to the open door.

~~~~~~~~

           A month after the police raid, Leah was still in Warwickshire. She couldn't find the strength to leave. She'd grown too attached to Charlie and was too in love with Tommy. However, she'd seen a change in the man after what he'd done.

           He worked behind open doors and often traveled to attend meetings. It was difficult to keep the business running without his family's help. But he always returned to his son and the woman he intended to marry.

~~~~~~~

           Friday, Tommy arrived home earlier than expected. When Leah went downstairs to greet him, Charlie at her heels, she saw the vardo outside.

           "I thought you wouldn't be home till tomorrow?" Leah asked when he kissed her cheek and picked up Charlie.

           "Canceled a meeting. I was thinking you'd like to go on a little trip with me?" He wondered.

           Leah's parents often took her camping during the summer holidays so she wasn't afraid of roughing it in the English countryside. "Okay." She agreed. "Where would we be going?"

           "There's a woman I need to speak with. She's a traveler but I know her usual whereabouts." He answered. "Shouldn't take more than two weeks."

           Leah silently hoped it would take the full two weeks. She'd been extremely concerned about Tommy. He hardly ever spoke about business to her. Never told her who his meetings were with or what they about. Never spoke about his family, although Leah knew from Ada that John, Arthur, Michael, and Polly were all still in prison for murder. She worried about them.

           She also worried about Tommy. Every night he was in Warwickshire, she had to remind him what time it was. Even then, he wouldn't go to bed. Instead, working right through the night and into the morning, surviving off of whiskey and cigarettes.

           Leah hoped that the journey would be good for his health. "And we'll bring Charlie along?"

           He nodded. "I'm sure he'll enjoy time outside."

           She smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks. "I'll pack a bag then."

           It was a completely different side to Tommy, one Leah never knew existed. She’d been so used to the man who always wore three-piece suits and appreciated luxury items. But it didn’t matter if he had everything he had always wanted as a child. He was still a Traveler by blood and would never forget that.

           But it was still obvious that he was troubled. He tried to keep up a stoic front but Leah could see the thoughts racing in his mind. She couldn’t blame him for feeling so unnerved, but she had to give him credit for what happened to his family. He had orchestrated everything. Whether or not it was for the greater good or not wasn’t for Leah to decide.

           They found Bethany Boswell a day after they arrived in Wales. Tommy asked Leah to stay behind with Charlie while he approached her. The meadow they met in was open so Leah could see them speaking but couldn’t hear anything.

           It felt strange not knowing so much about Tommy’s business dealings. Leah wasn’t sure whether she should be more assertive and demand he disclose that information to her. In reality, she didn’t know whether she wanted know or if it would really change her view on him. She knew he did bad things; she had done bad things as well. There was a huge period of time after Jonah’s death that Tommy didn’t know much about. He didn’t know the things she’d done to stay alive.

           What she wasn’t unsure about was her love for him. Perhaps she was foolish and didn’t realize that one day she might have to pay the price of loving him. The price that most people in Tommy Shelby’s life paid. Sometimes with their life, sometimes with their freedom. Why should she be spared?

           They camped that night by a lake in Wales. Tommy hadn’t mentioned anything about what he spoke to Bethany about. He simply put Charlie to bed, kept the fire going, and checked on the horses every so often.

           Leah stayed up with him, her mind too active to sleep. She curled up by the fire, wrapped in a fur blanket. Tommy sat beside her, smoking and watching the sparks pop and fly out of the flames. His hand kept fidgeting, tucking into the pocket on the inside of his coat.

           She felt guilty for doubting him so much in the past few weeks. She was sure that he was taking on enough of a burden for what he did.

           “Tom?” Her voice disrupted the quiet sounds of the nocturnal creatures around them.

           “Hm?” He didn’t look at her, too consumed with his thoughts. Had he done the right thing? Would his family ever forgive him? Did he deserve to be forgiven? Would this be enough to silence his enemies? Would any of it be worth it?

           Leah’s warm hand touched his cheek and guided his gaze to her. Almost instantly, the anxious thoughts in his head quieted. “I’m worried about you.”

           He reached up and rested his hand over hers. “I know. I’m sorry, things aren’t good right now.” He agreed.

           “They’ll get better, won’t they?”

           “Yes.” He needed to be confident with his decision or things would fall through. With a heavy sigh, he stood up. “Can you swim?” He asked.

           “Not very well, but yes.” She nodded with a confused look. “Why?”

           “Need to clear me head.” He answered vaguely and began to unbutton his shirt.

           Leah’s eyes went to the lake and she laughed quietly. “Are you mad? It must be freezing.” She replied.

           “Good way to clear your head.” A faint smile formed on his lips. He stripped down to his boxers and walked away from the fire, heading for the lake’s bank. “Stay by the fire if you’d like.” His tone was a little taunting and Leah rolled her eyes.

           She stood and folded the blanket. She left it on the steps of the vardo, peeking inside to make sure Charlie was still asleep. Turning, she heard Tommy enter the water with a small splash, diving under for a moment. She walked over to the edge of the lake, waiting for him to resurface.

           The moon was bright, uninhibited by clouds and it cast a crisp glow over the small lake. The colors of the world had bled and faded, resulting in what looked like the scene in a movie picture.

           Tommy’s black hair reappeared a few feet away and the moon highlighted his pale skin. He pushed his hair from his face and looked out to Leah. “Not that cold.”

           Leah sighed and began to remove her blouse and skirt. She could feel Tommy’s blue eyes on her when she stepped into the water clad in only her undergarments. It was colder than she would’ve liked but could be tolerated after fully submerging.

           Tommy swam over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kept his feet on the mossy stones covering the bottom of the lake. His eyes were electric in the pale moonlight, almost glowing. “Would you like to know what I was speaking with Bethany about?”

           It was completely out of the blue and Leah wasn’t expecting it. “If it’s your business, then don’t feel like you have to tell me. I respect your privacy.”

           He chuckled softly and dragged his fingers up her bare spine, catching on the water droplets. “You treat me like you work for me sometimes.”

           A blush spread over Leah’s cheeks. “Sorry, I know I don’t fit in sometimes.”

           “You fit in just fine.” He assured her. “You’re just unsure of yourself.” He pressed his forehead to hers and let out a slow breath. “I brought Bethany a ring to make sure it was free of any bad luck. It’s for you.”

           Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh, Tommy, you didn’t have to get me anything. There’s no reason…”

           “I would think a proposal would be a good enough reason.” He replied.

           “Proposal?”

           “Leah, would you consider marrying me?” His tone was serious but eyes were filled with hope.

           “Tom…”

           “I know this isn’t a orthodox situation.” He prefaced before she could decide on a whim. “But I love you and I want Charlie to have someone like you in his life. He deserves that much. And I feel like you’ve brought me back to life, even when I was at my lowest.”

           Leah swallowed and cupped his cheek with her hand. “I love you.” She insisted.

           “But you don’t want to marry me.” He could hear the doubt in her voice. Although he wanted nothing more than to be hers, he knew he didn’t deserve someone like her. She was far too gentle and patient for a man like him.

           “That’s not it. I just don’t know if I’m right for you. Or right for Charlie.” She chewed on her lip and averted her eyes from his.

           “You’re afraid of me, afraid of what I’ve done.” He leaned into her touch. At least he could have this last night with her if she truly wanted to leave.

           “No.” She shook her head. “Should I be?”

           “Would never hurt you. Would do everything I can to protect you. Lee,” He tilted her chin up. “I just want you as you are.”

           “You really want to marry me?” Her eyes finally returned to his.

           “Yes, of course.”

           She waited in silence for a moment before kissing him. Her hand pressed into the back of his neck to keep him close. Her touch was needy and quick.    

           He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, slowing her down, wanting to savor the moment. She kept him on the edge, waiting for her decision while they kissed.

           After what felt like ages, she drew away and nodded. “I’ll marry you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      “She’ll throw me, Tommy, I know she will.”

           “She’s harmless, wouldn’t put you on a horse that would throw you,” Tommy assured her and walked the gentle mare over.

           They were back at Arrow House after the trip to Wales. Tommy’s spirits had lifted considerably after Leah agreed to marry him. It made him much more confident that he would be able to restore his family to the way it used to be.

           “I’m sure she’s sweet but…” Leah sighed and chewed on her lip. “Promise you won’t let me fall?”

           Tommy stopped in front of her, reins in hand. It was a beautiful day in the countryside and he offered to teach Leah how to ride. The groom had tacked up the ten-year-old mare that had been retired off the track for years. A beautiful roan that hardly ever spooked at anything. “I’ll be right beside you.” He nodded.

           She took a deep breath. She’d gotten more accustomed to the horses on the grounds. Charlie went to visit them every single day. Although the little boy was a little braver than she was when it came to the large beasts. It took some convincing to even consider getting up on a horse.

           “I’ll give you a boost.” Tommy offered and held out a hand.

           Leah walked over and carefully stroked the mare’s shoulder. “Hello, Molly.” She said softly. “Go easy on me.”

           “I’ll push you up by your knee,” Tommy explained. “Go on three.”

           Leah took hold of the saddle and rested her knee in Tommy’s hand. On the count of three, he helped boost her up into the saddle, grabbing her leg to make sure she didn’t over jump and slip off the other side.

           “Oh boy…” Leah laughed nervously. “A lot higher up than I thought.”

           “You’re alright, I won’t let go.” He assured her and helped adjust the stirrups’ length. “Better being out here than inside, aye?” He checked the girth and handed her the reins.

           “It is a nice day.” She agreed and nervously took hold of the reins.

           “Thumb on top, that’s it.” Tommy caught sight of the engagement ring on her hand. It gave him a feeling of pride and joy that he cherished during those tough weeks after his family’s arrest. “Alright,” He clicked his tongue. “Walk on, Molly.”

           Leah’s fingers tightened around the reins when the mare began to plod on at a slow walk. Tommy kept an easy stride with them.

           “See you’ll be galloping ‘round before you know it.” Tommy smiled up at her.

           “Oh, I don’t know about that.” She laughed nervously. “Better take it slow.”

           It was stunning to see the differences that made them so compatible. Tommy couldn’t remember the first time he’d ever ridden a horse. Most likely his family of Travelers chucked him up on one the second he could walk. But he was reckless as young as he could remember. He’d suffered a few brutal falls for being so sure of himself and always wanting to go faster.

           He always wanted more out of life and Leah was content to take her time and be patient. For so long she wasn’t given the privilege of being able to take her time. Life seemed to be a never-ending cycle of sleeping during the morning and entertaining strangers at night. Not once could she ask for time off or to be given a break. Now, Tommy gave her the opportunity to truly find her identity again.

           Despite their differences, Leah did her best to keep Tommy’s anxiety and stress under control to a certain extent. Of course, there wasn’t much she could do when he was away for work but when he returned back to Arrow House, she offered him a haven. A place to escape everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Summer faded and one day, Tommy announced that Polly, Arthur, John, and Michael were all out of prison. He didn’t tell her that they were half a second from been hung. Despite this news, the family still seemed to be shattered beyond repair. Tommy didn’t like talking about it much.

           Arthur and John had moved out to the country and refused to speak to Tommy. Polly was lost in the tablets and suffering greatly from the trauma she’d met with. Michael and Ada were the only ones who stuck around.

           Leah knew that Tommy pretended not to care. If they couldn’t see the good he’d done for the family then that was on him. But it was obvious he was deeply troubled by the rift in the family and company.

           The upcoming holidays didn’t make anything easier. The large house seemed so lonely with just the three of them, and then just the two of them when Tommy was away for business. Leah could feel him drifting away. She assumed everything would remain strong, especially after the engagement. But once the weather changed, Tommy became cold as well.

           Leah assumed it was just because of the family issues. There wasn’t much she could do to remedy it because he never spoke of it, all she could do was just try and be there for him when he needed her. But he stopped needing her or at least pretended he didn’t need her.

           On rare occasions, he was home, he often wandered upstairs to the end bedroom. The door that was always locked.

           Leah passed by it a few times, only guessing what could be inside. One night, she was restless. Tommy was home but hadn’t even attempted to sleep. She’d heard him wandering around downstairs for a bit. Kept her ears open to listen to every footstep he took. Eventually, she heard him travel upstairs but he walked right past their bedroom. She could smell his cigarette smoke and became a little annoyed. Normally, she tolerated his behavior. Let him sulk about the house, smoking, drinking, and hardly ever sleeping.          

           But it had just gotten worse. Leah was starting to wonder if he could ever pull himself out of such a mood.

           Deciding enough was enough and she deserved a little bit of explanation from the man she intended to marry, Leah got out of bed. She wrapped herself in a dressing gown and walked down the hall, following the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. The light in the last bedroom was on so she knocked on the door.

           There was a pause of silence. No footsteps and no words. But eventually, Tommy opened the door for his fiancee.

           He locked eyes with her and waited. He’d been waiting for that day. The day Leah would get tired of his attitude. Whether it was self-destructive tendencies or just a cycle, Tommy knew it was inevitable.

           Leah didn’t want to be angry with him. She wanted to understand why he was torturing himself. Certainly, he had to be miserable but he continued on. “Can I come in?” She asked quietly.

           “No.” He answered flatly.

           Although it wasn’t the response she was expecting, she tried to take it with stride. With a deep breath, she continued on. “This was the room you shared with Grace.” She surmised.

           He nodded slowly.

           “Then I’ll stay out here.” She didn’t mind the restriction. If he wanted to keep the room as it was, he could do just that. She wouldn’t intrude or pretend he was being foolish for wanting to keep that memory of her.

           Tommy rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment. Although she was patient, he half expected her to demand to enter the room. Maybe he wanted her to yell at him. Give him hell for all the hell she put her through. It would ease him a little of his guilt.

           “You miss her?” She asked softly.

           He kept behind the door, the clear line drawn between him and Leah. “I miss everyone.” The words came out before he could stifle them.

           “Of course you do, Tommy.” She murmured and longed to embrace him but stayed in the hallway. “But there are people who love you, people in your family who are still alive and love you. Sometimes you can’t hold onto the people who are gone.”

           Tommy’s entire body was tense. He wanted to argue with her, wanted to tell her she was wrong. He could hold onto Grace, his mother, Greta, the friends he’d lost, hell he could hold onto his father if he damn well wanted to.

           “If you’re holding onto people who are gone then you’re missing out on the people who are alive.” She insisted. “Please, I just want the best for you. It hurts so much to see you like this.”

           “Then why do you stay?” He confronted her with the question that had been haunting him for so long. “Why did you say yes?”

           Leah swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself for comfort. “Because I love you. I think you’re a good man even if you don’t believe it yourself.”

           He took a step back and finished his cigarette. Drifting away.

           “Why did you ask me to marry you if you didn’t want me to say yes?” Leah turned the question back on him. Dread was starting to seep through her bones and her heart began to ache.

           He didn’t answer and his eyes didn’t meet hers.

           “Tommy.” She refused to walk away from him. “Please, you’re breaking my heart.” All she could do was try and extend words out to him instead of reaching out.

           “I do that.” He muttered.

           “You’re only trying to hurt yourself, Tommy.” She was too upset to be patient anymore. “Everything you do to push away the people who truly love you…I-I don’t get it. Why do you keep opening up old wounds? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

           Tommy rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was so tired. Couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got a full night’s sleep. “Lee…” He finally stepped out of Grace’s room and shut the door.

           “Answer me.” She insisted. “I don’t understand why. You just want to hurt yourself and I-I can’t stand it. I don’t want to watch you hurt yourself!”

           “I’ll try to be better.” He stepped towards her.

           “It’s not about being better, Tom, it’s about allowing yourself to be loved by other people. Sometimes I feel you don’t want me to love you. You don’t want your family to love you. And I don’t get it. How am I supposed to love a man who doesn’t want to be loved?”

           “Lee.” He tried to touch her waist and pull her close.

           She pulled away from him and shook her head firmly. “No, don’t touch me. Not if you’re just trying to patronize me.” Hurriedly, she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I’m tired, Tommy, I’m so tired. Maybe I don’t totally understand what’s going on. Maybe I have no right to say anything but…” She sighed and her shoulders drooped with defeat. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” She finally admitted.

           Tommy stared at her quietly for a few moments. “I’m sorry. Maybe I don’t know what to do anymore either.”

           Leah just shook her head and turned away from him. There wasn’t anything else to say to him. She returned to the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

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NNT SPOILERS

-

Notes:

This is what I have written of the prologue for a Nanatsu fanfic - which I will upload soon, I hope - with which I won the local literature contest, although I will possibly modify it to be a little experiment with a new format of "" novel "". I'm still writing the first episode, but it's already pretty fun to write. It's my fix-it fanfic and I choose what gives me comfort lmfao. :)

It's not on it's fully potential tho' but anyway I was... well,,, I just want it to....probably I'll delete later lol.

Enjoy, ¿I guess?

-

At first, she didn't notice them. Not until the consequences were very striking. She had to help Arthur as her ward, she had consumed too much effort toward this experiment to fail now. That had kept her entertained, although that beautiful ending of hers would soon change. Arthur was adjusting well to the ruling, she expected no less from her tutelage. He was noble and honourable, although he was still somewhat innocent a quality that almost disappeared during the holy war. There wasn't a lot of things she valued, but that was one of the things she still allowed herself to look longingly at, still, her decision was already made. She had chosen Arthur, for so long, throughout the war... That was her purpose, that was what filled her. The prophecy of that King able to unite and rule Britannia. She did what she had to do and she didn't regret doing it. She didn't.

Her hand came to rest on her face. She didn't regret the people she had left out. And so she chose Arthur. "The memorial would be soon", she thought as she ran her fingers across her jaw. She wondered if someone would come. Definitely none of the deadly sins, not after that outcome. So this time she would likely go alone, as she had been all her life. Not that one-off company, the seven deadly sins, not the one who always knew how to see right through her. Escanor. It was ironic, every time she saw her marks she felt a warmness expand through her body, comforting her haunting guilt. She didn't remember the exact words he said to her in his last moments, but there was always the same disturbing feeling in the memory. Useless. She couldn't remember if she had ever felt that way. There were always firsts times, she supposed, even for a person who had lived 3000 years. Sometimes things that make the least sense can be the answer. In this case, the answer to why her triumph had been so unsatisfactory. Normally when she had filled her curiosity a shot of pleasure ran through her veins. The pleasure of knowing. It was her only addiction, her way of living. Since she was little, following the example of her distant father. Until she met Meliodas. Some might believe that she didn't have a heart however it was not true, her pulse was as alive as the blood that ran through her veins. Although of course, the metaphorical one... The right person but at the wrong time, too late. Isn't it ironic? But it was over now, Isn't it?

Her gaze fell on the book. King and Diane had thought that she was the one who should have it, in the end, all those poems were for a single owner: her. After his words, both of their words. She could afford these thoughts, it was his day after all.

She wondered how many would come, of course, there would be at least 3 of them missing.

She brought her hands to the handkerchief, putting on the piece of cloth. She didn't usually allow people to see her like this. With the passage of days, the absence of him, those burns were something more intimate. Like his poems, this was the first, last and the only poem she dedicated to him. Only to him. She would treat them as such, also she didn't want to waste time with looks from those ignorant who didn't understand their meaning. Few people could.

She closed her eyes. With the actual circumstances, it would be difficult to pass by without being seen. But still, she arrived just before noon, the sun right in the middle of the sky. Rhitta was glistening. Someone - another mystery to her - had planted a couple of flowers around the weapon and its roots were climbing up, clinging to the small nameplate that gave it its meaning to the always still weapon.

- Good morning, Escanor.- She walked, the words weren't something that used to come from her lips in recent days. Not that she had anyone to talk to daily. But she liked to do this thing where humans talked to objects which belonged to dead people out of pity. What a pity that he died. She had wondered many times if that was what she missed: Being heard. ¿What was the missing piece? - It seems we will be alone again.- She lowered the reddish handkerchief feeling the cold air brush against the scars.- You know, everyone is busy. Diane and King protecting their clans... Gowther is visiting the world. It seems that they're beginning to forget you.- Inevitably, she paused.- You know, I'm working on a new poison extracted from the darkness of demons. I'm trying to apply the same method that my spell-orbs. It's not of much use at the moment, but who knows ... maybe Arthur needs something like that.- No, that... didn't feel right. He always liked to listen to her but...

- From what I know he's trying to expand Camelot. I hadn't told you before, but I'm not his direct assistant anymore. After the battle of the clans his trust... At least he lets me live here, not like fairies or giants anyway. I have to say that he has made his exceptions, he has to maintain an image, but perhaps his decision was not the correct one. - Her expression changed, looking away. If there had been someone closer, she wouldn't have said it.- Maybe mine wasn't either. But what matters is that Arthur is safe for the moment. But there is a somewhat disturbing prediction that has recently gained a lot of interest among the knights of the castle. - She brought her hand to his chin, following in the same monotonous tone of voice.- I don't know if I should worry. Arthur is more than capable. Although the figure of the knights of the apocalypse is ... interesting.

More than interesting, it was disturbing. The existence of the deadly sins had shown her how a kingdom could be demolished by a few people. If that prophecy was true and they had enough power, the expansion of Camelot could be compromised. She knew only a few people who could have enough power to deal with the chaos. She didn't want to doubt the new court that Arthur had, but, there was no one in the fairy or giant clan who could stand up to him.

- Of course, the power of chaos is at another level. - She dismissed the issue with a wave of her hand and a smile. - What do you think Escanor? What words do you have in mind? You would take care of me from the afterlife, didn't you say that?. - The surprise lasted a few seconds, she vaguely remembered that phrase.

The words of the silence grew heavier as she waited for an answer: No one. She turned her face back to her neutral state, wasting that smile. There were no laugh marks on her face. Only her tightly clenching jaw expecting a different result from an experiment already completed. Two, three, four times ... It was useless, she didn't find comfort in this silly tradition, it only left her with this devastating feeling. The warmth of the poems was gone. Escanor had disappeared.

[jornthur]

"Unshaken” Chapter 7

Originally posted: April 5, 2020

Arthur Morgan x Reader, Slow-Burn Romance

Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

•••••

Arthur hadn’t expected it.

The feeling of Y/N’s soft lips on his skin, though brief, had completely surprised him. He’d truly had no idea that his drawing would bring out that kind of response from her.

He’d only thought of his drawing as a mere momentary ‘thank you’ for all she’d done for him, at least until he was physically capable of doing much more, something kind of like hard labor in return for all her troubles, such as hunting or field work.

After having realized what the white lily meant to her, what it stood for in her life, he knew the sketch of the flower would mean a lot to her, but a receiving a kiss on the cheek for it? His mind nearly raced, still feeling the wetness on his cheek that her lips had left behind.

She’d pulled away instantly, and the blush in her cheeks that he noticed was absolutely adorable. She didn’t look at him as she said, “I’m so sorry, Arthur, I didn’t mean … I — I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t know what came over me.”

Those words slammed into him hard, taking him aback. This beautiful woman— one who looked after him all this time, putting his own needs before hers, showing so much passion and strength for her work — turned out to be just as delicate as the white lily itself when it came to anything intimate.

In that moment, knowing how embarrassed she was about what she’d done, knowing how truly inexperienced she was, he wanted to lean forward and claim those lips for his own, to be the first one to kiss those beautiful lips, to reassure her that he was grateful for what she’d given him, that her adorable action was nothing to be ashamed of. Even though he hadn’t expected it from her, he found that he was extremely drawn to her for it.

He hadn’t had very much luck with women in the past because of the life he’d led, and who he’d been. No woman would have him, every one of them leaving him in the end because of the choices he’d made and the life style he’d led. But now … with this fresh start to his new life … and with a woman who showed that she clearly cared about him and for his health, he realized he could be a new man, someone who could possibly protect her and keep her safe with the skills he possessed.

He wanted to let her know that she had nothing to worry about.

“Is that right, honey?” He asked her with a grin, still enjoying the nickname he’d given her. Then before she could respond to his question he leaned his head forward and claimed her lips with his own.

Warm. Oh, so very warm. Her lips felt so plump and soft against his rough ones. She opened her mouth in a gasp, and Arthur stole that opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, pushing his tongue between her teeth and colliding it with her own. Part of him couldn’t believe what he was doing, feeling like he was taking complete advantage of her by taking the kiss even further.

But another part of him knew deep down that he actually wanted this woman. Though she was unaware of it, after all this time she’d proven to him that she was someone who deserved passion, someone who was worth protecting, and he was going to do just that, even if it ended up being just the latter. She’d saved his life, so it was the least he could do.

Those words rang in his head again, the ones she’d said to him earlier, still haunting his mind.

I hate them, every outlaw out there.

Damn those words.

He’d been an outlaw all his life, his rough childhood leading him to join a gang he’d eventually come to know as his own family. The family who raised him for so many years to grow into the man he was today.

They were all so misunderstood in a world that absolutely refused their lifestyles, the harsh ways they got by with the actions they committed. The life of an outlaw, wild and free, making a living off of murdering and thieving, but only to those who deserved it.

But the rest of the world would never listen. It was their way or nothing, and Arthur had chosen his path.

But he understood her pain, and why she would say something like that. Whoever these men were, they had stolen away her mother, someone who she’d clearly loved very dearly.

He knew he didn’t deserve Y/N. Not after everything he’d done, not even if he became a new man. How would he ever tell her who he’d been without scaring her, without her running away in the end like all the others?

He tried to chase those thoughts away, distracting himself with the feeling of Y/N’s mouth against his.

•••••

You couldn’t believe it … he was kissing you.

Arthur was kissing you!

When you’d pulled away after kissing him on the cheek, you’d expected him to verbally lash out at you in some way, to be berated with questions on why you thought you had the right to lay your lips on him in any way. Maybe your expectation of his response was a bit of an over-exaggeration, but you couldn’t help but feel terrified from what you’d just done. Your mind was completely overwhelmed from it, racing with thoughts that had no semblance of reality to them whatsoever.

But in the end, he didn’t do any of those things you’d expected him to. No, instead he said those few words, using that endearment again, leaned forward and placed those lips of his right on your own.

They felt so rough, but also warm and soft at the same time.

You were being kissed, you realized, and the realization of that fact had your heart racing. The kiss was such a surprise that you couldn’t help a small gasp escape you at the response, and you felt his wet tongue push into your mouth, licking its way between your teeth so it could dance with yours.

You were unable to move, unsure of what to do, so you just stayed still and let him continue the kiss, eventually finding yourself getting lost in the foreign sensations of all the warmth and wetness. So this was a kiss, you thought. It felt so strange, being so close to a man like this, feeling his heat through his lips and his tongue.

You found yourself absorbing his sweet touch, leaning in closer to him, allowing yourself to be led into his intimacy.

You thought of the feelings that overcame you from the beautiful drawing he’d made of your favorite flower, something special that he’d made just for you. The fact that he realized the flower meant so much to you, and that he went out of his way to draw such a pretty depiction of it so you could have something that symbolized such strong emotion; you couldn’t help but to get lost in his embrace.

After moments passed into the kiss, you felt his hand begin stroking the back of your neck, and he began running his fingers through your hair, his grip tightening to pull you even closer to him. He began to press harder, his head tilting to get better access to your lips as his breathing intensified through his nose, deepening the kiss even further. He pushed his tongue against yours, licking and sucking at your lips and teeth. The scruff of his beard felt rough on your skin, and the heat of him increased.

All these staggering feelings running through your head and his actions suddenly became so immense that you jerked your head back, breaking the intimate contact. You hesitated as you distanced yourself from his face, bringing your eyes up to see the confused look he was giving you for pulling away. Those sapphire-emerald eyes of his were holding so much emotion in them that you couldn’t possibly begin to read whatever he was feeling. You looked away to avoid his gaze.

His deep drawl made you shiver, “Are you alright, Y/N?” He released his grip from your neck, lowering his hand down to his side.

You nodded, unable to form any words. The space between both of you suddenly becoming very static and uncomfortable. Though you couldn’t deny the feelings that went through your body for this man, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. Not now and not like this.

There was no doubt in your mind that his body and mind were still weak in certain areas, his mental state still recovering from all his treatments. There was a possibility he wasn’t actually thinking straight, and he didn’t deserve to get taken advantage of like this.

“It’s nothing, Arthur,” you said under your breath, shaking your head in an effort to try and bring your mind away from the heat you’d felt and bring it back to reality. “Please don’t think anything of it, I’m just … You’re still sick. I can’t let you … I’m not going to —” How could you possibly let him know what you were thinking without revealing the kinds of feelings you had for him? If anything, doing so would no doubt scare him away when he was thinking straight, and that was the last thing you both needed since he was still recovering.

You could still feel his stare, and you looked back up to see his face. His expression was somber. His lips, that beautiful mouth that was just on your own, now pressed into a thin line of disappointment. His blue eyes that had been sparkling before were now flat, his dark brows furrowed down as if he were lost in thought.

Finally, he lifted the corners of his lips to give you a small smile. “It’s alright, Y/N,” he said, his voice sounding low and hoarse as he gave a single nod, looking toward the stream. “I understand.”

Did he though, you thought as you took in his features. Arthur’s face looked pained, as if he were remembering something. Possibly from his past?

Suddenly, he braced his hands on his knees and stood up from the fallen log. Without a word and without looking at you he bent over and grabbed the fishing rod from your side, walking back over to the edge of the wide stream. What was going through his mind, you thought as he cast the lure back out to the water in silence. Then another thought occurred to you, and it made you worry. Was he hating himself for what he’d done?

“Arthur?” You called out.

He looked over his shoulder at you, offering a small smile, though you knew it wasn’t genuine. “Yeah?” He asked.

You stared down at your feet, pushing a few rocks with the tip of your toe, not sure of what to say. Finally, you lifted your head back up to look at him, “I think you’re a good man,” you said. It was all you could say, you couldn’t think of anything else. But you wanted to let him know that he had nothing to worry about, that nothing had changed because of the kiss.

He’d proven to you over the last few weeks that he was an honorable person, someone to be trusted and who deserved respect. So what you said was the truth, even it it was out of the blue.

His lips suddenly tightened in response, as if he felt uncomfortable with your words, but why would he be? But then he just nodded, and turned his head back toward the stream.

You hadn’t meant to make him feel rejected, you thought sadly, lowering your head back down to push a few more rocks with your feet. The intimate connection you’d both just shared had been such a strange sensation, such a foreign feeling to you, that when he’d suddenly started to push further it had made you pull away. There was no doubt in your mind that he must’ve thought of that action as you turning him down, but truly you knew you were just concerned for his health.

But he was clearly hurting, and you wondered what must’ve been going through his head at that moment. He seemed to accept the thought of the rejection rather strangely, as if it had happened to him before. You lifted your gaze back up to look at him.

Had he loved someone in his past? Someone he’d loved who’d left him, or hadn’t loved him in return?

You narrowed your eyes, studying his broad form, his beautiful dark-chestnut-brown hair, the strong way he held himself. What woman in their right mind would turn this man away? You couldn’t help but stare at him as his back was to you, unable to stop yourself from noticing the power his body held, the way he gave off a kind of intimidation that was indescribable. He was like a large beast that couldn’t help but display his menacing characteristics just by his appearance alone.

You wondered what he would be like once he was fully recovered and truly back on his feet.

Who had he been, you pondered then, what sort of things had happened to him to shape him into the man he appeared to be now? What kind of life had he led up to this point, before you’d found him dying on that mountain? Why or how had he gotten sick?

What horrible things had happened to him that made him end up the way you’d found him? All these questions started running through your mind as you tried your best to piece things together, but none of it made sense. From what you had experienced of his personality, you couldn’t figure out why he’d been there, sick, beaten and bleeding. The person he was now was such a big contrast to whoever he could have possibly been to end up that way.

Then you thought of that mysterious man you’d spotted disappearing into the forest, the moonlight revealing that dirty blonde hair. It had been the only characteristic of his you’d picked up, along with his very nasty voice as he’d been cursing while running off. Had he been the one who placed Arthur in the situation you’d found him in? Was he the one who’d beaten him so badly that he’d been brought to the brink of death? A part of you desperately wanted to find out who that man was, what he was doing, where he was now. Anger nearly boiled your blood at the thought of that man hurting Arthur. From what you’d seen so far, he hadn’t deserved that horrible thing to happen to him. No one did, but especially not him. You were just so grateful you had found him in time.

You remembered him mentioning someone named Hosea. You weren’t sure if it had slipped from his lips by accident based on the expression he’d made after he’d said it, but he’d explained that the man had been a sort of father-figure to him. What had happened to his real parents, how did Hosea find him? What happened to him that made him lose his life? The questions seemed endless. The more you learned about Arthur, the more questions seemed to be raised.

The silence between the two of you stretched on for so long, and all the while you tried to think of what to say next. But what was there to say? There was no doubt in you mind that he thought you rejected him, and he was hurting because of it. He was still highly medicated, so his mind was weak, you thought, he wasn’t thinking straight. And there were some side effects that could effect one’s thoughts and actions, no doubt. You’d seen the animals you’d treated in the past behave strangely in response to similar treatments.

It was such a damn dilemma. On one hand you worried his actions were based on his possibly mixed mentality from the medications, on the other you didn’t want him hurting or thinking that you didn’t care for him. All the while at the same time you didn’t want to risk chasing him off either.

Dammit, it felt like such a paradox!

There just couldn’t be any way that he had actually meant to kiss you … right?

Thinking back to the kiss, you raised the tips of your fingers to your lips. The kiss had actually felt so genuine. Even though you worried he was just under the influence of the herbs and medication, it had still felt so real, you thought. The connection, even if it was just on your side, had definitely been there during the kiss the entire time.

You had to apologize, to let him know there was nothing for him to worry about. None of it was his fault.

“Arthur, I — ” you looked back up at him and he turned to face you once again. The words caught in your throat as he waited for you to continue, and you tried you best to push them out. His stare definitely didn’t help. How could anyone possibly hole a straight conversation with this man with how intimidating he looked? “I — ”

The lure on the fishing line jerked, and Arthur snapped his head back over to the water, his focus back on the task at hand. He immediately began to reel in the line, drawing the fish closer and closer to shore.

Finally, he pulled a large Muskie out from underneath the surface, water splashing as it landed at his feet. He crouched down, bending his knees as he reached down to pick it up. He worked out and released the hook from its mouth and placed the large fish in the bucket with the other. “That oughta do it,” he said, his accent strong. He looked over at you, “There enough here to feed us for a couple days, you think?”

You had to smile as the unease seemed to soften just a bit from his light-hearted words. The tension was clearly still there, but you saw that he was giving you a chance to move forward to another topic. You nodded in response, “Yes, I think that should set us up for awhile.” He picked up the large bucket and without thinking you rushed over and took it from him, “Now, what’d I say about you lifting heavy objects?” You said as snatched it from his grasp playfully. As the weight was exchanged, you nearly dropped the bucked. Each fish had to at least weigh over fifteen pounds. There was no way you were going to let Arthur carry this.

He gave you a grin in response as he folded up the fishing rod, amused by your struggle, “Sure you can handle that, honey?” He teased. His voice was still a bit rough, as if his mind was still racing with emotions, but you could tell that he was trying really hard to lighten the mood.

“Yes, I got it, Arthur,” You teased back with a smile.

You and Arthur carried everything back to the shed by the stables, and you set the bucket down near Austin’s butchering station while Arthur placed the fishing rod back precisely where Austin had it stored before.

Just as you straightened from placing the bucket down you heard heavy hoofbeats growing closer. You looked around to see your brother riding Lily with Butch following directly behind him. The horses were incredibly dirty, their hooves and legs muddy as if they had had quite the run through the fields on the other side of the forest.

“Welcome back, Austin!” You shouted to him. Your brother lifted his hand in a wave as he rode over to you. Once he reached you and Arthur, he swung his leg over and dismounted Lily. You reached out to Lily and stroked her muzzle softly, “Were you a good girl?” You whispered playfully to the horse. Lily whinnied and shook her head up and down, her white mane flapping. You smiled, “I hope Austin was kind to you while you were away?”

You felt Austin’s glare on you, “Hey, now, you know I ain’t a bad rider!” he said.

You shrugged, and you couldn’t help but add, “I guess not, but Lily has told me here that you’re definitely not the best.”

Austin just gaped, then he looked up at Lily, “C’mon, girl, I ain’t that bad, right?” He actually waited for a response.

Lily just looked at him then turned her head, looking away from Austin as if to say she did not approve of him.

Austin’s jaw dropped, then he closed his mouth and just rolled his eyes, looking away as he went over to Butch, who nudged his shoulder. He scratched the horse’s large neck making the war horse let out a strong snort of content. “Alright, fine then. No carrots for you tonight, Lily. They’ll all go to Butch here.”

You gasped, bringing a hand to your chest in mock surprise, “How dare you threaten my girl!” You reached out and stroked Lily’s muzzle in an effort to comfort her, “Don’t worry, Lily, you can have all the treats you want. Don’t listen to the bad man.”

Austin couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at your silly action. He came over to give you a hug, like he usually did after coming back from a trip, no matter how long or short it was. “Missed you, little lady.” He said. You smiled and hugged him back, then he leaned down to say in your ear, “Did Arthur behave while I was gone, or do I need to beat him up for ya?” He made it look like he was whispering it to you, but you were sure he intentionally said it loud enough for Arthur to hear.

You lightly pushed at your brother’s chest, making him take a step back. “How dare you, Austin,” you snapped, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks. “Of course Arthur was a perfect gentleman!” You felt Arthur’s gaze on you and you turned to see him giving you a knowing smile, as if he was trying to make you think of the moment you two had just shared. You had to look away before your blush got any bigger. “He even taught me how to fish, we caught two large Muskies,” you added.

“Really? Great to hear that you know how to fish now.” Austin chuckled at your reaction, not picking up on what Arthur’s smile to you actually stood for. “Well, I gotta get to work, I’ll take care of the horses and then start gettin’ to work on the fish.”

You looked up at your brother and reached out to place a hand on his big shoulder, “How about Arthur and I take care of the horses and you get to work on the fish now? Remember, sharing the load?” It was hard to get Austin to split the work sometimes. Even after all these years he would rather have you handle the delicate tasks while he did all the dirty work. But of course, it was the natural instinct he had as your older brother.

Austin raised up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, letting out a sigh. “Alrighty then, you know where the water barrel is, right?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him, was he ever going to trust you to remember where things actually were? Just because you didn’t work in the stables that often didn’t mean you forgot where things were placed. “Yes, Austin, I know where it is, and the brush, and the other tools.”

“Would you like some help?” Arthur asked.

You turned to look at him and smiled. “If you’re up to it, that would be great. It shouldn’t be too much work.”

“Alright, sounds like we all got our tasks set,” Austin said, clapping his hands together once, “I’ll see y’all when dinner’s ready.” Then he looked at Arthur with narrowed eyes, he lifted a hand to point directly at his chest. “I’m still keepin’ my eye on you, mister.”

Arthur didn’t dignify the statement with any kind of response, but you rolled your eyes, then you started pushing your brother away, urging him toward the butchering station. “Go, Austin, we’ll handle the horses, don’t you worry.”

Austin just gave a smile and nodded. He patted Butch on the back one more time, “See you later, boy.” Then he turned away and headed over to start working on the fish you’d caught.

“Alright, Arthur,” you said. You placed a gentle hand on Lily’s muzzle, an effort to keep her calm as you urged Arthur with a waving hand, gesturing for him to come over and stand next to you. He did as you asked, and you had him stand in front of Lily as you stepped aside. “Lily’s not so good with strangers, and I know this is your first encounter with her, so I’m going to show you how to — ” You stopped mid-sentence as you watched, shocked at what you saw happen next.

Arthur lifted his hand up, keeping his palm and fingers flat to reduce the risk of them getting bitten off, and Lily lowered her head down to sniff at it. Then, to your surprise, she let out a loud chuff of air through her nostrils and nudged his hand playfully, taking a step forward to get closer to Arthur. She pushed at his shoulder with her nose and huffed, the air of the snort blowing Arthur’s dark chestnut-brown hair back. Arthur just smiled and reached up to pet her on the check, “That’s a good girl.” He said to her softly, his voice deep and soothing.

The way he said it had you thinking about how it would feel if he talked to you like that. You shook your head suddenly, trying to erase that thought from you mind. “She seems to really like you,” you blurted, genuinely surprised at Lily’s reaction to Arthur. The first time you’d gotten her as a foal while you’d lived at the plantation, she had never warmed up to anyone but you, rearing at any strangers who dared to approach her. But she was calm with Arthur, using her nose to play with Arthur’s hair as he just smiled, allowing her to do what she wished.

“She’s never done that before,” you breathed, unable to fathom the sight before you. “How … How on Earth did you do that?”

Arthur lifted his gaze to you as Lily continued nudging at him, “I just gotta way with horses, I guess.” He said, letting out a small chuckle as Lily nearly pushed him off his feet. He lifted a hand to stroke her muzzle, and she let out a soft nicker, lowering her head as if she wanted him to pet her more. Arthur reached up higher and patted her head softly, running his fingers through her rough white mane. “She’s beautiful,” he said.

You smiled at his compliment, touched by his words and how well Lily was getting along with Arthur. “Thank you, I got her when she was a foal for my 20th birthday. She’s the sweetest horse you’ll ever meet, as long as she likes you.”

Arthur smiled in response, his deep voice amused, “Is that right? Well, I guess I’m a lucky man.”

“Do you know how to lead a horse?” You asked, nodding your head at Lily’s reins.

“Course,” Arthur replied, then took Lily’s reins in his big hand, grasping the leather strips arounds his fingers, ready to lead her.

You walked over to Butch who was grazing at some of the grass near a tree, “Hey, Butch, you ready to get cleaned up?” You asked him. He lifted his head to look at you, and you approached him slowly, reaching out a hand to let him know who you were. He seemed to recognize you and turned to walk in your direction, his heavy hooves crushing the grass beneath his massive weight. He would be an absolute threat to anyone he didn’t know. “Atta boy,” You said, leading him towards the stables.

Arthur joined you at your side with Lily as you both took the horses into the stables. You told Arthur to place Lily in her stall as you attached Butch to the wash rack. You got the water barrel and brush ready then started getting to work on cleaning his fur, “Would you mind making sure their stalls are cleaned, Arthur?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Will do,” Arthur replied. Soon you could hear shuffling noises in the stalls as he got to work on changing them out.

Once Butch’s coat was clean and you finished washing all the mud from his legs, you got to work on his feet, using the hoof-pick to clean out all the dirt from his hooves. When you were finished, you untied him from the washing rack and placed him in his stall. Arthur had finished up that one first, and now he was currently working on finishing up Lily’s stall. She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he was in her space at all, which was so odd to you. Even to you she would sometimes nicker in annoyance if you stayed in her stall for too long. She was often like a child in that way, wanting her space to herself. But she didn’t seem to mind with Arthur in the least bit.

Arthur finished spreading out the clean hay and walked back over to you, giving you a small smile as he placed his hands on his belt, “Lily’s turn now?” He asked, referring to the wash rack.

“Yes, sir!” You replied, “C’mon now, girl.” You clicked your tongue a few times to get Lily’s attention, and she started walking over to you. You lead her over to the wash rack and tied her securely so she wouldn’t move around, then you got to work on wetting the brush in the water barrel and running the bristles through her fur, working out all the mud and grime. She had such a beautiful white coat when she was clean, you thought to yourself with a smile.

Arthur came over and picked up the hoof-pick you had left on the nearby table. He positioned himself by the horse’s side and lifted up one of Lily’s back hooves to get to work on cleaning them out, scraping all the chunks of dirt out before moving to the next hoof. So he knew how to groom horses as well, you thought. Had he been some kind of stable-master? Maybe a cowhand? A cowboy? You started to wonder again who he possibly could have been before you’d met him.

Several minutes passed by as both of you helped Lily get clean, until finally the chore was done, and you led her back into her stall. She turned to face you as you closed her door and leaned her head over the low gate, nuzzling your hair as if to thank you. “No problem, Lily.” You laughed and reached over to one of the sacks hanging off the wall, pulling out a carrot and offering it to her, “Here you go.”

Lily took what you offered greedily and you patted her gently on the muzzle as she munched up the carrot. You turned to see Arthur leaning against one of the walls by Lily’s stall, his brows furrowed as he looked at the horses as if he were trying to study them. Grabbing another carrot from the sack you went over and held it out to Butch, and the large horse approached you, leaning its head over the gate and taking it from your hand. When you pulled away, you looked over at Arthur, and the silence that suddenly approached felt like it stretched on forever.

You thought back to the kiss, remembering the feeling of his mouth on yours, the expression he’d made when you’d ended the kiss so abruptly. He’d looked so pained after you’d pulled away, but he seemed to have accepted your rejection with such a strange ease, as if he were used to being denied?

You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it. What could you possibly say? Was there anything that was going to change the unease and tension that had now placed itself between the two of you?

“That your brother’s horse?” Arthur’s voice suddenly pierced the silence, and the deep tone almost made you jump.

“Yes,” you replied, trying to clear your mind to answer his question, “Austin got Butch as a foal for his 20th birthday back in ’87, and this big guy has never left his side since.” You smiled at the memories, thinking back on all the playful times your brother had with Butch as he’d raised him from such a tiny thing to the big war horse he was today.

“So you got this horse for your birthday?” Arthur asked, his deep voice sounding curious as he looked over at Lily.

You nodded, “A farmer owned a Shire ranch near our plantation and a foal was just born to two of them. Her parents were both brown, but she was pure white, and my father knew how much I loved the color. So, he offered to buy it from the farmer, and she became part of the family.” You looked over at Lily as she leaned her head over the gate, nudging Arthur’s shoulder. “Hey, girl, don’t bother him,” you said teasingly, “ you already got your treat.”

Arthur let out a chuckle as Lily pushed his head with her nose. “Easy, girl.” He patted her muzzle and gently pushed her away. Lily snorted and shook her head, turning away to start munching at the hay he’d thoughtfully filled her trough with earlier.

You thought about how good he seemed to be with the horses, how he knew what to do to care for them, and the question popped up once again. Who had he been before you’d found him? What sort of life had he led? He was clearly skilled with horses and how to treat them. There was no doubt in your mind that he probably knew how to ride them, too. So who or what could he have possibly been? “Arthur?”

He broke his gaze away from the horses and looked at you, “Hm?”

How were you going to ask the question without sounding too peckish for the answers? Was it truly any of your business what his past was like, who he’d been before you found him? “Um, I noticed how well you get along with horses … did you use to work with them?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his thick brows drawing down as he lowered his head, breaking the eye contact between both of you. It seemed as though he was getting lost in his memories once again. “I did,” he said after a few moments, his voice nearly sounding like gravel. “Used to have one of my own, but … it passed away recently.”

You felt your heart suddenly ache for him, and you stepped forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

He nodded, acknowledging your touch with a small smile.

You nearly wanted to kick yourself for asking yet another question that just ended up bringing more pain to Arthur. Even though you couldn’t possibly know what he’d lived through and what he’d experienced, this man had clearly had a very rough life before you’d found him, and anything you tried to find out from his past seemed to do nothing but hurt him.

Truly, his life must’ve been a harsh one. Whatever happened to make him this way, to put him through so much anguish, it was clear to you that his answers to your questions were not going to be good ones. You decided to leave it alone for now, to let him tell his story whenever he was ready.

You gave him another smile in an effort to reassure him, to wordlessly tell him that you were no longer going to pry.

Arthur’s eyes, those beautiful sapphire emeralds, practically sparkled as he looked down at you, his lips stretching into a small but beautiful smile.

•••••

Arthur couldn’t help but appreciate the comfort Y/N was trying to give him, and he gave her a small smile to reassure her that he was alright, that she had nothing to worry about for asking him these things, he couldn’t blame her for being so curious about him.

But hell, he didn’t know how he was ever going to answer the questions she would have about his past. He feared that she was eventually going to find out who he’d been, what he’d been, what he’d done. He’d never even given her his last name in fear that she would recognize it and end up piecing together the undeniable fact that he was actually a wanted outlaw, and not just the innocent, normal man she had come to know him as.

He thought back on the kiss.

If she ever found out who he’d been, would she regret having done that with him? Would she throw him out of her house right on his ass?

Dammit, why had he done it, he thought. He’d had no right. She’d even pulled away from him when he’d tried taking it further, which he knew he’d been wrong for doing.

Of course she had rejected him, what woman in their right mind wouldn’t? He knew he didn’t deserve to have anyone in his life, not after the dark path he’d chosen to follow. It was no surprise to him that she’d broken away.

Then suddenly he thought of what she’d said earlier, that she’d never kissed anyone before. … Was that it? Had he moved too fast for her? Damn him, but was he an idiot for possibly not having thought of that sooner? He wanted to find out the reason she’d pulled away, even if he didn’t deserve to know the answer.

“You said you never kissed anyone before,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. He cleared his throat, “Is that why you pulled away?”

Her eyes widened at his question, and he wanted to punch himself in his own stupid face as he looked down to avoid her gaze. Why the hell did he even bother —

“Arthur,” her soft voice interrupted his thoughts, and he raised his eyes back up to look at her. Her expression was soft, and he could see a hint of blush filling her cheeks. “To be honest with you, I think I pulled away because … it was a lot to take in.” She lifted a hand to run her fingers though her hair, fiddling her finger through some of the loose strands as if she was nervous. “I was just worried, because you’re still sick. I — I wasn’t’t sure if the herbs and medication were mixing up your thoughts, so … I wasn’t going to let you do something that you probably didn’t mean to do, or that you would regret later.”

Arthur felt his heart nearly lift at her words, a heavy weight that had been sitting on his chest suddenly disappearing. So she’d thought that he hadn’t been thinking straight because of his treatments, and she’d feared that she would have been taking advantage of him if she’d allowed him to get carried away.

“You ain’t gotta worry ’bout that, honey.” He told her, his voice low and deep in an effort to soothe her. She gazed up at him curiously, as if to ask what he meant by that. He looked at those lips of hers, wet and inviting.

He leaned forward slowly, making sure she was comfortable with what he was about to do. But she didn’t move, and so he took that as an invitation.

Just as their lips were about to meet, that damn brother of hers shouted out from outside, “Y/N! Dinner’s all ready!”

She suddenly jerked, and Arthur straightened back up, fire in his eyes as he glared over at the open doorway of the stables, feeling like he wanted to burn everything else but Y/N at that moment.

“I — I think we should go and eat,” she said, her voice sounding so soft, as if she were shy about what had just been about to happen. He turned his head to look at her again. That blush was back in her cheeks, making her look so fragile. She stepped back and headed for the doorway. As soon as she reached it, she looked over her shoulder to see that he was still standing in the same spot he’d been in. “C’mon, Arthur!”

Arthur lowered his dark brows in irritation, placing both hands on his belt in a tight grip to avoid possibly murdering her brother for the intrusion, even if he hadn’t meant it. There was no way Austin could see what he and Y/N had been about to do.

But dammit, still!

He followed her back to the cabin where that damn brother of hers stood on the porch, waving nonchalantly at both of them. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the man, he was probably going to need to lasso Austin up at some point, just to keep him from interrupting anymore in the future.

•••••

— To Be Continued

[the-mill-kat]

Unshaken Chapter 7

Posted April 5, 2020 | Arthur Morgan x Reader (18+) Slow Burn Romance 🐺❤️🦌

Whew, these chapters just keep getting longer and longer as we delve deeper into the story! Please like/comment/reblog, each one really makes my day! Please let me know what you think. That said, enjoy Chapter 7, y’all!

(Photo credit: the-mill-kat)

You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

Arthur hadn’t expected it.

The feeling of Y/N’s soft lips on his skin, though brief, had completely surprised him. He’d truly had no idea that his drawing would bring out that kind of response from her.

He’d only thought of his drawing as a mere momentary ‘thank you' for all she’d done for him, at least until he was physically capable of doing much more, something kind of like hard labor in return for all her troubles, such as hunting or field work.

After having realized what the white lily meant to her, what it stood for in her life, he knew the sketch of the flower would mean a lot to her, but a receiving a kiss on the cheek for it? His mind nearly raced, still feeling the wetness on his cheek that her lips had left behind.

She’d pulled away instantly, and the blush in her cheeks that he noticed was absolutely adorable. She didn’t look at him as she said, “I’m so sorry, Arthur, I didn’t mean … I — I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t know what came over me.”

Those words slammed into him hard, taking him aback. This beautiful woman— one who looked after him all this time, putting his own needs before hers, showing so much passion and strength for her work — turned out to be just as delicate as the white lily itself when it came to anything intimate.

In that moment, knowing how embarrassed she was about what she’d done, knowing how truly inexperienced she was, he wanted to lean forward and claim those lips for his own, to be the first one to kiss those beautiful lips, to reassure her that he was grateful for what she’d given him, that her adorable action was nothing to be ashamed of. Even though he hadn’t expected it from her, he found that he was extremely drawn to her for it.

He hadn’t had very much luck with women in the past because of the life he’d led, and who he’d been. No woman would have him, every one of them leaving him in the end because of the choices he’d made and the life style he’d led. But now … with this fresh start to his new life … and with a woman who showed that she clearly cared about him and for his health, he realized he could be a new man, someone who could possibly protect her and keep her safe with the skills he possessed.

He wanted to let her know that she had nothing to worry about.

“Is that right, honey?” He asked her with a grin, still enjoying the nickname he’d given her. Then before she could respond to his question he leaned his head forward and claimed her lips with his own.

Warm. Oh, so very warm. Her lips felt so plump and soft against his rough ones. She opened her mouth in a gasp, and Arthur stole that opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, pushing his tongue between her teeth and colliding it with her own. Part of him couldn’t believe what he was doing, feeling like he was taking complete advantage of her by taking the kiss even further.

But another part of him knew deep down that he actually wanted this woman. Though she was unaware of it, after all this time she’d proven to him that she was someone who deserved passion, someone who was worth protecting, and he was going to do just that, even if it ended up being just the latter. She’d saved his life, so it was the least he could do.

Those words rang in his head again, the ones she’d said to him earlier, still haunting his mind.

I hate them, every outlaw out there.

Damn those words.

He’d been an outlaw all his life, his rough childhood leading him to join a gang he’d eventually come to know as his own family. The family who raised him for so many years to grow into the man he was today.

They were all so misunderstood in a world that absolutely refused their lifestyles, the harsh ways they got by with the actions they committed. The life of an outlaw, wild and free, making a living off of murdering and thieving, but only to those who deserved it.

But the rest of the world would never listen. It was their way or nothing, and Arthur had chosen his path.

But he understood her pain, and why she would say something like that. Whoever these men were, they had stolen away her mother, someone who she’d clearly loved very dearly.

He knew he didn’t deserve Y/N. Not after everything he’d done, not even if he became a new man. How would he ever tell her who he’d been without scaring her, without her running away in the end like all the others?

He tried to chase those thoughts away, distracting himself with the feeling of Y/N’s mouth against his.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You couldn’t believe it … he was kissing you.

Arthur was kissing you!

When you’d pulled away after kissing him on the cheek, you’d expected him to verbally lash out at you in some way, to be berated with questions on why you thought you had the right to lay your lips on him in any way. Maybe your expectation of his response was a bit of an over-exaggeration, but you couldn’t help but feel terrified from what you’d just done. Your mind was completely overwhelmed from it, racing with thoughts that had no semblance of reality to them whatsoever.

But in the end, he didn’t do any of those things you’d expected him to. No, instead he said those few words, using that endearment again, leaned forward and placed those lips of his right on your own.

They felt so rough, but also warm and soft at the same time.

You were being kissed, you realized, and the realization of that fact had your heart racing. The kiss was such a surprise that you couldn’t help a small gasp escape you at the response, and you felt his wet tongue push into your mouth, licking its way between your teeth so it could dance with yours.

You were unable to move, unsure of what to do, so you just stayed still and let him continue the kiss, eventually finding yourself getting lost in the foreign sensations of all the warmth and wetness. So this was a kiss, you thought. It felt so strange, being so close to a man like this, feeling his heat through his lips and his tongue.

You found yourself absorbing his sweet touch, leaning in closer to him, allowing yourself to be led into his intimacy.

You thought of the feelings that overcame you from the beautiful drawing he’d made of your favorite flower, something special that he’d made just for you. The fact that he realized the flower meant so much to you, and that he went out of his way to draw such a pretty depiction of it so you could have something that symbolized such strong emotion; you couldn’t help but to get lost in his embrace.

After moments passed into the kiss, you felt his hand begin stroking the back of your neck, and he began running his fingers through your hair, his grip tightening to pull you even closer to him. He began to press harder, his head tilting to get better access to your lips as his breathing intensified through his nose, deepening the kiss even further. He pushed his tongue against yours, licking and sucking at your lips and teeth. The scruff of his beard felt rough on your skin, and the heat of him increased.

All these staggering feelings running through your head and his actions suddenly became so immense that you jerked your head back, breaking the intimate contact. You hesitated as you distanced yourself from his face, bringing your eyes up to see the confused look he was giving you for pulling away. Those sapphire-emerald eyes of his were holding so much emotion in them that you couldn’t possibly begin to read whatever he was feeling. You looked away to avoid his gaze.

His deep drawl made you shiver, “Are you alright, Y/N?” He released his grip from your neck, lowering his hand down to his side.

You nodded, unable to form any words. The space between both of you suddenly becoming very static and uncomfortable. Though you couldn’t deny the feelings that went through your body for this man, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. Not now and not like this.

There was no doubt in your mind that his body and mind were still weak in certain areas, his mental state still recovering from all his treatments. There was a possibility he wasn’t actually thinking straight, and he didn’t deserve to get taken advantage of like this.

“It’s nothing, Arthur,” you said under your breath, shaking your head in an effort to try and bring your mind away from the heat you’d felt and bring it back to reality. “Please don’t think anything of it, I’m just … You’re still sick. I can’t let you … I’m not going to —” How could you possibly let him know what you were thinking without revealing the kinds of feelings you had for him? If anything, doing so would no doubt scare him away when he was thinking straight, and that was the last thing you both needed since he was still recovering.

You could still feel his stare, and you looked back up to see his face. His expression was somber. His lips, that beautiful mouth that was just on your own, now pressed into a thin line of disappointment. His blue eyes that had been sparkling before were now flat, his dark brows furrowed down as if he were lost in thought.

Finally, he lifted the corners of his lips to give you a small smile. “It’s alright, Y/N,” he said, his voice sounding low and hoarse as he gave a single nod, looking toward the stream. “I understand.”

Did he though, you thought as you took in his features. Arthur’s face looked pained, as if he were remembering something. Possibly from his past?

Suddenly, he braced his hands on his knees and stood up from the fallen log. Without a word and without looking at you he bent over and grabbed the fishing rod from your side, walking back over to the edge of the wide stream. What was going through his mind, you thought as he cast the lure back out to the water in silence. Then another thought occurred to you, and it made you worry. Was he hating himself for what he’d done?

“Arthur?” You called out.

He looked over his shoulder at you, offering a small smile, though you knew it wasn’t genuine. “Yeah?” He asked.

You stared down at your feet, pushing a few rocks with the tip of your toe, not sure of what to say. Finally, you lifted your head back up to look at him, “I think you’re a good man,” you said. It was all you could say, you couldn’t think of anything else. But you wanted to let him know that he had nothing to worry about, that nothing had changed because of the kiss.

He’d proven to you over the last few weeks that he was an honorable person, someone to be trusted and who deserved respect. So what you said was the truth, even it it was out of the blue.

His lips suddenly tightened in response, as if he felt uncomfortable with your words, but why would he be? But then he just nodded, and turned his head back toward the stream.

You hadn’t meant to make him feel rejected, you thought sadly, lowering your head back down to push a few more rocks with your feet. The intimate connection you’d both just shared had been such a strange sensation, such a foreign feeling to you, that when he’d suddenly started to push further it had made you pull away. There was no doubt in your mind that he must’ve thought of that action as you turning him down, but truly you knew you were just concerned for his health.

But he was clearly hurting, and you wondered what must’ve been going through his head at that moment. He seemed to accept the thought of the rejection rather strangely, as if it had happened to him before. You lifted your gaze back up to look at him.

Had he loved someone in his past? Someone he’d loved who’d left him, or hadn’t loved him in return?

You narrowed your eyes, studying his broad form, his beautiful dark-chestnut-brown hair, the strong way he held himself. What woman in their right mind would turn this man away? You couldn’t help but stare at him as his back was to you, unable to stop yourself from noticing the power his body held, the way he gave off a kind of intimidation that was indescribable. He was like a large beast that couldn’t help but display his menacing characteristics just by his appearance alone.

You wondered what he would be like once he was fully recovered and truly back on his feet.

Who had he been, you pondered then, what sort of things had happened to him to shape him into the man he appeared to be now? What kind of life had he led up to this point, before you’d found him dying on that mountain? Why or how had he gotten sick?

What horrible things had happened to him that made him end up the way you’d found him? All these questions started running through your mind as you tried your best to piece things together, but none of it made sense. From what you had experienced of his personality, you couldn’t figure out why he’d been there, sick, beaten and bleeding. The person he was now was such a big contrast to whoever he could have possibly been to end up that way.

Then you thought of that mysterious man you’d spotted disappearing into the forest, the moonlight revealing that dirty blonde hair. It had been the only characteristic of his you’d picked up, along with his very nasty voice as he’d been cursing while running off. Had he been the one who placed Arthur in the situation you’d found him in? Was he the one who’d beaten him so badly that he’d been brought to the brink of death? A part of you desperately wanted to find out who that man was, what he was doing, where he was now. Anger nearly boiled your blood at the thought of that man hurting Arthur. From what you’d seen so far, he hadn’t deserved that horrible thing to happen to him. No one did, but especially not him. You were just so grateful you had found him in time.

You remembered him mentioning someone named Hosea. You weren’t sure if it had slipped from his lips by accident based on the expression he’d made after he’d said it, but he’d explained that the man had been a sort of father-figure to him. What had happened to his real parents, how did Hosea find him? What happened to him that made him lose his life? The questions seemed endless. The more you learned about Arthur, the more questions seemed to be raised.

The silence between the two of you stretched on for so long, and all the while you tried to think of what to say next. But what was there to say? There was no doubt in you mind that he thought you rejected him, and he was hurting because of it. He was still highly medicated, so his mind was weak, you thought, he wasn’t thinking straight. And there were some side effects that could effect one’s thoughts and actions, no doubt. You’d seen the animals you’d treated in the past behave strangely in response to similar treatments.

It was such a damn dilemma. On one hand you worried his actions were based on his possibly mixed mentality from the medications, on the other you didn’t want him hurting or thinking that you didn’t care for him. All the while at the same time you didn’t want to risk chasing him off either.

Dammit, it felt like such a paradox!

There just couldn’t be any way that he had actually meant to kiss you … right?

Thinking back to the kiss, you raised the tips of your fingers to your lips. The kiss had actually felt so genuine. Even though you worried he was just under the influence of the herbs and medication, it had still felt so real, you thought. The connection, even if it was just on your side, had definitely been there during the kiss the entire time.

You had to apologize, to let him know there was nothing for him to worry about. None of it was his fault.

“Arthur, I — ” you looked back up at him and he turned to face you once again. The words caught in your throat as he waited for you to continue, and you tried you best to push them out. His stare definitely didn’t help. How could anyone possibly hole a straight conversation with this man with how intimidating he looked? “I — ”

The lure on the fishing line jerked, and Arthur snapped his head back over to the water, his focus back on the task at hand. He immediately began to reel in the line, drawing the fish closer and closer to shore.

Finally, he pulled a large Muskie out from underneath the surface, water splashing as it landed at his feet. He crouched down, bending his knees as he reached down to pick it up. He worked out and released the hook from its mouth and placed the large fish in the bucket with the other. “That oughta do it,” he said, his accent strong. He looked over at you, “There enough here to feed us for a couple days, you think?”

You had to smile as the unease seemed to soften just a bit from his light-hearted words. The tension was clearly still there, but you saw that he was giving you a chance to move forward to another topic. You nodded in response, “Yes, I think that should set us up for awhile.” He picked up the large bucket and without thinking you rushed over and took it from him, “Now, what’d I say about you lifting heavy objects?” You said as snatched it from his grasp playfully. As the weight was exchanged, you nearly dropped the bucked. Each fish had to at least weigh over fifteen pounds. There was no way you were going to let Arthur carry this.

He gave you a grin in response as he folded up the fishing rod, amused by your struggle, “Sure you can handle that, honey?” He teased. His voice was still a bit rough, as if his mind was still racing with emotions, but you could tell that he was trying really hard to lighten the mood.

“Yes, I got it, Arthur,” You teased back with a smile.

You and Arthur carried everything back to the shed by the stables, and you set the bucket down near Austin’s butchering station while Arthur placed the fishing rod back precisely where Austin had it stored before.

Just as you straightened from placing the bucket down you heard heavy hoofbeats growing closer. You looked around to see your brother riding Lily with Butch following directly behind him. The horses were incredibly dirty, their hooves and legs muddy as if they had had quite the run through the fields on the other side of the forest.

“Welcome back, Austin!” You shouted to him. Your brother lifted his hand in a wave as he rode over to you. Once he reached you and Arthur, he swung his leg over and dismounted Lily. You reached out to Lily and stroked her muzzle softly, “Were you a good girl?” You whispered playfully to the horse. Lily whinnied and shook her head up and down, her white mane flapping. You smiled, “I hope Austin was kind to you while you were away?”

You felt Austin’s glare on you, “Hey, now, you know I ain’t a bad rider!” he said.

You shrugged, and you couldn’t help but add, “I guess not, but Lily has told me here that you’re definitely not the best.”

Austin just gaped, then he looked up at Lily, “C’mon, girl, I ain’t that bad, right?” He actually waited for a response.

Lily just looked at him then turned her head, looking away from Austin as if to say she did not approve of him.

Austin’s jaw dropped, then he closed his mouth and just rolled his eyes, looking away as he went over to Butch, who nudged his shoulder. He scratched the horse’s large neck making the war horse let out a strong snort of content. “Alright, fine then. No carrots for you tonight, Lily. They’ll all go to Butch here.”

You gasped, bringing a hand to your chest in mock surprise, “How dare you threaten my girl!” You reached out and stroked Lily’s muzzle in an effort to comfort her, “Don’t worry, Lily, you can have all the treats you want. Don’t listen to the bad man.”

Austin couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at your silly action. He came over to give you a hug, like he usually did after coming back from a trip, no matter how long or short it was. “Missed you, little lady.” He said. You smiled and hugged him back, then he leaned down to say in your ear, “Did Arthur behave while I was gone, or do I need to beat him up for ya?” He made it look like he was whispering it to you, but you were sure he intentionally said it loud enough for Arthur to hear.

You lightly pushed at your brother’s chest, making him take a step back. “How dare you, Austin,” you snapped, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks. “Of course Arthur was a perfect gentleman!” You felt Arthur’s gaze on you and you turned to see him giving you a knowing smile, as if he was trying to make you think of the moment you two had just shared. You had to look away before your blush got any bigger. “He even taught me how to fish, we caught two large Muskies,” you added.

“Really? Great to hear that you know how to fish now.” Austin chuckled at your reaction, not picking up on what Arthur’s smile to you actually stood for. “Well, I gotta get to work, I’ll take care of the horses and then start gettin’ to work on the fish.”

You looked up at your brother and reached out to place a hand on his big shoulder, “How about Arthur and I take care of the horses and you get to work on the fish now? Remember, sharing the load?” It was hard to get Austin to split the work sometimes. Even after all these years he would rather have you handle the delicate tasks while he did all the dirty work. But of course, it was the natural instinct he had as your older brother.

Austin raised up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, letting out a sigh. “Alrighty then, you know where the water barrel is, right?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him, was he ever going to trust you to remember where things actually were? Just because you didn’t work in the stables that often didn’t mean you forgot where things were placed. “Yes, Austin, I know where it is, and the brush, and the other tools.”

“Would you like some help?” Arthur asked.

You turned to look at him and smiled. “If you’re up to it, that would be great. It shouldn’t be too much work.”

“Alright, sounds like we all got our tasks set,” Austin said, clapping his hands together once, “I’ll see y’all when dinner’s ready.” Then he looked at Arthur with narrowed eyes, he lifted a hand to point directly at his chest. “I’m still keepin’ my eye on you, mister.”

Arthur didn’t dignify the statement with any kind of response, but you rolled your eyes, then you started pushing your brother away, urging him toward the butchering station. “Go, Austin, we’ll handle the horses, don’t you worry.”

Austin just gave a smile and nodded. He patted Butch on the back one more time, “See you later, boy.” Then he turned away and headed over to start working on the fish you’d caught.

“Alright, Arthur,” you said. You placed a gentle hand on Lily’s muzzle, an effort to keep her calm as you urged Arthur with a waving hand, gesturing for him to come over and stand next to you. He did as you asked, and you had him stand in front of Lily as you stepped aside. “Lily’s not so good with strangers, and I know this is your first encounter with her, so I’m going to show you how to — ” You stopped mid-sentence as you watched, shocked at what you saw happen next.

Arthur lifted his hand up, keeping his palm and fingers flat to reduce the risk of them getting bitten off, and Lily lowered her head down to sniff at it. Then, to your surprise, she let out a loud chuff of air through her nostrils and nudged his hand playfully, taking a step forward to get closer to Arthur. She pushed at his shoulder with her nose and huffed, the air of the snort blowing Arthur’s dark chestnut-brown hair back. Arthur just smiled and reached up to pet her on the check, “That’s a good girl.” He said to her softly, his voice deep and soothing.

The way he said it had you thinking about how it would feel if he talked to you like that. You shook your head suddenly, trying to erase that thought from you mind. “She seems to really like you,” you blurted, genuinely surprised at Lily’s reaction to Arthur. The first time you’d gotten her as a foal while you’d lived at the plantation, she had never warmed up to anyone but you, rearing at any strangers who dared to approach her. But she was calm with Arthur, using her nose to play with Arthur’s hair as he just smiled, allowing her to do what she wished.

“She’s never done that before,” you breathed, unable to fathom the sight before you. “How … How on Earth did you do that?”

Arthur lifted his gaze to you as Lily continued nudging at him, “I just gotta way with horses, I guess.” He said, letting out a small chuckle as Lily nearly pushed him off his feet. He lifted a hand to stroke her muzzle, and she let out a soft nicker, lowering her head as if she wanted him to pet her more. Arthur reached up higher and patted her head softly, running his fingers through her rough white mane. “She’s beautiful,” he said.

You smiled at his compliment, touched by his words and how well Lily was getting along with Arthur. “Thank you, I got her when she was a foal for my 20th birthday. She’s the sweetest horse you’ll ever meet, as long as she likes you.”

Arthur smiled in response, his deep voice amused, “Is that right? Well, I guess I’m a lucky man.”

“Do you know how to lead a horse?” You asked, nodding your head at Lily’s reins.

“Course,” Arthur replied, then took Lily’s reins in his big hand, grasping the leather strips arounds his fingers, ready to lead her.

You walked over to Butch who was grazing at some of the grass near a tree, “Hey, Butch, you ready to get cleaned up?” You asked him. He lifted his head to look at you, and you approached him slowly, reaching out a hand to let him know who you were. He seemed to recognize you and turned to walk in your direction, his heavy hooves crushing the grass beneath his massive weight. He would be an absolute threat to anyone he didn’t know. “Atta boy,” You said, leading him towards the stables.

Arthur joined you at your side with Lily as you both took the horses into the stables. You told Arthur to place Lily in her stall as you attached Butch to the wash rack. You got the water barrel and brush ready then started getting to work on cleaning his fur, “Would you mind making sure their stalls are cleaned, Arthur?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Will do,” Arthur replied. Soon you could hear shuffling noises in the stalls as he got to work on changing them out.

Once Butch’s coat was clean and you finished washing all the mud from his legs, you got to work on his feet, using the hoof-pick to clean out all the dirt from his hooves. When you were finished, you untied him from the washing rack and placed him in his stall. Arthur had finished up that one first, and now he was currently working on finishing up Lily’s stall. She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he was in her space at all, which was so odd to you. Even to you she would sometimes nicker in annoyance if you stayed in her stall for too long. She was often like a child in that way, wanting her space to herself. But she didn’t seem to mind with Arthur in the least bit.

Arthur finished spreading out the clean hay and walked back over to you, giving you a small smile as he placed his hands on his belt, “Lily’s turn now?” He asked, referring to the wash rack.

“Yes, sir!” You replied, “C’mon now, girl.” You clicked your tongue a few times to get Lily’s attention, and she started walking over to you. You lead her over to the wash rack and tied her securely so she wouldn’t move around, then you got to work on wetting the brush in the water barrel and running the bristles through her fur, working out all the mud and grime. She had such a beautiful white coat when she was clean, you thought to yourself with a smile.

Arthur came over and picked up the hoof-pick you had left on the nearby table. He positioned himself by the horse’s side and lifted up one of Lily’s back hooves to get to work on cleaning them out, scraping all the chunks of dirt out before moving to the next hoof. So he knew how to groom horses as well, you thought. Had he been some kind of stable-master? Maybe a cowhand? A cowboy? You started to wonder again who he possibly could have been before you’d met him.

Several minutes passed by as both of you helped Lily get clean, until finally the chore was done, and you led her back into her stall. She turned to face you as you closed her door and leaned her head over the low gate, nuzzling your hair as if to thank you. “No problem, Lily.” You laughed and reached over to one of the sacks hanging off the wall, pulling out a carrot and offering it to her, “Here you go.”

Lily took what you offered greedily and you patted her gently on the muzzle as she munched up the carrot. You turned to see Arthur leaning against one of the walls by Lily’s stall, his brows furrowed as he looked at the horses as if he were trying to study them. Grabbing another carrot from the sack you went over and held it out to Butch, and the large horse approached you, leaning its head over the gate and taking it from your hand. When you pulled away, you looked over at Arthur, and the silence that suddenly approached felt like it stretched on forever.

You thought back to the kiss, remembering the feeling of his mouth on yours, the expression he’d made when you’d ended the kiss so abruptly. He’d looked so pained after you’d pulled away, but he seemed to have accepted your rejection with such a strange ease, as if he were used to being denied?

You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it. What could you possibly say? Was there anything that was going to change the unease and tension that had now placed itself between the two of you?

“That your brother’s horse?” Arthur’s voice suddenly pierced the silence, and the deep tone almost made you jump.

“Yes,” you replied, trying to clear your mind to answer his question, “Austin got Butch as a foal for his 20th birthday back in ’87, and this big guy has never left his side since.” You smiled at the memories, thinking back on all the playful times your brother had with Butch as he’d raised him from such a tiny thing to the big war horse he was today.

“So you got this horse for your birthday?” Arthur asked, his deep voice sounding curious as he looked over at Lily.

You nodded, “A farmer owned a Shire ranch near our plantation and a foal was just born to two of them. Her parents were both brown, but she was pure white, and my father knew how much I loved the color. So, he offered to buy it from the farmer, and she became part of the family.” You looked over at Lily as she leaned her head over the gate, nudging Arthur’s shoulder. “Hey, girl, don’t bother him,” you said teasingly, “ you already got your treat.”

Arthur let out a chuckle as Lily pushed his head with her nose. “Easy, girl.” He patted her muzzle and gently pushed her away. Lily snorted and shook her head, turning away to start munching at the hay he’d thoughtfully filled her trough with earlier.

You thought about how good he seemed to be with the horses, how he knew what to do to care for them, and the question popped up once again. Who had he been before you’d found him? What sort of life had he led? He was clearly skilled with horses and how to treat them. There was no doubt in your mind that he probably knew how to ride them, too. So who or what could he have possibly been? “Arthur?”

He broke his gaze away from the horses and looked at you, “Hm?”

How were you going to ask the question without sounding too peckish for the answers? Was it truly any of your business what his past was like, who he’d been before you found him? “Um, I noticed how well you get along with horses … did you use to work with them?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his thick brows drawing down as he lowered his head, breaking the eye contact between both of you. It seemed as though he was getting lost in his memories once again. “I did,” he said after a few moments, his voice nearly sounding like gravel. “Used to have one of my own, but … it passed away recently.”

You felt your heart suddenly ache for him, and you stepped forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

He nodded, acknowledging your touch with a small smile.

You nearly wanted to kick yourself for asking yet another question that just ended up bringing more pain to Arthur. Even though you couldn’t possibly know what he’d lived through and what he’d experienced, this man had clearly had a very rough life before you’d found him, and anything you tried to find out from his past seemed to do nothing but hurt him.

Truly, his life must’ve been a harsh one. Whatever happened to make him this way, to put him through so much anguish, it was clear to you that his answers to your questions were not going to be good ones. You decided to leave it alone for now, to let him tell his story whenever he was ready.

You gave him another smile in an effort to reassure him, to wordlessly tell him that you were no longer going to pry.

Arthur’s eyes, those beautiful sapphire emeralds, practically sparkled as he looked down at you, his lips stretching into a small but beautiful smile.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Arthur couldn’t help but appreciate the comfort Y/N was trying to give him, and he gave her a small smile to reassure her that he was alright, that she had nothing to worry about for asking him these things, he couldn’t blame her for being so curious about him.

But hell, he didn’t know how he was ever going to answer the questions she would have about his past. He feared that she was eventually going to find out who he’d been, what he’d been, what he’d done. He’d never even given her his last name in fear that she would recognize it and end up piecing together the undeniable fact that he was actually a wanted outlaw, and not just the innocent, normal man she had come to know him as.

He thought back on the kiss.

If she ever found out who he’d been, would she regret having done that with him? Would she throw him out of her house right on his ass?

Dammit, why had he done it, he thought. He’d had no right. She’d even pulled away from him when he’d tried taking it further, which he knew he’d been wrong for doing.

Of course she had rejected him, what woman in their right mind wouldn’t? He knew he didn’t deserve to have anyone in his life, not after the dark path he’d chosen to follow. It was no surprise to him that she’d broken away.

Then suddenly he thought of what she’d said earlier, that she’d never kissed anyone before. … Was that it? Had he moved too fast for her? Damn him, but was he an idiot for possibly not having thought of that sooner? He wanted to find out the reason she’d pulled away, even if he didn’t deserve to know the answer.

“You said you never kissed anyone before,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. He cleared his throat, “Is that why you pulled away?”

Her eyes widened at his question, and he wanted to punch himself in his own stupid face as he looked down to avoid her gaze. Why the hell did he even bother —

“Arthur,” her soft voice interrupted his thoughts, and he raised his eyes back up to look at her. Her expression was soft, and he could see a hint of blush filling her cheeks. “To be honest with you, I think I pulled away because … it was a lot to take in.” She lifted a hand to run her fingers though her hair, fiddling her finger through some of the loose strands as if she was nervous. “I was just worried, because you’re still sick. I — I wasn’t’t sure if the herbs and medication were mixing up your thoughts, so … I wasn’t going to let you do something that you probably didn’t mean to do, or that you would regret later.”

Arthur felt his heart nearly lift at her words, a heavy weight that had been sitting on his chest suddenly disappearing. So she’d thought that he hadn’t been thinking straight because of his treatments, and she’d feared that she would have been taking advantage of him if she’d allowed him to get carried away.

“You ain’t gotta worry ’bout that, honey.” He told her, his voice low and deep in an effort to soothe her. She gazed up at him curiously, as if to ask what he meant by that. He looked at those lips of hers, wet and inviting.

He leaned forward slowly, making sure she was comfortable with what he was about to do. But she didn’t move, and so he took that as an invitation.

Just as their lips were about to meet, that damn brother of hers shouted out from outside, “Y/N! Dinner’s all ready!”

She suddenly jerked, and Arthur straightened back up, fire in his eyes as he glared over at the open doorway of the stables, feeling like he wanted to burn everything else but Y/N at that moment.

“I — I think we should go and eat,” she said, her voice sounding so soft, as if she were shy about what had just been about to happen. He turned his head to look at her again. That blush was back in her cheeks, making her look so fragile. She stepped back and headed for the doorway. As soon as she reached it, she looked over her shoulder to see that he was still standing in the same spot he’d been in. “C’mon, Arthur!”

Arthur lowered his dark brows in irritation, placing both hands on his belt in a tight grip to avoid possibly murdering her brother for the intrusion, even if he hadn’t meant it. There was no way Austin could see what he and Y/N had been about to do.

But dammit, still!

He followed her back to the cabin where that damn brother of hers stood on the porch, waving nonchalantly at both of them. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the man, he was probably going to need to lasso Austin up at some point, just to keep him from interrupting anymore in the future.

— To Be Continued

[wordsofwhisper]

fic: doom days (2)

A ‘ALL THIS BAD BLOOD’ SEQUAL! (You can read that one here)

It’s been eight years since the house burned down. Adrian, Arthur, Zane, and Isobel have packed up the pieces of their lives again. Adrian and Arthur continue to struggle and thrive as a couple, figuring out how to make each other happy while their past is still haunting them. Zane is in office after the fall of the government, but it’s not as easy to change age-old rules that some aren’t ready to let go of yet, as for some there is a lot more at stake than others. And Isobel is turning sixteen, which means her soulmate connection could finally happen…

This is Izzy’s three-chapter story!

Previously: chapter 1

2.

Do you remember what you said to me?

'Cause we lost track of time

~

Izzy felt tired when she woke up, only to realise that she had fallen asleep in her day clothes. She had hoped last night was just a bad dream, but it wasn’t. Her best friend Jack, who was also her secret boyfriend, was not her soulmate. She didn’t feel like celebrating her birthday now.

After a long shower, until she stopped crying again, she got dressed and headed downstairs. No doubt would her father and uncle be waiting for her to wish her a happy birthday. Sixteen was a big deal, which was why she had wanted to celebrate it with a big party, but now she didn’t want to party at all.

She followed the scent of waffles, her favourite kind of breakfast, which came from the kitchen. She tried to smile as she walked in to see her uncle, but smiling was hard at the moment.

Adrian turned around to face her. Seeing him smile so happily upon seeing her made her smile a little brighter. “Happy birthday, Izzy!” He came over and gave her a hug before he quickly moved back to check on the waffles. “I’m making your favourite breakfast.”

“Blueberry waffles?”

Adrian hummed. “It’s a special day today. Your father has left early to go to the office. Something about an emergency meeting, but he promised to be back in time for your party. You just missed him.” 

Izzy didn’t answer as she sat down at the table. This immediately seemed to draw Adrian’s attention as he dished the blueberry waffles onto a plate and placed it in front of Izzy, but a worried look was masking his face.

“What’s wrong, Izzy?”

She looked up. “Will you tell me how it felt for you when you first met uncle Arthur? When you realised he was your soulmate. Please, Adrian?” Her voice was soft.

“Again?” But there was a smile on Adrian’s face as he sat down with her after grabbing his mug of tea from the counter. “I wasn’t aware of it at first. Not because I didn’t feel it, but because I didn’t know what it meant. It was like this sudden warmth fell over me, like someone had wrapped me in a blanket. It felt safe and comfortable, but also frightening. 

“Do you remember me asking you about soulmates?” Adrian asked, and Izzy nodded. “You helped me a lot to understand what it meant that day. But how it feels like for me, it can feel different for you.”

Izzy remained quiet.

“Did something happen?”

Izzy hadn’t touched her waffles at all yet, but she looked up, a slight blush on her cheeks as she quickly shook her head. “No! Nothing happened. Why would something happen?” Nobody knew yet she even had a boyfriend and now they wouldn’t find out either as she and Jack were definitely going to break up. He would find his soulmate and Izzy would just be another girl in his past. 

A past time.

Before Adrian could ask more, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell. He stood up and left the kitchen to open the door. Izzy was just staring down at her waffles, her fork trying to squeeze one of the blueberries that kept popping away. Only when her stomach started to growl, she finally picked up the knife and cut into the waffles to eat.

It was only when the voices came closer that she realised who was at the door.

“Happy birthday, Isobel.”

Madeleine, her father’s fiancée, came walking into the kitchen, followed by Adrian who was filling a mug with the freshly made tea from the pot before putting it down in front of the woman. She was still beautiful with her long golden blonde hair, which was neatly wrapped at the back of her head.

“Thank you.” Izzy was done with the waffles as she put the cutlery down on the empty place. She had devoured those waffles.

She liked her a lot. Madeleine was nice and beautiful, and she made her father really happy. He deserved that after being hurt for so long.

“Are you ready for our fun girls’ day?” There was a friendly smile on her face. It was clear that she had been looking forward to spending time alone with Izzy, as much as Izzy had been looking forward to it as well. Even if she had forgotten it for a little bit at that moment.

They were going shopping for a dress before they were going to get their hair and nails done for her party later. Maybe she would even get some new shoes. All she knew was that her father wanted her to look the prettiest and get whatever she wanted. A week ago, it was the best gift ever.

Today?

She wished Jack was her soulmate instead.

Izzy really tried to have fun and enjoy herself with Madeleine, but it was difficult. After leaving the house and they drove into town, she did get distracted for a little bit when they walked into the boutique and Madeleine made her try on all the prettiest─and probably most expensive─dresses they had, before she fell in love with an off-the-shoulders lilac coloured, knee height dress with a tulle bottom. They found a pair of beautiful similar coloured block heels for underneath her dress and the outfit was completed with a flower tiara. 

Once they were inside the salon after lunch, getting their nails done, was when Izzy’s mind started to drift off again. It was because she didn’t have the beautiful dresses to distract her again. Because she was sitting in the chair, relaxed, while someone else was taking care of her. Her mind easily slipped back to last night and a somber look fell over her once more.

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve been looking so sad all day long or am I supposed to start guessing?”

Izzy didn’t know where to even begin. Even if Madeleine had been there since she was eight years old, she wasn’t too close with her. As much as she liked her, she didn’t know how to connect with her. But she didn’t want to talk to her father about what was happening now either, or Adrian or Uncle Arthur for that matter. They might understand it the most, but they were boys. 

Thinking about it, Madeleine had done a lot for her in the past as well. When her breasts started to grow and her body started to change, she explained it to her and even went to get her first bra. When she got her first period, she had been really nice and explained everything before they had curled up together, eating all the chocolate until they were nauseous.

“Is it a boy?” Madeleine started guessing when Izzy took too long.

Her eyes dropped down to her lap. “Maybe…”

“You can talk to me, Isobel. I won’t tell your father. It will be our secret.”

It took her only half a minute before the tears came rolling down her cheeks and she told Madeleine what happened. She told her about Jack and how much she loved him, how she had snuck out last night to meet him before midnight, how she had wanted him to be her soulmate and ran away when she didn’t feel that connection with him. She told her about how they were planning to tell her father tonight at the party that they were together and that he couldn’t tell them no when he learned that they were soulmates, but that it wasn’t going to happen now. Izzy was pouring her heart out until she had no words left to say.

Madeleine reached her hand out to Izzy’s and held it. Nothing else. She just held it and let her know that she was there.

That’s all that Izzy needed, because she wasn’t looking for advice.

They ended up having a really good time for the rest of the afternoon, finishing up their nails on both their hands and feet before moving to the mirror to get their hair done. By the time that they were done and drove back home, they were smiling and laughing together. Madeleine didn’t bring up Jack or ask Izzy more about that and Izzy actually felt like celebrating her birthday again at the party later tonight.

They were bringing in the bags with their outfits for the evenings, which immediately was taken by Adrian after he had opened the door for them.

“You have a guest, Izzy,” he said with a smile. “He’s in the library.”

There was only one person that she hadn't seen in a couple of days: her uncle Arthur. He’d been gone for a couple of days now, but she knew he would be back in time for her party. Uncle had promised.

Izzy almost ran to the library and opened the door, expecting to see her uncle. Well, she did, but he definitely wasn’t by himself.

“Jack,” Izzy gasped.

It was Arthur who stood up from the couch he was sitting on across Jack, heading towards her. 

“No ‘Uncle Arthur’?” he asked her in a seriousness, until a grin appeared. His arms open up to take her into a hug. “Happy birthday, little one.” His hair was longer, half of it hiding the burn scar on the half of his face and neck.

It felt good to be in her uncle’s arms again. She’d missed him and was happy he was back just in time for her birthday party, although she had no reason to believe that he would purposely miss it.

“Thank you, Uncle Arthur. When did you come back?”

“Late last night, but you were all asleep. When I woke up, you were already gone for your girls day with Madeleine.”

They had missed each other by mere minutes. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” With that, he left the library and it was just her and Jack.

And the silence.

“What are you doing here?”

Jack, who had gotten up from the couch when she had hugged her uncle, walked towards her but stopped when Izzy stretched out her arm to him.

“Did I do something at the clearing?”

Izzy shook her head. She couldn’t find the right words to speak right now. Still distraught from realising that Jack wasn’t her soulmate, what was she going to do if he did find his? 

“It’s me, Jack. I’m not your soulmate and I never will be. I can’t do this with you only to have my heart broken all over again when you do meet your soulmate. I’m sorry.”  There were tears in her eyes as she stepped back when his hand reached out. “I think you should go.”

“Izzy.” It broke her heart the way he spoke her name.

“Please, Jack.”

One last look at him before she turned away, leaving the room. Leaving Jack. 

Letting him go.

Izzy was crying her eyes out the moment she was out the door, which made it harder for her to see ahead of her as she was running towards the staircase to hide out in her bedroom. Her path was crossed by a sandy-haired boy, his hair longer than regularly,refusing to get a haircut. Before Izzy noticed, she had bumped into the boy.

Her gaze met his before she felt that pull.

Oh, no!

Izzy stopped, her eyes growing bigger, realising who she had bumped into. 

Oscar Cook.

Then everything went black.

[arthurjdrake]

TIMING: Simultaneously with the finale chatzy. LOCATION: Arthur’s House PARTIES: Arthur & @humanmoodring SUMMARY: Nadia and Arthur finally have a heart to heart about the ghost that continues to haunt her memories and discuss the healing possibility that help from others might lend with ZERO interruptions.

TW: Vomit, Descriptions of injury & Blood

With Nadia coming over for a meal and general catch-up Arthur had taken the time to speak to Elena (as best as he could converse with the ghost) about staying upstairs if possible. She hadn’t seemed too happy if the message on his fridge was anything to go by, but judging by the lack of interference he had to his cooking he figured he’d convinced her well enough for the time being. The food was just in the oven - chicken parmigiana wrapped with parma ham, smothered in a homemade tomato sauce and mozzarella with a side of jersey salad and creamy mashed potatoes. He’d also gotten out a bottle of red to share, keenly aware of the fact they had also talked about discussing her mysterious history. Life had taught him one thing, and that was such talks were often helped along with the fortification of a good drink. He was just grabbing the plates out of the cupboard when the doorbell rang, hurrying through the house he pulled the door open with a smile. “Hey there, come in, come in” he ushered stepping back “not too tricky to find me I hope?”

The first thing Nadia noticed when she pulled up to Arthur’s house was that it was really fucking nice. Not in, like, an ostentatious way, but still impressive. She let out a low whistle as she got out of her truck and brushed off the front of her sweater a bit nervously, the material soft and comforting and nice even if the weather was getting pretty warm. Sweaters always seemed like an extra layer of protection to Nadia, and she felt like she needed it. Not because she thought Arthur was going to judge her harshly; she didn’t think that at all. But she’d never had this conversation in person. Not really. However, she wanted to tell Arthur in person. After everything he’d done for her, he deserved it. More than, really. In person was a bit more vulnerable, though, forcing her to deal with emotions, her own emotions, when writing allowed her to kind of distance herself from that. Still, she needed to do this. She smiled at Arthur as he let her in. “Not tricky at all. Nice house, by the way.” She looked around at the open space, relaxing a bit. It suited him, warm and inviting just as he’d been for as long as she’d known him. She shot him a look of concern. “How are you feeling, by the way? All healed up?”

Arthur could understand the use of clothes to help present the appearance and persona you wanted the world to believe and see you for. People, regardless of how good or non-judgemental they claimed to be, all formed first impressions by sight even if it was subconscious. Unlike the more formal appearance he presented at work, typically opting for suits and far more formal attire here in the space of his his home Arthur’s attire was by far more casual. A white tri-blend tee layered under a black and white flannel check shirt with the sleeves folded up above the elbow left intricately monochrome inked (and typically covered) arms free to play host. “Thanks,” he grinned warmly, “not bad isn’t it? Here, take your shoes off… I’ve got food on.” Though the moment of concern softened his grin to a smile, naturally inclined to settle other people’s concerns with words or general physical affection he reached out touching her elbow briefly though the heat of his skin always came as a shock to most people considering his body temperature averaged around 120°F. “All fixed and in working order, promise. Come on, wine and food that I hope you won’t judge too harshly considering your mum’s standards, yeah?”

It was nice to hang out with Arthur in a more laid back setting. Not that working stopped him and Nadia from teasing each other, but there was still always the added factor of them making sure to spend time researching. But the relaxing atmosphere was helping her considerably. It was cool to see Arthur’s tattoos, to see him as a young man and not just a wise, immortal being. This could almost be considered normal, if he wasn’t actually a wise, immortal being and she wasn’t here to tell him about her life. They were just two colleagues, two friends, eating dinner and catching up after a series of hectic weeks. “It’s fantastic, Arthur. And it suits you, too.” She unlaced her boots and sat them neatly near the front door before following him to the kitchen. Arthur’s touch was warm, hot, really, but she didn’t mind. She never felt warm anymore, hadn’t much since she woke up, so the heat was nice. “I’m glad you’re doing better.” Nadia followed him to the kitchen, where the food he’d prepared already smelled wonderful and, she had no doubt, would give her ma a run for her money. “Dude, I’m sure it’s gonna be fantastic. Especially if those cheesecakes were any indication.”

There were certain boundaries that had to be maintained at work, but it was nice to just step back and relax. “A part of me wonders if it’s too big… But in comparison to where I was it’s so much better,” Arthur explained as he wandered through to the kitchen while Nadia unlaced her boots. “It’s not really surprising, I patch up fast even from the worst of states,” there was mild humour in his tone even if the topic wasn’t the most cheery. By the time she joined him he was already pouring a couple of glasses of wine out, setting them on the counter as he went to plate up the salad. “Maybe, can’t say I’ve ever had to compete with someone’s mother when it comes to cooking though.” He grabbed a tea towel, folding it over and pulled open the oven to grab the baking tray out “where did you grow up? What was your life like before… All this supernatural shit? Can’t say I’ve ever asked.” After all, tonight was about getting to know one another.

It was a lot of space, probably too much for Nadia, but that didn’t make it any less homey. Touches of Arthur were all throughout the place as she looked around, eventually wandering to the kitchen. Even though she trusted his words, she looked him over closely. She couldn’t see any noticeable signs of damage. She gave a nod, pleased that he was better. “Those tears really do work wonders, huh?” She took a glass of wine and watched as he dealt with the food, wondering if she should help. “I mean, you stand a fighting chance. It’s been years since I’ve eaten my mom’s cooking.” God, could she even remember what it tasted like? “Do you need any help?” She could probably help him get plates and utensils if he showed her where everything was. As for her past… “I mean, the here and now’s always been more vital, dude.” She felt awkward; after months of giving the bear minimum, she was now having to figure out how to share about her life again. Like she’d ever done it before. Even back before White Crest, before the possession, she’d been shit at this kind of thing. “Uh, I’m from Phoenix, Arizona.” She smiled a bit. “Sometimes it’s kind of funny that I work for an actual phoenix. Can’t really lose my roots, I guess. But, uh, my dad’s Cuban. My mom’s Italian-American, from Chicago. How the fuck they ended up in the fucking desert of all places is anyone’s guess, but…” That was very little about her, about her life. “I mean,” she laughed drily, “my life kind of sucked before I woke up here. I was a lonely kid, a lonely teenager, only one real friend in college. Then, she left, and I went a little wild for awhile and,” and she got possessed, but the words were thick in her mouth. She took a drink. “Yeah. But what about you? What’s this life been like?”

“Bring you back from the brink of death more or less, last I heard they’re one of the rarest commodities on the black market… Not easy to get your hands on them. Phoenixes are rare to come upon and even harder to pick out of a crowd.” Arthur didn’t mind, it wasn’t the most complex meal but it tasted good and that was what mattered. “I think I’m alright here, could you grab the knives and forks out that draw there? Second one down,” he pointed out a drawer not far from where she was. “True, but it’s nice to know where people come from,” he countered lightly not in a prying sense but a simple sharing of opinion from someone that liked to get to know others. “Huh, go figure,” he laughed quietly at the irony but grew quiet as Nadia spoke.

Taking the plates over to the table nearby and setting them down he nodded along, but his expression grew sympathetic as she trailed off and he didn’t press for the time being. He settled in his chair, contemplating the answer “it’s been… I’ve been lucky, Mercy’s always tried her best whenever I’ve had to be rehomed… Always tried to put me with good people” it didn’t always work, but she tried and that’s what counted in his mind. “I was adopted by a couple from London, stayed there most of my life - school, the works. I was an only child which had its perks but I think I would’ve liked a sibling... My parents had… big expectations for me, and it was hard not to cave under the effort of trying to carry and live up to them.”

He took a sip of wine seeming to grow quieter, “I’m thankful for every opportunity they gave me but it was hard - coming to terms and trying to understand what I was without anyone there to help me understand…” he rested his chin on his hand “thought I was losing my mind when I started getting flashes of all these past lifetimes. Doctors couldn’t figure out what was going on. Did every scan under the sun… Eventually I knew better than to mention it… Until it eventually came back what I was.” It hadn’t been the easiest journey but he’d gotten there. “Anyway, how’s the food?”

“You need to keep safe, then.” Hearing that his tears were incredibly rare and valuable did nothing to help soothe Nadia. Worrying about Arthur getting attacked because of what he was added itself to her list of things to look out for when it came to her friends. She grabbed the silverware and helped him set the table before they sat down, a lot on her mind.

She smiled a bit as he mentioned how Mercy made sure he was well taken care of. “She’s a good friend, I can tell.” She remembered the older woman’s request, trying to think about how to best go about asking him what he wanted for his birthday. She’d figure out how to do that later. At the mention of him being an only child, she nodded. “I was an only kid, too. I was enough trouble on my own, and I was the kind of kid that wanted-- well, needed to be alone sometimes. Both my parents came from big families, though. I’m sure they wanted more kids, but I was a handful, I guess.”

She took a bite of food, savoring the flavor of it. She couldn’t remember her mother’s cooking. She couldn’t. It was a bit depressing to think about, but she figured that if Arthur’s cooking wasn’t just as good, it was a close fucking second. There were so many things from her life in Phoenix that she was beginning to realize that she was forgetting. The taste of her ma’s cooking, the type of beer her father drank, the color of Brooke’s eyes. She knew what it was like to get flashes of things that she didn’t understand, even if it was for different reasons that Arthur. “I think you’ve done a good job with getting from where you were to where you are now, for what it’s worth,” she told him. She took another bite of food. After she swallowed, she said, “It’s fucking fantastic.”

“I’m as safe as houses, barely anyone knows about me - besides you, Evelyn and Mercy… That’s it. And it’s how I’d prefer to keep it.” Arthur often got frustrated when people treated him with kid gloves because of his physicality, and it occasionally led to random acts of attempted heroics to try and prove them otherwise - which almost always ended up proving their point that he was extremely breakable. “Plus,” he added as an afterthought, “out of most supernaturals phoenixes are usually the ones that blend in the easiest… Except for the pinfeathers. But other than that we don’t have weird feeding habits, we don’t prey on people… We just… live.”

“She is. A pain in the ass at times, but I wouldn’t trade her for anything,” he admitted fondly. It was nice to be able to relate to someone in a way, “it’s weird, I get flashes of my first life - fragments really, but I had loads of siblings and I hated it… Yet now I hate not having them,” he supposed it just went to show what you took for granted at times. “Ah, yeah I was always too worried to act up as a kid… Felt like every moment had to count for something or else I’d somehow failed…” not the healthiest mentality for a child to have, but looking back he could recognise his faults. “But I get that - wanting to be alone, silence is good when you just need to recharge but sometimes you need people to balance that…”

He ate a few mouthfuls, a comfortable silence settling over the room between the clinks of cutlery and occasional sip of wine. Nadia’s remark broke the silence and he gave her a smile, “you too… You’re a long way from home,” it was an idle remark, made in passing contemplation of the little information she’d given “ life isn’t easy, but we all make the best of what we have don’t we? It’s what we do with it that truly counts for anything.” His smile broadened at the compliment, “if that’s the verdict on the dinner no clue what you’ll say about dessert.”

“That’s good,” Nadia said, glad she’d been cautious when talking to people about Arthur. If anyone guessed anything about him, it was probably that the man might be a spellcaster of some kind. She really had thought he was, like, a wizard or something after the way he’d healed after their first meeting, with his more bookish tendencies, and, as he’d mentioned, his mostly human facade. “You blend in pretty well. I don’t think I’d have guessed what you were if you hadn’t told me. I mean, I knew a bit about phoenixes in mythology, but I don’t know if I’d have figured you out.”

She smiled at the way he fondly talked of Mercy, reminding her of the way the woman referred to him online. They cared about each other, and it was nice to see. Nice to be able to feel, though it was muted and muddled. “I mean, you two have known each other for forever. Literally.” What was it like to know someone for that long? She couldn’t imagine. She also couldn’t imagine siblings. “I think it was for the best that I grew up alone.” Though, who knew? Maybe she’d be better at the emotions thing. Or, possibly, she’d be worse. “I didn’t act up too much. I kept my grades up and was usually quiet, even though I listened to the wrong kinds of music. My father and I got frustrated with each other a lot. He was always mad, and I always wanted to know why. When I couldn’t figure it out, I gave him reasons.” She took a drink, feeling like she was talking too much. She was talking too much, and about the wrong things. This wasn’t why she’d come here.

Nadia was a long way from home. She was as far away from home as she could be while still being in the same country. She missed home sometimes so much that it ached. But she knew she couldn’t go back. The few people that had she’d known and loved didn’t feel the same about her. “We’re both a long way from home,” she said quietly. She raised her glass to him. “You’re right. We’ve just got to make the best of it. Personally, I’m glad to be here. In spite of how I got here.” She grinned. “If deserts better than dinner, you might be stuck with me. Sorry, but you’ve provided me with a job, good conversation, and stellar food. I’d be a fool to leave.”

“That’s how I’d prefer it to be, most people make the mistake… I’m happy to let them believe it.” If not for certain other traits it was vaguely passable and Arthur would happily stick to that story because it meant keeping him off people’s radar for what he truly was.

“Yeah, kind of crazy when you think about it. She’s barely ever missed a birthday or like-- anything. Even though I can’t even remember my original one now.” It was part of what kept them both sane and in touch with the world around them. “Though doesn’t mean she doesn’t drive me mad at times,” he huffed, but regardless the words were spoken fondly. “You think?” who could say what anyone would be, circumstances and situations played a role in affecting how a person turned out. It didn’t do to dwell for long, but it was a curious thing to contemplate occasionally. Hearing Nadia explain her dynamic with her father caused him to cock his head a little, “it’s hard. Parents are just trying their best to stop kids falling into the same traps they did… But often I find in trying to avoid them they often help steer a path directly towards them anyway. Sometimes you just need to know when to be upfront.”

“True…” he raised his own cup marginally, “to finding new homes” and new families. Though that was left unsaid. “Yeah? I’m still not sure I’m sold - like on one hand it’s great to be in a place with so many other supernaturals but the risk of death or serious maiming is a big damper on truly enjoying it. You know?” He finished up his plate, looking humoured by the remark “well, offer’s always there if you need a place to crash and there’s always food to spare in my kitchen.” Gathering the plates up he headed back to the kitchen, dropping them in the dishwasher before returning with a plate of coconut and passion fruit slices. “Come on,” he waved her over from the dining table towards the lounge and the vivarium situated to one side of it where his tortoises roamed. “Get comfy.” Then they could sit down and talk.

“It’s certainly a good way to protect yourself,” Nadia said, still thinking about what Arthur mentioned about his tears being valuable on supernatural black markets. She dreaded to think what would happen to her friend if someone captured him to use just to make a few dollars.

“Birthdays are pretty important,” she said with a grin. “Speaking of birthdays, when’s yours?” She knew the answer thanks to Mercy, but it’d be best to hold off on that information. She still needed to figure out what he might possibly want, both for the valkyrie and for herself. She wanted to get him something nice, too. Even if she went with what she told Mercy and went the more homemade route. Time, effort, those were the kinds of gifts she’d appreciated when she actually gave a damn about that kind of thing. Birthdays hadn’t been a big deal for Nadia in years, though, even before the possession. These days, she’d appreciated being about to not think about it, drink a little by herself, and then not sleep. It’d been an average day of a birthday, and that had been what she wanted. She appreciated Arthur’s approach to talking about parents. It gave her a good out. “Yeah, everybody says they want better for their kids. Sometimes they just, like, go about it the wrong way, I guess.”

That was the kind of toast she could get behind. She took a drink and laughed, thinking about all the shit she’d been through during the last few months. “Oh, White Crest is hell. Like, probably literally? I was getting sent giant pallets of salt by a company run by demons. But I’ve felt more comfortable here than I have anywhere else, even back home. I have a job that I’ve always wanted and more friends than I’ve ever had in my life.” She grinned as they moved to the sitting area. “I might not crash on your couch, but don’t tempt me to come raid your fridge, Arthur.” She got situated, looking around for the tortoises she’d heard so much about. She was putting off the inevitable, really.

“It’s worked this long, though so far as the hunters I’ve met in town… Most don’t really seem all that good at their jobs, which… isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Arthur remarked thoughtfully. “But yeah, it’s worked so far so… I’ll keep on that track.”

“Mine? Depends, the original - I can’t remember but apparently it was sometime in winter but in this lifetime it’s around the twentieth of June… That’s the day I’ve celebrated though it might be out by a little bit.” Considering there was a period between him coming back and Mercy finding a family to place him with but more or less that was the way it had always been. It worked well enough so no point trying to fix what wasn’t broken. “How about you?” It’d be useful to know for himself, so he could try to arrange something for Nadia when hers did come around. It seemed like the right and good thing to do after all.

“It’s been referred to as a hellmouth in most of the texts I’ve read soooo… take that one how you will” he huffed, this truly was one of the most weird and interesting places he’d ever lived in his life. “By demons? You didn’t sign any contracts right?” He shifted as he settled on the sofa, folding a leg up comfortably. “You’re welcome to it, always spare food. I’ve got four spare rooms going upstairs as well if you ever do feel the need especially to escape those uh, screams…” But that was beside the point, he took a bite of the dessert square looking over at her. “So… You don’t like ghosts?” it was a gentle prod to hopefully lay the path for the true conversation this night was meant to be about.

Snorting a bit, Nadia thought about the hunters that she personally knew. Alain and Kaden were both good guys, even if she didn’t believe in the same things as them. She couldn’t imagine them hunting Arthur down just to sell his tears on the black market. But, then again, she didn’t really know them while they were hunting. Better safe than sorry. “Yeah, that’s smart.”

She nodded. “Twentieth’s pretty soon,” she said with a smile. “You know I’m gonna get you something, right? You could help a gal out, you know, give her a hint, maybe?” She twirled the stem of her wine glass slowly. “I mean, it was back in February. The twenty-third. I didn’t really celebrate.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t that big of a deal.” All things considered, it had been an alright birthday. It had just been a regular Sunday, which is exactly what she’d wanted.

“Hellmouth is fuckng right,” Nadia muttered. “No, no contract. Someone signed me up for a subscription. It’s been, like, cancelled now, though.” She relaxed a little, taking another drink of her wine. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind. My apartment’s mostly scream free… Mostly.” She grimaced a bit, thinking about the essential oils subscription and what a bitch that was going to be. “On second thought, I might be over here, like, once a month. Just when she gets a package delivered.” She picked up a desert square of her own, but, with his question, she wasn’t feeling too hungry. Nadia gave a slight laugh. “Not really ghosts so much as one in particular. But they,” she paused, “scare me.” She ran a hand through her hair. “One of them kind of, like, ruined my life, so.”

“It is,” Arthur agreed to the date being near, but really what did it matter? It was just another year and another birthday. “Honestly, I don’t have much I want. I’d be happy with anything you got me you know? The sentiment is more what matters… Really I’d be happier with like… people coming over, having a meal and just a nice ordinary night you know? Pizza and beers, maybe a barbecue - I haven’t had a good barbecue in ages.”

“Signed you up for a subscription? What are they? Fae? They love their deals, almost as much as spellcasters do” he groaned as he leaned back into the sofa pulling one leg up and tucking it comfortably under the other that still hung off the cushions. “Mostly? She hasn’t done anything recently has she?” he paused gauging Nadia’s reaction to his next question “I’m guessing you know about her… supernatural thing right?”

But talk turned to ghosts, and Arthur tried to be tactful in his line of conversation. Though there was no easy way to let a conversation like this come about. “Right… I got the impression… Do you… I know it’s hard for you,” he started sympathetically, “do you want to walk me through what happened?”

Well, that was absolutely no help to Nadia for Mercy, but it did solidify her thought that he’d probably enjoy something with thought and effort over something expensive. “You know, a barbecue doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I still have leftover fireworks from a thing,” she said. Which, she’d told Erin it’d be for a barbecue. This would certainly make it less of a lie.

She laughed a little bit. “She thought she was doing something nice. It’s the thought that counts. And, like, at least I can look back on it and laugh, now.” Of course, she wasn’t laughing any time Regan’s subscriptions came in and the screaming started, but still. “I mean, she can get a bit… loud sometimes,” she said, wincing a bit. “Yeah, I know about her thing. It’s the worst kept secret ever.” She couldn’t say what Regan’s thing was since she was still bound by Deirdre’s promise, but she figured, if Arthur was mentioning screaming, then he knew. Really, the fact that Arthur knew wasn’t even surprising. At the rate things were going, everyone was going to know about Regan before Regan even knew.

Nadia took a bite of her desert square. It was good, but it still stuck to her throat. She swallowed tightly. “Yeah, yeah, I can walk you-- I mean, there’s really not too much to tell.” She laughed breathlessly, humorlessly. “I was, like, a junior in college. Everything was shitty. We-- me, my parents, my single friend-- we thought I was depressed, which, I mean. But I was getting some bad blackouts, sometimes for days at a time. My friend, she-- I mean, she left. Whatever.” She took a long sip of wine. “It got worse, nothing was helping. I’d wake up and not know where I was, who I was, what I was doing.” She could see herself in a mirror, covered in blood. Whose blood? Whose? “Then, I don’t know. I woke up in White Crest in late December a few months ago,” she said quietly. “Some kids had helped me out. A human soul’s worth thirty thousand dollars, in case you were wondering.”

“A thing?” Arthur inquired curiously, though considering how often fireworks were used for things in America it wasn’t all that surprising of a thing to hear someone say. “Well, if you want to come along you’re more than welcome to.”

“I guess so, though salt seems like an interesting thing to be signed up for…” Useful for ghosts amongst other supernatural things he supposed but he could see how bulk orders could soon stack up to be infuriating. “It is, Kaden accidentally told me but I wasn’t planning on mentioning it to her considering how she gets whenever that sort of stuff comes up in conversation.” It wasn’t surprising how entrenched people could become when the foundations of their very reality of life seemed to be under threat. In a way, Arthur felt bad for her but equally it was important to recognise the danger her denial posed to those that were around her. “The issue is, the longer her denial goes on the more harm she poses to those around her - including you, which unfortunately doesn’t sit very well with me.”

As Nadia spoke, Arthur remained quiet occasionally taking a sip of wine but otherwise he left her to tell her tale not wishing to interrupt her already staccato rhythm. “Do you know anything about the ghost that possessed you?” from the fragments of an overall tale it was clear enough to him that was what had happened. He set his glass aside, sitting forwards and reaching for Nadia’s hand slowly. A quiet show of support and reminder that he would always stand in her corner no matter what. Though he knew in a town like White Crest it wasn’t easy to say she wasn’t at risk again? “Has anything else like that happened while you’ve been here?” he asked, rubbing his thumb in a small soothing arc over her hand.

“I ended up not using them in the way I thought,” Nadia said breezily, not bothering to explain what exactly her “thing” was. Probably best to not mention blowing up the mime restaurant only to end up with the town invaded by mimes for weeks. Especially when those mimes ended up landing him in the hospital.

“Yeah, you ask a neighbor to borrow some salt one time, and you’re stuck with a reputation.” Not an unjustifiable one, though. Nadia kept salt lines up around her house for months, even after the banishment had been put up. She laughed a bit, thinking about just how Arthur bringing up Regan’s banshee-ness would go in a conversation. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. But she’s really not dangerous. Not intentionally. And as long as I can predict when something might upset her,” she flinched a bit, “which, okay, not the easiest, but she’d only really hurt me in person, and I can-- I’m a-- I feel people’s emotions-- empath, so if she starts getting upset or whatever I can kind of prepare for things.”

This time, when Nadia laughed, it was sharp and insincere. “She was a fucking criminal,and she made me a criminal, and she ruined my life for six fucking years.” She sagged a bit under Arthur’s touch, one knee pulled up to her chest and her head resting on it. She didn’t know why it was both relieving and exhausting to tell him this. Maybe it was because it was in person, and his comfort felt real, and having him be here and listen to her meant so much. She should tell him the truth, that she was scared about getting possessed again, that it’d happened more than once, that she knew her ghost hadn’t given up quite yet. Instead, she gave him a watery smile. “It’s been a bit touch and go for a while, but I should be in the clear, ghost wise, now. Just lingering shit, you know? I’m sure your ghost is great.”

“Well, I love fireworks and anything fire related so you’re welcome to bring them along if you want. We can annoy the neighbours with them.”

Arthur laughed at the sentiment, it was kind of funny to hear her say that out loud and the idea of these ridiculously cursed subscriptions was a little bit funny. “Who else got one? I’m curious to know what hellish gifts people were getting from this company.” Nadia did her best to dissuade his concerns, unfortunately, he was schooled enough to know that glass wasn’t the only thing a sound that loud could damage. “Do you know how sound breaks things?” it was a question of genuine curiosity but he explained anyway slipping easily into his more studious nature “it makes things vibrate. The pitch influences how fast those things vibrate and if it’s high and sustained enough things break because of that….” He paused, Nadia might have faith in Regan’s control but Arthur wasn’t quite so certain on the topic “the control is what concerns me… From the stuff I’ve seen people posting online about damage and stuff she doesn’t have it. And depending on what kind of decibels those screams are hitting… If someone’s stood too close they could be seriously injured and they could potentially die. There’s not much that can prepare you for death - and that’s me speaking from experience.” Perhaps it was a solemn subject to touch on, but he wanted to make sure Nadia was truly prepared for the potential consequences of continuing to associate with Regan. Perhaps it was unfair, Arthur knew it wasn’t her fault but Nadia’s well-being was of more paramount concern to him presently.

As she sagged, Arthur continued to hold her hand rubbing the calming pattern into her skin. “What is it you’re afraid people will judge you for?” she’d mentioned it online before they’d arranged this, but Arthur wanted to try and help her work through some of her concerns regarding the things that ahd happened to her - which in his opinion were far beyond her own control. But admitting that was hard and scary in itself. In the kitchen his phone buzzed, but he ignored it. He’d call whoever was phoning back later. He didn’t prompt her to look up from where she’d rested her head, curling into herself in a protective fashion he’d seen countless times across his lifetimes. “Is that what haunts you at night?” the question was softly spoken, “or is it the fear of what this ghost would do if they did come back?” It could very well be both, despite their similarities they were distinctly separate. One concerned the past, and one the future. Her watery smile earned a sympathetic look, and he shifted to wrap his arms around her pulling her in for a tight embrace of comforting warmth that radiated from him. “I get that, but there’s no need to be ashamed of being scared… Possession is… it’s a violation of your person. Your very rights. Being scared of having your control taken away is one of the most valid fears anyone could ever experience - and I’m sure this is something you already know, but it takes time to adjust to life after experiencing something like that…” He pulled back a fraction looking at her with a steady and intense look, “but-- I want you to know if you ever need me. I’m here and I’ll always have your back, no matter the time or how bad you think things are. I’ll always be in your corner. Hm?”

“You know, I don’t know if it was a subscription, but a woman in town was getting sent mayo and bones.” Nadia shivered just thinking about sticking her hands in that fucking mayo, the demon with the goat eyes’ voice in her head. “And you probably saw that Kaden was getting sent large baguettes. That was fun.” She sighed, knowing that what Arthur said about the vibrations was true. Still, she had faith that Regan would figure it out. “I know that her denial is… concerning. But she doesn’t want to hurt people, and I think that’s almost enough to, if not stop the denial, then to at least put her in the frame of mind to accept help. I’m hoping she’ll talk to someone.” She paused, thinking it over. Hanging out with Regan was high risk, high reward. High risk because it could kill her. High reward because she was Nadia’s best friend, and she was easy to spend time with. Besides. Nadia was beginning to enjoy taking risks. “I know she could kill me, but it’s not going to happen. One because that would be such a shitty thing to do to her. Two because I’m going to be careful, I promise. I don’t have a death wish. I’ve got six years to make up for.”

Six years-- almost seven, really-- that she’d never get back. Her relationship with her parents was gone. Even if she could somehow get all the charges against her dropped, it didn’t matter. There was a stain on her now, one that would never go away. She felt it like a ghost, saw it in the mirror every time she passed by. What was she afraid people would judge her for? She was scared they’d see her the way she did late at night when she could do nothing but think. “I’m afraid they won’t-- I’m afraid they’ll just see a criminal or worse. They’ll just see someone to be pitied.” One day, someone was going to look too close and see that something was missing. Maybe the only reason she saw it was because she knew who she was supposed to be before all of this. “I dream about what I did while-- or what I might’ve done. What I could've done.” Everyone died, usually, in her dreams, and she’s left alone all over again. Arthur’s arms around her was the last strike against her resolve. She gripped him tightly, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know who I am, these days,” she said roughly. “But thank you for trusting me and being in my corner.”

“Bones in mayo? Or both separately?” Arthur questioned in mild concern, “see the bones I wouldn’t mind so much… The mayo, eugh” he contorted his face and stuck his tongue out. Definitely not a fan of condiments. The mention of the baguettes made him laugh, “I saw that… Didn’t realise it was Regan’s doing - that’s even better,” he couldn’t help the laugh it was unfortunate but it was kind of funny as a bystander to watch the torment. Even he wasn’t above a good laugh occasionally especially considering the baguettes really didn’t seem like that bad of a thing to receive.

His mood grew a tad more serious “doesn’t want to, doesn't equate to won’t Nadia.” Ultimately, it wasn’t his job nor his position to lecture her or anyone else, but he would advise caution where he felt it was needed. Not that this wasn’t something she had no doubt considered, but he had to at least give himself the peace of mind of saying it out loud. Making sure she heard him and understood his concern for her well-being. “Fine… But it doesn’t mean I don’t think that this isn’t something she needs to come to terms with. Is there no one that can help her with it?”

“Which is understandable,” he said softly, “but sometimes pity, sympathy, compassion - whatever you want to call it from other people isn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it does us a world of good to let someone else feel sorry, step in and help take care of you…” That wasn’t to say it was easy, “taking down those walls that you’ve built if only for a little while will probably help you find some peace and time to recharge.” He squeezed her hands affectionately, “being vulnerable takes a great deal of strength and mental fortitude… To be open to letting other people listen and help and the fact you’re here, that you’re talking about it is a step in the right direction.”

Arthur kept Nadia hugged tight for a long while, pressing her face to his shoulder as he rubbed his other hand over the curve of her spine. “You will. With time, I’m sure you will,” he assured her quietly holding on for a little while longer before he eventually pulled back his hands resting on her shoulders. “I’m proud of you Nadia.”

“Separately,” Nadia said. She pause. “I think? The bones and the mayo were equally bad because they were apparently human bones and had to be examined.” Honestly, after putting her hands in the shit, she planned to never even look at mayo ever again. Laughing along with him, she said, “It’s funny now, and I know she was just being nice, but damn. It was the fucking worse.”

She sighed. “I know. I know. But I trust her not to hurt me. Not intentionally, and I’d never blame her for an accident.” Nadia pinched the bridge between her nose. She didn’t want to keep talking about this. She appreciated Arthur’s words and the fact that he obviously cared for her. It was touching. Still, she was a big girl, even if she didn’t remember six years’ worth of life experiences. She knew how to be cautious, and she could make her own decisions, even if they were fucking stupid sometimes. “It is, and she will, eventually. She’ll get help. It’ll be alright. I believe that.”

Taking in his words was hard, even if Nadia knew they were true. Because she felt all of it—pity, sympathy, compassion— so vividly from other people, and she knew when they were sincere about it, but that didn’t change the way she was. Part of it was the way she was raised: distant parents that wanted to help her but didn’t know how when time after time nothing they did seemed to help. Part of it was also experience: everyone she’d let into her life before left, sometimes cruelly. Countless arguments and phone calls and conversations that led to heartbreak and disappointment weren’t worth it, in the end. She didn’t see her walls as walls; it was more like a suit of armor, and once someone found the flaws and worked their way in, rust was more likely to set in. At that point, armor’s less of a protection and more of a hindrance. She laughed a bit, even though she was crying. She hated the weakness, though she wouldn’t say so. “Being vulnerable sucks major ass, bird boss, but if this is a step in the right direction, then I’m willing to work on it.” Even if it led to more hurt in the end.

They stayed there for a bit, and Nadia allowed the rust to set in. One day, maybe she’d lay her armor down, wouldn’t need it. Maybe in White Crest was different than Phoenix in that way. She was finding comfort and warmth here that she’d never felt before, and that meant something, despite the shit show the place seemed to be. As Arthur leaned back, she wiped her eyes a bit. “Thank you, Arthur.”

As Nadia chose to insist again Arthur fought against the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine,” but it didn’t mean the worry didn’t linger after the fact. But he didn’t want to push too far into that conversation tonight. It wasn’t worth delving into.

Arthur knew his words probably weren’t new. But the lesson of building walls or plating armour plate on top of plate could keep the world and new experiences from ever coming into your life. They could keep you safe and warm but when you waded into waters too deep armour would only weigh you down until you ended up being swept away by the currents. Not to mention their capacity for keeping people at a distance and protecting yourself from hurt was perhaps one of the oldest things he’d seen people do but in the end they had always been left wanting and lonely. That wasn’t something he wanted to see happen to Nadia and if it meant working to keep her safe, to see her through to those better times then he’d happily put the graft in to help where he could. “I know and it might mean down the line you’re opening yourself up to hurt… But you’re opening yourself up to love as well and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s that love is always worth the pain.”

“Ah, least I could do…” he smiled at her fondly, before moving to take his near empty wine-glass. “I think we’re in need for a refill.” With that he got up and headed back to the kitchen but not before ruffling her hair affectionately.

It was mid-pour in the kitchen that it happened. A heat throbbing from the scar on his left palm, the searing pressure as if some invisible force had taken him by the throat as though intent on collapsing it in on itself. He gagged, choking as he felt his air supply cut off, as if it had suddenly been sucked out of the room. The glass and bottle fell, seemingly in slow-motion but in reality it was mere seconds, the crimson swirl glistening preceding the ringing crash of his glass smashing into hundreds of shards on the stone floor. His hands grasp his throat as he staggered, falling as black spots swam across his vision. There was a brief moment of respite, before the pain caused his body to lurch and the cry of pain was stifled into a weak gurgle.

Arthur could never claim to know what it felt like to drown, he’d never been in water for as long as he’d existed. But the shock of icy brackish liquid was instantly debilitating. Strangely, he supposed it was the nearest thing he could imagine to being set on fire, though this was not the familiar warmth but a blistering heat that felt like every one of his cells was being set alight. He gasped for air, but seemingly swallowed only water. Over and over he gasped and gulped greedily, for any hint of oxygen yet the act only served to allow more and more deadly water to be inhaled and swallowed. Hold your breath! He tried fighting for as long as he could until every cell screamed let me breath; his mouth was forced ajar once more gasping again as the phantom water forced its way into his mouth, up his nose and into his bursting lungs.

Tears burned like vinegar as they ran down his cheeks. It hurts. He thought. Why does it hurt so much? Please, please make it stop. Please, I beg of you.

In his last conscious moments, he tried to open his eyes, to see something familiar, but all he saw was the inky darkness of eternal night and a name upon his lips. “Freyja.”

As Nadia sat waiting for Arthur to come back with their wine, she thought about the night’s events, how they went better than she could have expected. Maybe she needed to stop expecting people to hate her for all of this. No one, not a single person she’d talked about this with, blamed her for what happened. She knew, deep down, that she was the victim in the scenario, as much as she hated it. She’d been the one to be possessed, she’d had her life taken from her. She didn’t remember any of the things she’d done, didn’t know how truly awful they were. Still, there was a part of her that expected to be stronger. She had always thought that she could fight off whatever problems came her way. Metaphorically, of course. She wasn’t a big fighter, otherwise. Obviously, the fight had been taken out of her for six years.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the sounds of glass shattering. Nadia jumped up from the couch and rushed into the kitchen, not sure what to expect. Certainly not Arthur, on the ground, water gurgling from his mouth, the corners of them burning from it. “No no no nonono,” she cried out as she ran to him, sliding on her knees a bit as she got close. She wiped away the water from his mouth, the tears from his cheeks. His pain, his fear and confusion, all of it was loud and awful in her head. She couldn’t imagine how bad it must be for him since she knew she didn’t feel everything. As he called out for Freyja, for Mercy, she pulled him into her lap, trying to make him comfortable. “It’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”

Closing her eyes, she begged for it to be okay. Because, truthfully, she didn’t know. For several minutes, she did her best to calm him and herself down. Before he passed out, he was acting like he was drowning, but he didn’t keep showing the symptoms once he was asleep. All she could do was offer him comfort, trying to assure him that he was alright. She moved them away from the spilled wine and waited for him to wake up. “Please, please be okay.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how long he was out for, seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time seemed to crawl to a stop as the darkness clouded his vision and a fatal liquid spilled from his mouth; corrosive like acid turning his mouth into a frothing grey mess and cracked his lips until they blistered and bled. His body contorted before it grew still, eyes unseeing and for a moment there was nothing.

He returned to consciousness with a rasping gurgled gasp, flopping over onto his side as he hacked up inky brackish water streaked with blood and spittal. His mouth burned and blearily he could make out someone else in the room with him. But only one thought was on his mind. “Mo-” he tried to say, but the word was cut off by another hacking cough that splattered beads of blood over the floor leaning over on his hands that crunched into the shards of glass on the floor.

“I-- mobile now” he felt faint, as if the world were about to spin away from him again if he moved too fast. But the world hardly mattered if the hollow ache that radiated from the palm of his hand was anything to go by. The lack of familiar warmth and connection from the person invisibly tethered on the other end. He slipped, tripping and catching himself as he blindly searched on the counter for his phone with a trembling hand.

When his fingers latched on, the device was wrenched off the counter and Arthur sank once more to the ground his back pressed into the cabinets. Hands shaking as he saw the missed calls and set about playing the voicemail she’d left. Fresh tears tracked down his face, stabbing the redial button and holding the phone to his ear. “Pickup pickup pickup. Pleasepleaseplease,” there was a strange desperation in the words.

It went to voicemail.

“Fuck!” he spat, jabbing the button again and waiting. Again, and again, and again.

Eventually, on the seventh try Arthur let the dial go through lines of healed skin contrasting to the gruesome maw of his mouth from the connection to Mercy’s death. “Frey? Frey! FUCK Please pick up, pleasepleaseplease. I need you to pick up right now and tell me you’re okay. I felt– it can’t– You didn’t–” he thumped his hand on the ground, blind to the glinting shards that pricked his skin and bled fresh trails of crimson through his fingers. “PICK UP. DON’T YOU DARE! PICK UP RIGHT NOW!” Did it matter he was screaming into the receiver curling over it to make his voice heard wherever she’d gone? Would she hear him then? He pressed the phone harder to his ear, a sob that shook the very foundations of his person working its way up his throat, voice breaking when he spoke after the extended silence. “Please… We only just found each other. I can’t– I can’t lose you now. Please come back, come home. Just one more time… One more time. For me. We’ll make it work. It’ll be different. I promise this time it’ll be different. I’ll be different.” He exhaled, blinking past the tears “I never got to tell you I lo- No. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you when you come back. Please come back…”

By the end of the call he was left staring in anguish at the photo ID on the call his breath short and sharp, shaking as he ended the call. Too fast. Too much. It was all too much. A trembling hand pressed to his mouth, trying to stifle the pain that settled in his chest as he shook his head against the overwhelming realisation of what had happened.

Yelping as Arthur started coughing and leaned over, Nadia sat back to give the man some space. The blood was concerning, and she didn’t have any time at all to process what was happening as he scrambled for his phone. Mercy, something was wrong with Mercy. She could tell before he made the call, before he started screaming into his phone. When he leaned against the cabinets, she moved closer to him, hoping to comfort him with her presence. She didn’t know what else to do. She really didn’t. So Nadia did what she could. She sat with him. His pain was like nothing she’d ever really felt before, but so was the love that was causing it. God, it was miserable. It felt so miserable, and she could barely process it.

When Arthur started breathing too fast, his words tapering out, she grabbed his hands. “Hey, no, hey!” She made him look away from his phone and towards her. “Hey. I don’t-- I don’t know what’s happening, okay? But it’s-- Mercy can’t die, right? Not easily. Right? So it’s--” Fuck, she didn’t know how to do this. “It’ll be-- She’s gotta be okay. She’s going to be okay.” Nadia really, really hoped so. Mercy, in the short time that she’d known the woman, was probably one of the toughest people out there, and the only thing that could kill her was having her head cut off. There was a brief moment of fear, the thought of Arthur choking because of some weird connection with Mercy that made it to where he couldn’t breathe, but he had seemed like he was drowning, not just suffering from no air.

The tables had turned, and Nadia found herself wrapping Arthur in a hug instead of the other way around. She couldn’t affect other people’s emotions; only feel them. But she tried to put as much comfort out as she could, hoping that somehow it would help. Hoping that, somehow, Mercy was okay. “It’ll be alright, Arthur. It will. I promise.”

[onthesandsofdreams]

The Story of Us

Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Diana x Steve Rating: T Words: 4363 (!) Summary: Diana and Steve are soulmates who met during WWI. Unfortunately, they didn't get a happy ending. Present day Diana is a writer, who using the memories of her past life, put their story into a novel. Her memories are all she has of Steve, until... Notes: For the @wondertrevnet‘s Valentine Event. Warnings: Character(s) Death & Reincarnation. Angst with a happy ending.

Read @ AO3

“Diana… whatever happens, just remember that I love you.” Steve said as he held onto Diana’s face in his hands. 

“Steve…” Diana’s own voice was barely a whisper.

*****

And Diana wakes, she opens her eyes to find them blurry with tears, so she closes them again and takes a deep breath, centering herself in the here and in the now. What haunts her is her past, a past that was quite literally a lifetime ago. But the pain that came with the memories was as raw as a recent and the most profound love lost.

Diana knows that she is only remembering. But the memory of Steve is hard and raw, they were soulmates. A thing so incredibly rare and precious that, their love had been a shiny beacon of light amongst the darkness of the war. What worries her is the fact that she can remember. By all means, she shouldn’t and that makes it all the more painful, for their love was so very short lived before both of them lost their lives.

Diana has made her diligence, she has spent hours upon hours on the internet, trying to find other people that, like her, remember their past lives and past loves. The small pool of people she has found has been a source of comfort. But she has not found Steve yet.

Diana opens her eyes, turns her head to the light coming from the small crack of the curtains, the sun’s already up and she needs to get up soon. She has a meeting with her editor at eleven thirty and it’s already nine. She chose to have a writing career, even when her mother frowned and disapproved, as a compromise, Diana took an extra degree in history and now, she was working full time at the Louvre, which allowed her to have time to write the books she wanted to write. Thankfully, she was also given the opportunity to do book tours and signings as necessary.

Diana tossed the covers of her body and sat up, stretching her body and willing herself to leave the comfortable nest her bed was, she tossed her legs off the side of the bed and put her feet on her slippers. She stood and made her way to the bathroom to relieve herself, once she’d done so, and after washing her hands, she splashed cold water on her face to clear away any sleep. After drying her face, she went back into her room and began to change into jeans and a comfortable sweater. 

Diana kept the slippers on and made her way into the kitchen, she made herself a coffee and some eggs. She ate slowly, savoring her food. She made herself a second cup of coffee and then she went back to her room, only then did she brush her hair, she kept it loose and simply wore a headband on it. 

Diana made her way to the small balcony of her apartment. She could clearly see parts of Paris and while she did so, her mind turned to her newest book. 

Diana’s first book had been an overnight hit. ‘The Story of Us’, had been hers and Steve’s love story, she had written it as it had happened, even with the unhappy ending that marked their separation and eventual deaths. Many had rained praise upon her work, calling it moving and heart wrenching.

Diana simply had taken it in stride, she had been grateful for the amount of goodwill her book had given her. And now, as she prepared herself to edit her second book, she often wondered if Steve was somewhere out there, if he had read her book and realized what she had done. That she had - with all the love she had in her heart - sang their love song to the world.

And now, Diana had a second book out and - so far - had been getting good reviews. But it’s nothing compared to her first, she finds that she doesn’t mind. If the story of the love she shared with Steve was the greatest thing she wrote, she would be content with it.

Diana closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun hit her face and her mind began to wander.

*****

“Miss Prince,” General Jones had spoken. “Please meet General Steven Trevor, he’s one of our best agents, recently returned from a mission.”

Diana looked at the man whom General Jones had identified as Steven Trevor, tall and blond with slight tan to his skin that brought out his beautiful blue eyes, his smile was friendly and while he carried himself with pride, there was no arrogance to his stance. She extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, General Trevor. I am Diana Prince.” She gave him a smile and his extended.

But something happened when Steven took her hand in his. Diana felt her body do a full body shiver, and she knew that Steve had felt it too by the way his eyes widened. Steve recovered quickly. “It’s lovely to meet you Miss Prince. Thank you for helping with the war effort. And please, call me Steve.”

Steve’s voice had a pleasant tone and Diana, who had read so much about soulmates, knew what had happened. She had just met hers. They were soulmates. But Diana knew that not all soulmates were romantic. Whatever happened between them, it would either grow into an unforgettable romance or, the deepest and most profound friendships.  “No need to thank me, I should thank you. You’re the one who is risking his life out in the battlefield, I’m simply translating documents.”

Steve had not let go of her hand, and Diana found herself reluctant to let go of his. Only doing so in order to avoid any awkwardness around them. Steve’s smile grew. “And those documents are important! They don’t trust just anybody with them, I should know. So don’t sell yourself short Miss Prince, any little counts.”

*****

Diana opened her eyes again, only to blink as the sun shone in her eyes. She looked at the mug on her hand, half of it was still full, but had gone cold as she had been lost in the memories of her past life.

Diana went back inside and looked at the clock, it read ten-thirty. She still had an hour before she met with Etta. Diana smiled at the thought of Etta Candy. She and Etta had met during the war too, but Etta didn’t remember her past life and Diana didn’t begrudge her that. But it struck her as funny that in her past life, Etta had been Steve’s secretary and now, she was her editor.

Diana put the mug down on her bedside table and sat on her bed, it was Saturday and she was in no rush yet, she had half an hour before she had to leave to meet Etta. So she took the book she had and read a little.

**

“I’m telling you Diana,” Etta said as she went over some changes she wanted to make. “It will be a good book, honestly, I don’t know how you do it. You have one that’s a complete success and the second one is not doing badly at all. And now you have another finished? I wish all my clients were like you.”

Diana smiled at Etta. “I simply write daily, it’s a good way to wind down from work. And I’m glad to hear that you like this book too.”

“It’s fantastic dear. And I’m very happy with you. Very much indeed. Oh and don’t forget, you have a book signing in a week. So brace yourself, because you’ll probably get plenty of questions from ‘The Story of Us’.”

“I know,” Diana sighed and nodded. “That’s fine, people are curious, I’m expecting all sorts of questions and I’m ready to answer.”

“Good, good. Then, read the edits I want you to make on this one and then we’ll talk about it, yes?”

“Of course.”

*****

“I can’t believe they’re sending you to Germany!” Steve’s indignation was slightly annoying. “You’re not a spy or an actress, you’d be in deep enemy territory and that’s not right.”

“Steve,” Diana had been calling him that due to his insistence. “I can manage. I am not afraid, when I signed up to help with the war effort, I knew this was a possibility, you don’t need to worry.”

Steve ran his hands through his hair. “Well, I do. And I won’t apologize, it’s a high risk and I’m not happy. At least they’re putting you with my team, that way you’ll be as safe as you can be with us around.”

“Excuse me?” Diana didn’t like his tone, so she stood tall and squared her shoulders. “I’ll have you know General, that I am quite capable.”

Steve raised his hands in a placating manner. “I know Diana, but this active combat and you’d be in the thick of enemy territory. You have never gone undercover, and while I have no doubt that you’re quick on your feet and a fast thinker, I still feel uneasy. You’re heading for dark waters, more correctly, waters that you have not swam in before.”

Diana relaxed a bit. “I understand and I thank you for your worry; but I am sure I will be able to handle whatever comes my way.”

“If all goes wrong, I’ll always be near. Just in case. We’re partners now, and I’ll always have your back.”

Diana smiled. “Thank you Steve.”

*****

Diana sat on her desk, typing away her new would-be novel, but her mind kept getting distracted. Next Saturday she had the book signing event, and that usually came with plenty of questions of both her first book and the new one.

Diana didn’t mind the questions, she enjoyed talking to people about her book. But there was one question that kept popping up: ‘Why the tragic ending?’. No matter where she went, the question was always asked without fail. She had perfected her answer by now, but she could still see the disappointment of whomever asked the question when she would reply: ‘Because it was an unfortunate event, Arthur had no way to survive the explosion. And Amelia was too sick to make it.’

Because Diana could hardly say: Because that is what happened, and this is my previous life. Because Steve and I didn’t have a happy ending, only a brief and intense love. One that still survives.

*****

Diana and Steve had been working together for nearly six months. And during that time, they fell in love. Being soulmates had turned out to be a blessing. The love that bloomed was one many would envy, she felt complete whenever she was with Steve. It also came in handy, for they would use their relationship as a cover, a way to meet and exchange secrets away from prying eyes. It was easy to blush, look down, smile and say that it was a lover’s meeting. Not a lie, but not the complete truth.

Their love had grown deep roots in their hearts. Diana could hardly wait to see Steve, and Steve would always find something to give her; little trinkets that she could keep with her.

One of their missions was attending a ball. Steve had all but devoured her with his eyes when Diana met him, her blue dress almost a perfect match to his eyes. They had danced and mingled, doing their best to remember every single detail of any conversation they took part.

It had been the only time they had shared a bed. Their passion unleashed, breaking like a dam and overflowing their senses. Both overcome with both love and a deep desire for one another, to the point where Diana  felt like she was drowning. But it had been such a sweet feeling, that she couldn’t and wouldn’t object to it. Diana hated parting from Steve the following morning.

*****

Diana clearly remembered the first time she had dreamt of Steve. She had been fifteen, tired from school and feeling a bit lonely. She had always felt so, like something was missing and she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Diana had gone to bed early, and her dreams had been filled with a deep fog. She had felt lost and alone, yelling for someone, for any help. Then, she remembered how the fog parted and the sunlight had filled a palace ballroom and there stood a man, one that she had never met. But who, upon seeing her, smiled bright and wide and offered his hand, calling for her.

Diana had caught her reflection on a mirror, she was older and wore a blue gown. She went instinctively to the man, then, she heard herself say: Steve. They danced all night long. And Diana had woken in tears.

And then the dreams and memories began to come. One by one, they made themselves known, and like a puzzle, everything began to make sense, with all the pieces finally in place, Diana understood and she grieved. She had had a soulmate and she had lost him before they could have had a life together. 

**

“You seem upset.” Mera’s voice broke the silence of her office. “Is everything alright?”

Diana looked at where Mera stood, standing on her open door, Mera cut an impressive figure. Tall and pale and redhead with kind blue-green eyes, Mera could pass for a supermodel, instead, she was an archaeologist and as of late, a good friend of hers. She tried to smile. “Yes. Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Mmh,” Mera frowned and her lips thinned. “Nightmares?”

“No. Simply restless.”

“Ah,” Mera nodded. “I understand that, it happens. Drink some chamomile before bed, it should help.”

This time, Diana did smile. “I will thank you.”

“Excited for the book signing?”

“Yes. I can’t wait to see what they ask. It’s always exciting, and it’s also very lovely, you know? All these people come because they like my book and now, they want to read the new one. Or they have read it already and they have questions. It’s always fun.”

Mera gave Diana an apologetic smile. “Sorry I can’t come. But you know I’m meeting Arthur’s parents, they’re visiting and I’m taking them for brunch.”

“It’s fine Mera,” Diana’s smile softens. “I understand, you enjoy your time with Arthur and his parents.”

“Thanks, see you on Monday then.” With that, Mera left to continue whatever it was that she was doing.

Diana stared at Mera’s retreating figure until she was no longer in sight. Then with a sigh, she opened her emails and went through her work, but her mind wasn’t really into it. So she paused for a moment, closed her eyes and did some breathing exercises, once she felt centered, she opened her eyes and continued to work. But she could tell it was going to be a long day.

*****

Diana’s mission ends sooner than Steve’s. It’s almost immediately after the discovery of a new gas made to kill. Diana’s hands shake as she translates the effect on the gas, has to remind herself to breath in through her nose and exhale through her mouth. Everything’s horrible and she is terrified of what’s to come.

Steve has another mission, but he makes sure to escort her back to France, from where she’s meant to take a ship back to London. Diana doesn’t want to leave him behind, the feeling of dread setting into her stomach.

“Don’t make me go,” Diana whispers, looking deep into Steve’s eyes. “I can’t bear to leave you behind.”

Steve to his credit, takes it well. He simply smiles and takes her face between his hands. “Diana, you knew this could happen, the war isn’t over and my job is not done. What you did has given us an advantage, but I must continue to fight. I promise you, that after the war is over, I will come and find you. We’ll be together forever then. Until death do we part.”

Diana’s eyes glaze over with unshed tears. “Steve,” her voice is barely above a whisper. But she knows that he is right. She must leave for the safety of England, else she would be a target with a price on her head. After all, she was the one who was in charge of paperwork, any leads would come back to her. “Promise me. Swear it even, come back to me. Come and find me.”

“I will, Diana. I will come and find you.” Steve looks at Diana in her eyes. His own are serious and solemn, his face still and then he leans forward and he kisses her with all the love and passion he has in him. 

Diana kisses him back, holds onto him until she must leave and board the ship. She stands in the deck, watching as Steve grows smaller by the second, until he is no longer visible. “I’ll be waiting, Steve.” She says to the wind, in hopes that her voice will carry over.

**

Etta Candy is the one who welcomes her back to London. She receives praise for her work, accolades come easy, but she is quiet and subdued. Leaving Steve behind, in enemy territory is not something she wanted to do. It was something she had to, and now, she has no way to know if he’s safe. Now, she can only wait for war to be over.

Then it happens. One night she is asleep and there is a sudden pain in her breast, Diana wakes screaming for Steve, agitated and her heart is racing. She doesn’t know what to do, there is no book or person to consult. Soulmates are strange and rare, there is nothing in print that can make sense of her pain. She spends the night awake, a feeling of loss setting into her bones, chilling her to the marrow. The following nights, her sleep is restless and she wakes crying. Nothing makes sense.

Then war ends. Diana rejoices at the thought of reuniting with Steve. But her joy turns into sorrow a few months later, when Charlie, Sameer and Napi return, bearing the news of Steve’s passing. 

‘A hero’s death’, Charlie calls it. Steve sacrificed himself destroying the gas, giving them the chance to live and achieve victory.

Diana is left cold. Her sudden pain makes sense now, she felt him go. She felt whatever it was that bound them together rip apart. Steve’s not coming back, he’s not coming home. There’s no lifetime of love and joy to be had, only pain and grief. Steve is gone and so are all her dreams, her life is suddenly bereft of any joy, all is a blur and grey. A hero’s death is nothing more than death. It feels like the color has gone out of her vision. She walks like a wraith, amidst the joy and laughter, all seems wrong. She wants to scream, to rage and burn. But she doesn’t. She dutifully continues her work until one morning she wakes feeling ill.

Diana ignores it, assumes that is simply her grief. It’s not. In the end, the doctors call it ‘The Spanish Flu’ and she is confined to a bed. She gets worse and worse, death comes slowly and the last thing she remembers, is calling out for Steve. Then it all goes black.

*****

It’s the Saturday of her book signing and Diana leaps out of bed. She’s never been one for lateness, she takes a shower - something she rarely does in the morning -, letting the hot water clear any residue of sleep of her. She doesn’t have to worry about clothes, for she laid them out the previous night.

Diana comes out feeling lighter than what she has felt in years. Slathers herself in body lotion and slips into her clothes and shoes. Dries her hair as much as she can with the towel, then brushes it and lets it loose. Does her make-up with calm, settles for a casual look of eyeliner and soft lips, giving herself a once-over, she smiles. She leaves her room and makes herself a good breakfast and a cup of coffee, eats with leisure.

Only when she sees that her hair is not dried enough, Diana returns to her bathroom and blow dries it, but still lets it loose. It’s a casual event, she can allow herself to let it be. She gives herself a once over in her mirror, the red blouse with black jeans and boots suited her well, on impulse, she went to her closet and grabbed a leather jacket. She was ready, time to face the music.

Diana arrives at the bookstore early. The people inside let her in, and guide her towards a small spot where she can wait. Etta arrives not long after, usually, it would be her assistant, but Etta wanted to see the reception of the book herself and thus, she came instead. Diana doesn’t mind, Etta is lovely and won’t be in the way; Etta is only stern in moments when it’s needed, and those are rare with the two of them.

Diana watches as people begin to arrive and seat themselves, then it’s time. Diana stands in front of her small crowd and reads an excerpt of her book, she notices a man with dark shades, but pays him no mind. She reads and relaxes, then opens the floor for questions. And time passes her by quickly. Once the questions are done, she sits on the table and begins signing books.

Diana’s only sin (according to Etta), is that she doesn’t look up when she’s receiving the book or writing, only does so to give the book back. One by one, people get their books signed until…

Until Diana greets the next person in line and opens her first book and there is a message in it: ‘I swore to come and find you Diana.’ Diana freezes upon reading the message and startled, she looks up. And she finds herself face to face with Steven Trevor. 

A myriad of emotions pass through Diana, she wants to speak, but she’s unable. Steve simply smiles at her and says. ‘It’s lovely to meet you miss Prince’. His voice is the exact same tone as it was before. Nothing has changed in his physical appearance.

Diana nods, swallowing the knot that seems to have lodged itself on her throat. ‘Thank you…”

“Steve. Name’s Steve Trevor.”

“Of course it is,” she says and does her best to blink back tears. Then, with a shaky hand she signs both books and gives them back to Steve, who immediately moves out of the way, but doesn’t leave the bookstore.

Diana finishes her work on autopilot. Only after Etta and the people are gone, that she goes towards Steve, who has used this time to browse the store and has a bag with other books in his arms. She stops when she’s close to him. ‘Steve,” she says softly.

Steve turns and gives Diana such a dazzling smile, that she feels like she’s staring at the sun. “Hey Diana,” his eyes twinkle with mirth and happiness. “I finally found you. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Diana loses it at that moment, without any care, she throws herself at his arms. Steve drops his bag books, but embraces her. And to her, his arms and embrace feel the same way they did a lifetime ago: like home. “You found me,” she says through her tears.

“I did,” Steve’s voice chokes. “Sorry for dying on you. I’m sorry you died too. But thank you, thank you for telling the world our story, that’s how I found you.”

Diana buries her face on Steve’s neck and inhales his cologne, “You’re here now,” her own voice sounds raspy to her own ears. “That’s what matters. I love you. I always did and I always will.”

“I love you too,” Steve says and kisses her head. “We’re together now. We can live our life, enjoy our love Diana, we’re finally together.”

“We are. You’re not leaving me anymore.”

“Never. Well, maybe the time it takes to apply for a visa and permanent residency, or whatever policy France requires of Americans moving in,” Steve jokes. “But other than that? Not happening.”

Diana laughs, grateful that his sense of humor is still intact. She’s reluctant to let go, but she knows that they must leave, they have much to talk about and they can hardly do it in a public bookstore. “Come home with me,” she says.

Steve backs a little, and Diana can see him smiling. “Of course. Let’s go home.” He says and lifts his bag of books from the floor and puts them on his left hand, offering Diana his right.

Diana doesn’t hesitate to take it. “Let’s go.”

They leave the bookstore, and Diana knows that all will be well. Life has given them a gift, a gift worth all the painful memories and the deep sense of loss when Steve first died, and the grief that followed her short life afterwards.

Diana turned and looked at Steve, who smiled at her. Yes, they were finally home. She and her soulmate have a lifetime now, and that lifetime begins right this moment. Paris had never seemed to be brighter as this moment, as she walked hand in hand with Steve. Diana’s smile was wide and a profound sense of peace finally settled into her soul. 

Then Diana stops and Steve follows her lead. Steve turns and looks at her, “Diana?” He asks.

Diana simply smiles, releases his hand and takes his face in her hands. Softly, she caresses his cheeks and quickly, gives him a peck on his lips. He returns it. And Diana can feel her heart beating faster, “All is well now,” she whispers against his lips.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. “We’re together now.”

“Forever.”

This time, it’s Steve who presses forward and devours her in a kiss. Diana returns it with all the love she has for him, all the love that has waited a lifetime to finally be allowed to be. Their forever starts now.