#because they weren’t last time Arthur was stuck in the woods

[yepmadness]

I wonder if. Maybe. Since we are back in an unfamiliar forest setting… this all might be a sort of mirror to s3? Or at least we are getting to one.

Back in the woods fresh off the cusp of death, though he did actually die this time to be fair, still injured but there is help this time. Arthur is still, despite it all, tentatively happy. Not like he was back in Addison.

The blood covered snow in the dark versus the green of a bright afternoon.

Last time Arthur was the most alone he has ever been, at least that we have directly been around for, with Yellow. A bitter partnership formed on lies and threats. Versus now, filled with a sort of hope for the future, not alone.

I just don’t think the parallel is unintentional. I just think it’s nice. Because there was so much hopelessness in that time—but he isn’t stuck in that anymore. At least not right now.

The forest is still isolating, yes, it still pushes off the path and leads deeper into a sense of uncertainty. But we don’t seem heading into the forest? We are coasting it, beside the path, but not on it. Still grounded to reality, not wandering aimless with no direction. Not falling deeper into it, heading for a point, not to be stolen away and tucked deeper.

Is that, perhaps, part of the theme of rebirth we have been leaning heavily on? Forced back into the unknown but it is better, and safer than it was before.

This forest is a place of security in contrast to the all the threats it previously provided because the situation has changed, the company has changed, their mentalities have changed.

They more or less know what they need, where to go, having a sense of direction and purpose. And I just think that’s a notably nice change.

[exmcrtis]

(michael vlamis) [THE RUNAWAY]. Please welcome [WOLF LYKAIOS (HE/THEY)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [THIRTY TWO]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [THE COMMUNE]. You may see them around working as a [GROOMER AT HUNTSVILLE VETERINARY & GROOMING]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

TW: abuse, abandonment, homophobia, homelessness

full name: wolf odysseus lykaios

birthdate: march 27th, 1990

age: 33

height: 5’11”

sexuality: grumpy bisexual

bio:

life for wolf lykaios has never been particularly easy or good

born and raised in chicago, illinois, wolf’s parents weren’t compatible from the start

his mother was sweet and soft spoken, always wanting the best for her only child and working hard to provide for him the best she could

his father was lazy and a drunk, ruling the house with an iron fist so he wouldn’t have to do anything himself

wolf’s mother stuck around for as long as she could, wanting to protect her child but growing tired of how she was being treated

wolf was around five years old when she finally had enough and packed her things, leaving her husband and child behind to start a better life elsewhere

as much as she wanted to take wolf with her, she just couldn’t swing it, hoping to come back for him sooner rather than later

his father’s rage only grew from there, and while he never physically hit his son until he got a little older, the emotional abuse took a toll on wolf

he became a very quiet kid, keeping to himself more often than not so he couldn’t get close to anyone

he dressed to cover bruises and scratches, a defense mechanism to avoid too many questions

as much as he hated his father, the last thing wolf wanted was to be stuck in the foster care system and become another number

and so he dealt with the situation at home the best that he could, counting the days until his mother came home

the years kept passing him by without her return, and by the time wolf reached his teens, he’d given up on seeing her again all together

and then he met arthur drake, and suddenly things didn’t seem so bad

arty gave wolf an excuse to get out of the house, and for once he felt like he was loved genuinely

naturally wolf’s father didn’t approve of his relationship, but it didn’t bother wolf any because arty was worth putting up with any barricade that came their way

but things with arty were already a little complicated’ neither of them felt comfortable making their relationship public, and so they kept hiding

wolf knew that he loved arty more than anyone else, and while he wanted to be out and open with him, he just couldn’t, and so he bottled his own feelings up

life didn’t seem so bad until arty told wolf that he was leaving, and then suddenly it felt like wolf’s whole world came crashing down

arty was the only one they had left, and after his departure, wolf decided that being in chicago was no longer an option

and so they packed all of their belongings into one bag and left in the middle of the night, not bothering to leave their dad a note

wolf had no idea where they were going, failing to craft a plan before their departure, but they didn’t care much as long as they were no longer under their dad’s roof

for a few years they made do with couch surfing and setting up a tent in the woods, never thinking too hard about finding a more permanent place

their hardened attitude made it difficult for wolf to connect with other people, but they were capable of connecting with animals

after wandering into the animal shelter on a whim and bonding with the animals there a bit too easily, wolf felt like they’d finally found their purpose

wiggling his way into an employment opportunity, wolf found it as means to get back up on their feet

they saved for months, their attitude shifting into something a bit kinder and more compassionate, though they reserved it for the animals

but after a year, wolf decided it was time to pack up and move on again, not wanting to put down roots just yet

he felt the need to keep running, feeling as if something else was out there for him

without any sort of warning or memory how it happened, wolf ended up in huntsville shortly after the paradox hit

but the thing was, they didn’t mind that they got stuck the moment they came to town, and despite hearing stories from the townspeople, they chose to form their own opinions

being in huntsville made wolf feel safe, like if his dad ever came looking for him, he couldn’t be found

he was quick to settle into the commune and get a job as a groomer

however, his grumpy disposition remained, still unwilling when it came to letting people in

wolf has been in town for a few years now, and he’s managed to make a home for himself

most people try to steer clear for fear of facing his bad attitude, but there have been a few who have managed to befriend him, at least a little bit

truth be told, he’s soft at his core and very loyal to the people he loves, he’s just not willing to share that side of him with most people

slowly but surely, though, he’s learning how to open up, especially now that arty is back in his life

overall, wolf just has a big attitude but it’s just so he can mask his soft feelings

[supercorpkid]

Once Upon a Time in…

Camelot

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Emma Swan x Reader, Regina Mills x Reader, Snow White x Reader, Prince Charming x Reader, Merlin x Reader, Morgana Pendragon x Reader.

Word Count: 3100.

Previously on the series - Neverland

“So I guess we’re going to Camelot.”

You look at Henry, not knowing what that means. Wait, Camelot. Legend of the sword? It can’t be it. They can’t be talking about that, right? But you look around, you see Snow White’s soft smile at you, the ‘Evil Queen’ appearing and disappearing with nothing but a purple fog around her. They are definitely talking about king Arthur, and Lancelot and the sword buried on the ground that no one could lift it.

“I need my bow and arrow.”

“And my sword!”

“We should take more than one magic bean.” How is it possible that you’re not even surprised about magic beans anymore?

It takes around fifteen minutes for everyone to be standing in the same place close to you, ready to go to Camelot. Henry nods his affirmation at you, and you almost feel bad for making all these people use a magic bean and go to a different world, just to ask a powerful wizard how to take you home. But then again, you really need to get back home. So, you’ll accept the help.

“We’re all ready?” Emma asks and you nod in agreement. “To Camelot!”

And to Camelot you go, through a magic bean, and dear Rao you can’t wait to tell Jamie this. She is never going to believe you.

When you get to Camelot, to the castle, Merlin is nowhere to be found. King Arthur -although he is not king yet, so- sends someone for him and all you can do is wait.

“Wait, wait! They’re here! My moms! They’ve come to pick me up!” You point out the window. Watching Lena, all dressed as she belongs in this story, walking by.

“No, I believe you’re incorrect, child. That’s Morgana.” Arthur says, making you even more confused. “She might look like someone you know. But there’s nothing in her heart that shall confuse you any further.”

“What happened to her?”

“What didn’t? That would be far more of an appropriate question. But this matter shall not be discussed any further, as Merlin should be returning to assist you.”

You look around. Snow, Charming, Emma and Regina are waiting on Merlin for a solution. And you want it too. You need to go back home, but-

You look out the window again. To where you saw ‘Morgana’. She looks just like your mother. You can’t help yourself from sneaking out of the room in a flash. You think you’ve left unnoticed. You’re wrong.

“Hey, where are you going?” Henry yells at you and you finally stop. You look behind and see him running towards you. “Merlin is coming. He is your chance to go home.”

“Henry, I know what I saw, ok? That woman, she-she looks just like my mom. Don’t you think that’s a crazy coincidence?”

“She could be using magic to trick you.”

“Yeah, she could.” You agree with your head, but don’t turn back. Henry stands beside you, looking like he’ll follow you if you decide to go. “I have to.”

“Wait, before you go.” He takes an enormous book out of his backpack. “Maybe you should read her story first. See what you’re dealing with.”

“Do you just carry this monstrosity everywhere?” You ask while he places the book in your hands.

“Just read it.” He flips through some pages, and you use your super speed to read faster.

“Huh.” You put the book down, furrowing your brows. Henry has the same expression. “Her story is-is like my mom’s.”

“How come?”

“She is an illegitimate daughter of someone powerful, raised as if she wasn’t family at all. She was good.” You open the book again to show it to him. “Then she was betrayed by Merlin! Her friend. He knew she had magic and thought she would become evil, so he tried to poison her. And that is what turned her evil.”

“Oh, is your mom evil? Mine was too!”

“No. That’s the thing. My mom, she had her moments, but she redeemed herself. My mom was always supposed to fall into the light. But Morgana-”

“Is supposed to be the darkness to Merlin’s light.” Henry finishes reading the sentence back to you.

“Don’t you get it? She wasn’t evil. She doesn’t have to be evil. If we can save her then-”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe deep. “I don’t know, but maybe that’s the reason why we’re here. Because heroes need to save. And Morgana needs saving.”

“Maybe we should call the rest of the family.” Henry says looking to where his mothers are.

“There’s no time. There she goes.” You watch Morgana going inside the woods. “MORGANA!”

“It’s High Priestess to you.” She turns around and you look at her. You really look at her. There’s no kindness in her face. “What do you want?”

“I wanna help you.” You give one step forwards, shielding Henry with your body.

Morgana looks at you, she really looks at you, like she can see deep inside your soul. It’s so hard seeing her, as she looks just like Lena. And you wonder if Lena could have fallen into this dark path too. Why does one have to fall into the light, and the other into the darkness? What if things weren’t as black and white?

“This isn’t you. You were good. Kind-hearted. They’ve turned you into this, but you can fight it.”

“I don’t want to fight it. I want to embrace it.” Morgana gives you an evil grin. “I want power, I want to rule Camelot. Being good will take me nowhere.”

“You will never rule Camelot being evil.” Henry chimes in. “Haven’t you heard? Good always wins, so you will never take over Camelot like this.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong, kid. What do the good guys get in the end? A happy little family? Settling for dumb hopeful kids?” She scoffs and you know she is talking about you and Henry. Dumb hopeful kids. Ouch. “That’s not in my cards. I want something far greater, but you wouldn’t understand.”

You look back to Henry, exchanging a hopeless look. “Arthur was right. There’s nothing in your heart to confuse me.”

“Arthur being right? That would be a first.” She looks at Henry behind you, gives you a mischievous smile. “You don’t have to protect your brother. He doesn’t look powerful at all. You, on the other hand…”

“He is not my brother.”

“And I guess he won’t ever be, if you make the right choice.” She quirks one eyebrow at you looking amused. Your mind screams Lena. Your heart says otherwise. “You mistake me for someone else. I do not know why the person holds your heart like that, but I assure you, if you stand with me, you won’t need anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because I can give you power. Beyond the one you have.” Morgana motions to the castle. “This entire kingdom shall be mine. Soon. It could be ours, if you wish.”

“Don’t do it.” Henry whispers behind you. You give one step forward, instead.

“I don’t want a kingdom. I want to go home.” You say, earning a smirk as a response.

“Great. I wouldn’t want to share, anyhow. Why don’t we make a deal? You help me take back what’s mine by right, and I’ll send you to wherever you want.”

“Another reality?”

“Don’t do it!” Henry speaks a little louder. Morgana’s eyes turn bright yellow, and she moves her hand, throwing Henry backwards, with nothing but that.

“Believe in me now?”

“Yes.”

“NO! DON’T DO IT!” You hear Henry’s yelps getting louder as you move closer to Morgana.

“Does he ever shut up?” She asks, eyes turning yellow again.

“Get away from her, Morgana!” You hear from your side and see a guy raising his sword at her. “She’s just a kid and has nothing to do with your desire for revenge.”

“Merlin.” She points out, nonchalantly. And you blink your eyes feeling yourself coming down from a weird dream. When you look behind yourself you see Snow with her bow and arrow ready to shoot. Charming is pointing a sword at her too. Regina’s hands are on fire. Emma also has white magic coming out of her hands. “I see you brought a cavalry. You always need it when you’re up against me.”

“Get away from the kids!” Emma yells from behind you.

“Too bad.” Morgana looks at you, ignoring everyone else. “I would’ve guessed you wanted to go home. Merlin cannot do that for you. You’ll be STUCK with them.”

Her words send shivers down your spine. And you cave, feeling like you should follow her because she is your only hope. You give one step forward again.

“Get away from her! You’re not the only evil witch in here.” Regina says, earning a sigh from Morgana.

“I see the decision was made for you.” She says while she leaves, as quickly as she appeared.

“Are you ok?” Snow runs to you, while Emma and Regina help Henry up. She touches your face looking for any bruises.

“She didn’t hurt me.” But your eyes are full of tears, and Snow can’t believe you’re not hurt.

“Come on.” She throws her arms around your shoulders and guides you back to the castle. “Merlin’s here now. He’ll help you.”

But she was wrong. Merlin can’t help you. So Morgana was right.

“Another protection spell around the city, you say?” Merlin seems to be considering the information. “I’m sorry to inform you that there are no shortcuts, and you must break this curse as you’ve broken the last one.”

“But we don’t know who started the curse this time.” Regina says.

“Then you must start there. But quickly. As long as she is in Storybrooke inside a curse, she’ll become part of the book. And then, she won’t be able to leave again.” Merlin has not even finished talking and you’re already crying. Storybrooke is nice but you can’t be stuck there. You have to go back home. “I apologize if my help wasn’t what you required.”

“It’s ok.” You sigh. Heart even heavier on your chest now. “I’m used to losing.”

“I have victories and I’ve losses-” Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder. “And I’ve learned that it’s the losses that require us to be brave.”

Sure, it makes sense. You know it’s true, you know you have to be brave. But his words don’t fix the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your stomach. You’re still a kid, stuck in a foreign city, with fairytale characters as friends. If the pain didn’t feel so real, you would’ve thought you were dreaming.

“Thanks.” You point to the door. “I’ll wait outside while you guys figure out how we’re leaving.”

You walk outside. Looking around to see if anyone is following you. It seems that this time Henry didn’t follow you, so you’re safe. You don’t want to help Morgana take over Camelot, especially not because she’s doing it for revenge. But she was right, Merlin can’t take you home. Maybe she is your only option. Maybe you have to do the dubious call so you can get back home to your moms, aunts, cousin, girlfriend-

One step forward.

Kara would never tell you to do the wrong thing, no matter how long it would take for her to see you again.

One step back.

But would she be right? Would it be fair for you to wait to get home and maybe never get back, because you couldn’t do what’s morally wrong even if it was for you to see them again? Maybe Lena would have told you to help Morgana. So you could get home to them and be safe and sound.

One step forward.

But then again, would she have wanted for you to fall into the wrong path because of them? Would she have liked to have that guilt hanging over her head?

One step back.

“You’re still here.” You hear Emma’s voice, and you look back at her. “I was sure you would be out in the woods looking for that woman.”

“So you stepped out to stop me?”

“You know she can’t be trusted, don’t you?” She ignores your question. You agree with your head. “But you’re still considering following her.”

“She might be my only hope to see my family again.” You bite your lower lip, holding your tears. “Henry told me a little about your story. Back when you were a kid, all alone in that universe. If someone could have brought you to your family, wouldn’t you have followed them?”

“I think I would.”

“Then you understand why I’m considering doing it.”

“Trust me, kid. I know what it’s like when others tell you what you can and can’t do, especially when you’re a kid. But ultimately, whatever you’re considering doing or giving up, the choice is yours.” Emma says and you shake your head, confused and lost. You weren’t expecting her to say that. You thought she would stop you immediately. It feels heavy, having a choice. “I know you have no reason to believe us, but we’re not going to stop until we can find a way to your home.”

“You won’t?” You ask, a lonely tear streaming down your face. Emma shows you her hand.

“We won’t.”

And so you take her hand. Leaving Morgana, and maybe your chance of getting home, behind you.

“Hey, are you two ok? We’re ready to leave.” Regina says and Emma looks at you, waiting for your response.

“Hmm, yeah. Sure. Let’s go back to Storybrooke.”

And you all come back. And everyone finds their way into what it seems to be the only diner in town, sharing a table like a big, happy family. And it doesn’t matter how welcome they are making you feel, your heart still aches, and you can’t be around them without being sad and without missing your own family.

So, you step outside, and sit alone on a bench watching leaves flying in the wind. Thinking about what Kara must be looking at right now; wondering if Lena has left her lab in days to see that it is Autumn already; asking yourself how long they will keep looking without success, because as long as there is a curse cloaking this city, they won’t find you.

“Hey.” You watch Snow White coming closer to you, she points at the space next to you. “Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

She sits next to you. “What has come over you?”

“Just thinking that I probably left my only chance of going back home behind.” You sigh, heavily.

“You might have.” Snow agrees with her head, and you look at her waiting for more, because this is not comforting at all. “But it was the right thing to do, and you know that too. Because heroes do what's right. Not what's easy.” You agree with your head, because you’ve heard that before. “You know, every time I look at you I see a very strong hero.”

“Thought you were going to say that you saw yourself when you were younger.” You smile, and she chuckles, denying.

“Oh no. When I was younger, I would’ve followed Morgana into the forest because it was easier. It would’ve been a mistake, because there are other paths – harder paths, and later I would’ve wished to have taken them instead. So, I don’t see me in you. I see someone far greater. But I guess you are a Superhero, huh?”

“Just-” You stop yourself. It’s insane that you’re about to open up to a fairytale princess. But she is here, she looks interested and most of all, she looks like she cares. “I’m not really a hero anymore. Being a hero is exhausting, Snow. We fight every day, and we get beat up, and we get scared. And what for?”

“For the ones who can’t fight for themselves.”

“So because I was born with these powers, I’m supposed to fight for everyone? I’m not supposed to choose what’s right and better for me? What if I want to be selfish?”

“Kid, I know you’re tired of what life has thrown at you.” Snow holds your hand, and you agree with your head, unable to get your words out. “But you still fight for the good every single day. Every time you have hope, and faith, and care, you’re fighting against darkness whether you mean to or not. You did that today with Morgana.”

“But I failed.”

“No, you didn’t fail. She did. Her darkness was too strong. But your light is still intact.” Snow cups your face gently, like a grandmother would. “Sooner or later you will find your way back into saving. Because being a hero is not what you do, but rather who you are.”

“But what if that is not who I want to be?” You ask, eyes filled with tears and fear.

“Oh, honey, but it is.” She gives you a soft smile that says it all. “The choices you make every day it’s what makes you who you are. If Henry was lost in-” She narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

“National City.”

“If he was out there all alone, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to bring him back home?” Snow asks, but she seems to know the answer already, before you even nod at her. “See, being selfish could have made your life a lot easier. But would you be able to live with yourself while doing that?”

“No.” You cry, thinking about your life. “I would probably feel sick, and empty, and-and I don’t think I would make it out of bed.”

Huh. Did you just have a therapy session with princess Snow White?

“See? You can try and run from it, but if it’s who you are then it will always catch up to you. Trust me, I’m familiar with heroes, and you are, for sure, one of us.”

“Indefinitely.” You think about not making home, being stuck in Storybrooke until someone finally lifts the curse. You don’t know how long that will be. You hope your moms don’t give up on finding you.

“For as long as you’ll have us.” Snow throws her arms around you, and you let yourself fall into her comfort.

Being away from your life will suck. But thank Rao, they are the ones you’re stuck with.

Notes:

Am I making a crossover with Supergirl, OUAT and Merlin? Yes, yes I am. And I have to thank @oncemoonie for the prompts. That was really fun

[potter-imagines]

Meadow (George Weasley x Reader)

Prompt: Hi, maybe fred or george (you can choose) and the reader are spending the afternoon in a flower meadow together? (sorry for my english, it's not my first language)🙈😊

Notes: okay I'm sure spring break isn't a thing at hogwarts but for this write, it is . hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluff cause everyone loves george

Word Count: 3.5k

Spring break was winding down to a close as early April broke through. New life was brought to fruition as the snow from the harsh winter evaporated into the ground. Outside the grounds of the Weasley’s home were fields and fields of open land. Flowers sprouted in every step creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Those tumbling plains seemed to extend for miles beyond the horizon. Just beyond those grassy hills and slopes was a large, secluded meadow.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning when a pair invaded the area far before the sun began to rise. The meadow Y/n and George had been occupying seemed to be the perfect location to view the birth of the new season. The perfect spot to enjoy each other’s company. Soon they would be ushered back to Kings Cross and board the Hogwarts Express- George for his last time and Y/n, well it certainly wouldn’t be her last time, no matter how hard she dreamed it was. The topic of George leaving Hogwarts was one the couple tip-toed around. Break was only two weeks but that meant two extra weeks for the pair to be together. With the school year tumbling to an end, George would be leaving school soon with his brother to start his dream and Y/n would be stuck needing to finish her last year at Hogwarts alone. The girl was a year below her boyfriend and although it never caused any friction for the pair, the gap was finally giving them issues.

In George’s mind, arriving to his last school year was both an accomplishment, and a burden. As excited as he was to finally leave those stone walls that held him back, the last thing he wanted was to leave her behind. It didn’t make any of the pain easier knowing that he’d be leaving alongside Fred earlier than the rest of their classmates. Y/n had been the only other living soul Fred and George had filled in on their grand exit plan. They needed someone to keep guard and be a lookout so who better than the one person they trusted not to run their mouth.

There was a heavy smell of earth in the air, mixed with the faint odor of new growth. The vivid green leaves and the cheerful colors of the blossoms are a feast. Flowers popped up from the soiled ground and the fruit hanging from the trees were starting to come to life.

The couple had spent a good portion of their break at the secluded meadow. In a way, it became their little secret spot. Not that it was a secret location by any means. Fred and George had discovered the meadow a few years back when they had ventured miles away from the burrow. The boys were always adventurous, especially when Molly and Arthur finally allowed them free range outside the family home when they were eleven. There were miles and miles of tall grass and woodland that made it easy to get lost. Of course with Fred and George, losing their way was never a worry. When the boys stumbled upon the breathtaking meadow, George seemed to be the only one interested in their find. Fred had wandered off into the section of forest they entered through, his attention captured by a group of baby deer camouflage in the woods. For years George would wander back to the meadow on his own when he needed a break from the loudness of his siblings or grew tired of Ron trailing on his coattails every turn. He promised himself he would keep the spot to himself, let it be his own private sanctuary. This plan ran smooth for a few years before George made the exception to break the rule for one person only.

But for now, the two could only take advantage of the time they had together and they didn’t intend to spend a second apart. It looked as if Y/n and George had stepped straight into a storybook. The grass was Eden-green and thigh-high to a thrush. A neon-blue ribbon of river ran through the ground in a squiggle line. A party of bright yellow ducklings scattered in the calm water, small quacks filling the air. Chirping and sweet songs from the birds made that feeling of Spring become a reality. Buzzing bumble bees and wildflowers sprung along the land. The sounds of nature engulfed the girl whole as she melted into the soft grass.

“I could stay here for the rest of my life- away from people, away from the world. It’s peaceful.” Y/n hummed softly. Her large doe eyes observed the clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the baby blue sky, as if they were boats safely moored in celestial harbour. Peeks of sunlight seeped in through the cracks in the fluffy clouds casting a shimmering light as they danced slowly by in the sky. Just a moment before she was listing off all the animals and objects she saw in the sky. Now she was considering the thought of staring at them forever.

George stole a quick glance down where she laid in his lap. Strands of her h/c hair flowing across his legs and hands. It tickled against his skin as a light breeze swept past. Her abrupt words had caught him off guard. He had missed the sound of her voice for the last hour, although adored the trance-like state of happiness that she was in so he was constantly biting his tongue to keep his thoughts from pouring out. Now that she was somewhat back to earth, he was eager to chat. Tilting his head in her direction George raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” He questioned.

A smile graced her lips as she nodded in confirmation. The land was beautiful, unlike anything she had seen. There certainly weren’t any meadows with such serenity as this in the city of London. For once in her life she could hear the sound of her heart beating in the quietness of the open land and she loved it. No cars honking, no crabby cityfolk shoving their way through crowds, no taxi drivers screaming at pedestrians to move, no bright lights, just nature and all of its creations.

Extending her arm, Y/n pointed out to the land. George followed her direction to see she was gesturing to a small section of the meadow that was surrounded by an eyecatching army of poppies and bellflowers. A large willow tree stood towering over the side. In the middle was a bare section- large enough for a home to fit. Y/n grinned in excitement as she suddenly sat up straight.

“Yeah. Build a little cottage, start a garden, maybe even a family… I think it would be lovely.” She said dreamily. Her eyes looked up to George in wonder, silently asking him to share his opinion. Mirroring her previous actions, George scanned the meadow. He placed his hand against his chin, pretending to think long and hard about her idea. Y/n giggled besides him and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. He chuckled in response and leaned back into the log supporting him. George nodded in agreement to the pondering dream.

There was a casual grace to the meadow, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. It was quaint and humble yet glowing in - like a glorious mansion hidden away in a forest. A hidden gem that was to be kept away from the rest of society. Their own little happy place that opened and bloomed just for them. There was something so magical about the meadow that George couldn’t pass it up. It felt like fate leading him there- leading them.

“Think we could make that work. The family part is a definante- it’s just building a home that’ll take a bit of time. We could get started on making a family of our own right now-” George was cut off when a hand clamped over his mouth. Although he was only joking, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

“George-” She warned playfully.

“Or in a few years. But living out here would be nice. ‘S not like I got to worry about commuting for work. It’d be a nice escape from the shop once we get business running, and once you graduate. Not to mention moving out here would mean I’d get to see more of you in that pretty dress. Flowers in your hair... you look so enchanting, darling.” A bashfulness struck Y/n to her core at his words. Her eyes instinctively shot down to the grass as a paint of red rose to her face. George’s heart quite literally stuttered at her reaction. Making her blush, seeing her smile because of something he said never failed to bring a sense of happiness to George. That damn smile, he thought to himself. He was sure she could convince him of anything when that innocent look took over. It was natural for her. Y/n was simply ethereal in every way.

His hand brushed as gently as a feather across the skin of her cheek. Pushing the daisy back in place behind her ear, George drew his hand down from her ear to her neck. Gripping her softly George pulled her towards his body, lessening the space between the pair. Dipping his head he leaned in towards the girl until their lips were only inches apart. He smirked teasingly, ready to make a remark when Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Linking her hand around his chin she pulled his face in hers with a deep kiss. Although she initiated the gesture, it was George’s response that made her lose all sense of control. His large hands moved from her face to her waist in an instant. Much to Y/n’s surprise he lifted her without warning, still holding her lips in his, and placed her in his lap so she was facing him. Her hands instinctively switched to wrap around his neck for stability. Fingers gripped at his short ginger locks as she adjusted her hips into his.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as her entire body got weaker. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses. Everytime their lips met a rush of adrenaline and love ran through her veins. The muscles in her body went limp at his touch, jelly like. George held a tight lock around her waist keeping her steady against him. He slipped his tongue against her mouth, visibly shuddering when she slid her tongue against his in return. Tension was pooling by the second as the kiss intensified. Y/n’s strawberry dress cascaded down the side of legs as she repositioned in his lap earning a groan from George. Hot breath fanned against her face briefly at her movements. His hand darted from the small of her back to the exposed skin on her upper thigh, pushing her further into his body. The vibration of his voice against her lips and the tight grip of his hands on her thighs sent shivers down her spine. His kiss was sweet, like a long awaited embrace. Stars blurred her vision as George gripped her against his chest. The moment was quickly turning into a not so innocent kiss causing Y/n to slowly detach her lips from his. As she pulled away she remained sat in his lap, fingers brushing along the skin of his face as she admired his beauty. A smug smile was displayed on his face while he repositioned his hands behind his body to hold the pair up. Still holding his face in her palms, Y/n pressed forward to scatter a line of kisses on his cheeks. He chuckled in amusement before her kiss latched to his mouth once more. Between short and passionate pecks she fought for words to tell him how much he meant to her. She wanted to tell him all the emotions of love and desire he brought onto her. Tell him how she could never live with another- how he was the only one she wanted for the rest of her life.

“You’re too good to me, George.” She whispered against his lips. The lack of space between them was intoxicating. Heat emanated from George’s cheeks as he desperately attempted to regain his breath and compose himself. His chest was light with air caused by the sweetness of the girl before him. A small smear of glitter lip gloss covered his bottom lip in a shine.

George tasted a hint of bubble gum as his tongue swept along the skin of his bottom lip.

“I’d give you the whole world if I could but I’m afraid I don’t have the coins for that yet, princess.” Pressing his forehead against hers, George hummed the words. Y/n shook her head with a smile as she countered his grand proposition with one of her own.

“All I need is a quaint, cozy cottage out here and you… well a dog or a kitten would be nice too.” She laughed.

George could only stare at her in that moment. Her words registered although the naturalness to her beauty was too much for him to process. The sun hit her back in with such purpose it was as if she were an angel breaking through the sky. Her strawberry midi dress flowed down her sides and pooled in between his legs. Pretty pink satin clung to her form. The sparkling red strawberries fitted her perfectly. The ruffles on her shoulders gave her the look of a cottage princess, a fairy even. Hair flowing freely in the wind, it was a sight he’d never grow tired of seeing. He’d never seen someone as breathtaking as her.

Taking advantage of his silence, Y/n looked up to George in seriousness. His large brown eyes stared lovingly back to her. Gesturing to the meadow surrounding them, Y/n asked him,

“Do you think you’d be happy out here?”

George tore his stare from the girl to scope out the land once more. All the years he spent wandering down here alone in his mind and looking for some sort of answer to life, now he had found it. He could already picture where he would build a playset for the children and where he’d be able to make a small Quidditch pitch to teach your future kids. Ideas were forming for the house and how many rooms you’d both want. George was thinking somewhere around eight- extra room for more kids. Mapped out where the house would go, where he’d build a garden for you, figured out what tree would be perfect for him to put together a treehouse with Fred for the kids, and where the path would go towards the lake. The layout was quickly forming and he wanted in.

Y/n watched in curiosity as the thoughts swarmed through her lover’s head. She could see him intently thinking things over, then smiling before tilting his face back down at the girl. His head moved down so his lips could press against the skin of her forehead as he kissed her.

“Darling, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be more than happy.” He reassured her.

Y/n melted into the warmth provided by his lips. Her body leaned into his, desperate for more of him. George wrapped his arm around her shoulder tightly and fixed his body so he was sitting tall. She clung to his frame like a koala to a tree, burying her face into the material of his hoodie.

“Once I graduate?” Her muffled voice vibrated against his sternum. George ran his fingers up and down her spine as he held her tight.

“Once you graduate.” George repeated sincerely. Although they’d gone over the conversation a million different times, Y/n couldn’t help the shadow of doubts that crept into her mind. She trusted George with all her heart- every inch of her being but they’d be living in two separate worlds for a year and she worried that was something he might not want. Maybe he would realize he wanted to be with a girl his age, or someone older, someone not stuck at Hogwarts. Even without reason for worry, it still came.

Remaining in his hold yet moving back slightly, Y/n’s eyes darted to the flower covered ground. Her fingers ran along the petals absentmindedly as she worked to find the courage to speak. Her shift in emotions did not go unnoticed by the boy. George focused on the look of contemplation adorning her. As adorable as she looked, he hated seeing her in the slightest bit of distress. This went for any situation whether Y/n was stressed about a class, feeling ill, or just sad because she’s hungry, George does everything in his control to fix it for her.

“You’ll wait for me?” The sudden question took George aback. Her tone was a mix of innocence and fear. His confusion arose for the grave manner of her inquiry. Even if her worries were astonishingly unworldly to George, he knew better than to shut down her insecurities brashly. If the topic at hand weren’t so significant to their relationship, he might even crack a joke. However the seriousness in her features was not to be ignored.

George reached out to interlock his fingers through her warm hands. That comforting smile of his graced his face as he brought her knuckles up to his lips and placed a trial of kisses along the bones.

“Of course I’ll wait, love. No other girl I’d want to spend the rest of my life with- no other girl I want to call my wife, the mother of my children. No one but you, my love.” George insisted. It seemed magical to Y/n the way he always knew exactly what to say. Always so heartfelt and honest in meaning. He never told her a lie to make her happy but somehow managed to piece together a perfect string of words to make her whole again. Something in the way he spoke, in his words, it made her believe nearly anything was plausible. Most of all, she trusted him and believed that he had every intention of sticking around, which brought a sneaking grin to Y/n’s face. All those worries washed away at his words. It was a part she loved deeply about him.

The feeling of George’s touch smoothing over the bottom of her pink dress pulled Y/n back to the meadow. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted past his nose from the perfume he had gifted her for Christmas. His fingers would skim against her bare leg in a teasing fashion as he smirked. Y/n let out a giggle at the tickling sensation of his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support while her bashful grin never ceased.

“There’s that pretty smile.” George remarked with a chuckle. A sense of victory took hold of him at seeing her worries vanish. Arms locked around his neck, Y/n pulled him towards her as her head fell to his chest. Given their limited time, all the couple wanted to do for the next month was be in each other’s arms. George cherished every opportunity he got to hold her, knowing he’d spend the next year missing her everyday. It came in the little things as well like the way her hair always smelled like a basket of delicious fruits, or how she’d hum to herself while they were studying together. He already knew he’d spend most days babbling on to Fred about how much he missed Y/n. Break was almost over which meant the twins would be leaving Hogwarts for good within a few weeks. Y/n dreaded the idea of not seeing George every day, not getting to kiss him or hug him. George hated thinking about having to hear from her through letters and not getting to hear that sweet laughter every day. So for now, all George wanted was to hold his girl and enjoy the excitement for their future he felt budding inside of him.

The colors in the sky were starting to grow brighter by the minute and without saying it, the pair both knew they’d be needing to head back to The Burrow for lunch sooner then they’d care to admit. In the serenity of the meadows the couple found a sense of home. Y/n soaked in their last bits of time in the meadow before George mentioned them heading back. Although neither moved at his words but instead remained holding onto one another.

“I love you, George.”

“I love you more, princess.”

[spooky-luvur]

May I request a Dutch saving male reader after a really bad argument from the Pinkertons and/or Colm and getting really hurt and barley just survives?

tw: violence, language

-

“Whoo wee, look at him, boys!”

“We got ‘em good!”

“Look at all that blood!”

Their yells make the pounding in your ears louder.

It was a simple run.

Why wasn’t it just a simple run?

You had a single gun when you ran into a few O’Driscoll’s a couple miles from town. You were only passing by on your horse when they started to belittle you and mock Dutch from the side of the road. They said a few things that didn’t quite settle with you, and so you jumped from your horse, smacked his rear to make him run off back to camp, and the next thing you remember is pain.

You weren’t even tied up as they kick you on the ground in front of some cabin in the woods. Your eyes are nearly swollen completely shut, and the entire left side of your body is numb. Were you shot? Stabbed? You honest to god couldn’t tell. There was too much blood.

Someone kicks you in the side and you groan. You couldn’t even curl up to cover yourself.

“Maybe you shoulda held your tongue, boy!”

“Maybe...” you choke out, the word sounding odd on your broken lips. “Maybe I woulda...if you weren’t so...damn ugly...”

There’s more yelling, and an even harder kick to your jaw that nearly makes you pass out.

“Why I outta-“

“Come on! He ain’t bloody enough just yet!”

One of the stinky men kneel down next to your head, using a knife to rip away the front of your shirt. It stings, because he manages to hit your skin as well with every rip. Like paper cuts that hurt like hell, only bigger and all over your chest.

More tears are forced out of your leaking eyes because damn it, you’re on the ground nearly dying, and it makes you so damn angry because you can’t do a damn thing about it. If only you’d taken Hosea’s advice and learn how to control your anger. He always did say it would be what killed you.

“Hell, if you had a cunt, we’d take you right here!”

You mentally throw up and probably actually do a little in your mouth as there’s a boot holding your shoulder down harshly, a knife drawing across your ribs, and a hand pressing and digging it’s nails into the several wounds across your abdomen.

“Go to hell,” is all you manage.

“You first-“

There’s suddenly more blood on you than there was a split second ago, and you feel as if your arm was detached from your body. You can’t even scream, it gets stuck in your throat. Barely managing to turn your head as the other men jump away from you with yelps of surprise, you see you’d been shot in the shoulder the man was standing on. Your eyes trail further up, meeting with the ugly grey ones of Colm. Oh how you wanted to rip his greasy hair from his head-

“Now boys, just what the hell are you doin?”

“Colm! We found one of Dutch’s boys mouthin’ off to us!”

“Well I’ll be damned. If it ain’t Mr. (L/n). Heh. What are you doin’ so far away from your king?”

“Oh, fuck you...”

Colm laughs and kicks you in your wounded shoulder, spurs cutting deep. You cry out, but can’t even lift your head. Cant use your mouth to spit on his boot.

“Save that for Dutch.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Colm.”

The O’Driscoll boys stumble back, immediately going for their guns on their belts. In just a split second, everyone has a gun pointed at one another. Oh, Dutch. My savior.

“I don’t quite like how you’ve been treating our friend, friend.” The controlled anger on Dutch’s face could make the Devil high-tail outta Georgia.

“Well I don’t quite enjoy your boys killin mine, Dutch.” Colm retorts.

There’s a moment of silence, of sharp end grey between the two men, before Colm’s eyes leave Dutch’s and see just how outnumbered he really is. Arthur is at one side of him, John on the other. Bill and Javier had circled around and taken a spot behind Colm and his men, Charles and Micah to the side. He was surrounded.

He realizes this, takes a deep breath, and slowly holsters his guns, quietly chuckling. Dutch does the same.

“Oh, what would you be without your boys, Dutch.”

“A lot more than you’d be, Colm.”

After they had taken off on their horses, you don’t think you’d ever been more grateful of the pain of behind lifted up and standing. You’d really thought you’d die on that spot of Gods green earth.

“Goddamn O’Driscolls,” John scowls from your left, grip tightening on your arm that had been slung around his shoulders. “I’ll kill ‘em. Every last one.”

“Same some for me,” you mutter.

It’s a long, hard trip back to Horseshoe. You can’t even open your eyes and see who gets you up off the back of Johns horse. You can only tell it’s one of the bigger men as you have to be lifted and carried over to your tent. You can hear Grimshaw fussing over you, shooing the others away.

But for Dutch, you can crack your heavy eyes open and look at him the best you can. The man lays a hand on your own, patting it.

“You’ll be just fine, son. Back to your best shape in no time. I’m glad we got there when we did.”

“Me too.”

He laughs a little, and pats your hand again before stepping away and letting Grimshaw work. Your eyes don’t leave his back until he’s out of sight. Dutch has saved your life yet again. You’d honestly do anything for the man.

Anything.

[the-fiction-witch]

A kid.

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT

COUPLE BENNY WATTS X READER

RATING FLIRTY

Well that's all over and done with, time to get myself a cola. I headed off from the set up area with all the boards over to the small bar area in the hotel

"Hey, one cola please" I told him and he nodded getting one out the little fridge behind the bar I paid him and took the glass bottle having a nice sip, it was ice cold and refreshing. I finished up my bottle and left it on the bar before fixing my jacket and heading back into the hotel to the board it should be updated by now, and I'm going to be playing...

Arthur something or other I couldn't read the writing of whoever had done it, table sixteen.

So I headed over to the table expecting the usual some stuck up guy inna suit with greased back hair and a pocket protector for his pencil but as I got to the table I was... Admitedly surprised.

It was a kid.

About four if I had to guess, in little polished shoes, some black little kids suit pants a white button down and a black vest jumper over it, but he looked strange to me, he had a mop of blonde and brown hair and dark brown eyes.

"Hey you holding the seat or something kid?" I asked checking this was infact table sixteen

"Mr Watts I presume" he says getting up and standing on the peice of wood across the two chair legs to be higher offering his hand to me I shook it and sat down across from him still very confused

"So your arthur?"

"Yes, and your Benny" he says fixing his peices

"How old are you?" I asked him

"Five. Why?"

"Hu..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing, impressive being at this level at your age. I was ambitious at that age too"

"White moves first" he reminds me as he clicked the clock on I did a classic opening and clicked the clock back "I've heard alot about you" he says as he plaid on

"Have you know? Always wise to check up on a champion" I told him

"All bad" he says

"Was it now?" I laughed "who taught you if you don't mind my asking?"

"My mum"

"Your mum... Tell you about me?"

"Umm. She does not have a high opinion of you" he says "says you play like a defensive hack and dress like a cowboy"

"... I like your mother" I laughed I focused on the game I thought I could go easy on this kid but he was smart, tactful, intellectual, much like I was at his age, in fact the more I sat and looked at him the more it felt like... Looking in a mirror somewhat I saw so much of myself in him, he was just as I was in that age. He even kinda looked like I did at that age, "check" I told him he sighed and load his king down "good game," I told him offering my hand and he happily shook it "you uhh your good kid. I'm sure I will get to play you again, maybe I won't be so lucky that time" I told him making him smile

"Thank you Mr Watts"

"Your welcome," I smiled "ohh Arthur what exactly the boards unreadable"

"Arthur y/l/n"

"Hu... Y/l/n? Why does that sound so familiar?" I said more to myself "where's your mum anyway?"

"I'm not sure she went to get coffee" he says

"What's your mum's name?" I asked him still unable to get that thought out my head where have I heard that name before

"Y/n. Y/n y/l/n" another voice spoke up a voice I could have bet my life I knew

"Mummy!" He smiled jumping off the table and into her arms hugging her leg, I turned and saw her... Y/n y/l/n. A girl I met years ago she was trying to make it into the more professional chess circuit out of the things like the small state tournaments to more of the southern championship and beyond but I mentored her for a while and... We ended up getting close, she was... Just as I had remembered her, in her classic black heels, her black stockings, her little white dress with a black cargiden over it, her hair in those perfect curls I remembered, she looked... Good. I mean she always did but fuck she looked good, or maybe I'm just distracted by the fact her tits have grown like three sizes bigger. I was gobsmaked to see her I haven't seen her in years she gave arthur a cuddle Patting his hair "how'd you do kiddo?"

"I lost"

"Hey, no worries, once we finish up I'll get you some ice cream okay?"

"Okay" he smiled

"Go get your things then" she told him so he came back to the table to gather his paper and pencil and such "hi Benny"

".... Hi." I said with a gulp getting up going over and giving her hand a kiss "you... You look amazing, how are you I haven't seen you in years?"

"Doing okay, been busy with this little guy" she laughed

"I can imagine so, you have taught him well"

"Well, I had a good teacher" she smiled playing with my chains in that playful way she always would

"Humm hell yeah you did" I smirked as she rested her hands on my chest "surprised I had the time to reach you anything" I smirked wrapping my own around her to sit on her hips, fuck her ass is bigger too "you look amazing."

"Didn't I always?"

"You did but... You've improved with age my little flower, like a fine wine" I smirked "fuck have I missed you" I growled in her ear but then I remembered, as I caught Arthur out the corner of my eye stood with his stuff starting at us oh right... The kid.

"What's going on?" He asked

"Nothing kiddo, mummy and Mr Watts know each other" she smiled "don't we?"

"Uhhh yeah, yes I uhh do in fact know your mother, I uh I thought I did" I stuttered

"How do you know my mummy?"

"Ughhhhhh, your mother and I... Used to uhhh" I stuttered unsure what to say, the kids five I can't exactly tell him 'oh hey yeah sorry kid I used to bang your mother and she still looks hot so you mind fucking off while I see if she'll still let me hit that?'

"We used to play together, didn't we Benny?"

"Yes, we used to play together" I nodded "we just haven't seen each other in ... Roughly five and half... Years." I said as it all sort of clicked. "Oh my god"

"Yeah there we go" she giggled "kiddo, get mummy a ice water and get yourself something nice" she smiled handing him a few dollars from her purse he nodded and ran off all while my brain was trying to process this "so..."

"So... That's why you up and left?"

"Yep"

"Okay. You left because you were pregnant. I got you pregnant. That is my kid. Why am I just now hearing about this!"

"How so?"

"Hes five! Why am I just now getting news that I have a fucking kid?" I asked her "why did you not tell me? Phone? Letter? Telegram? Come to my apartment I literally haven't even moved!"

"I was under the impression you didn't want anything to do with me anymore"

"Anything to- y/n. Of course I did whatever made you think I didn't?"

"The fact you ran off to moscow with clio and didn't even tell me?"

"It was last minute, and I knew you couldn't because you didn't have a passport, ... I was heartbroken when I came back and you weren't there."

"I figured you where done with me, moved on to the next girl"

"Even if you did think that, and even if I was why wouldn't you tell me you where pregnant?"

"I didn't find out till months later, I knew the rut you where in after moscow so... I didn't want to bring it up, so I just made it on my own," she says "I've missed you benny"

"I've missed you more" I told her giving her cheek a kiss

"He loves chess, took to it as a baby, he liked pushing the peices around, he makes me read him chess books at night"

"Does he know? That I'm his dad?"

"No, not like he needs to"

"Y/n, have you... Got married?"

"No, still single, not dates anyone since our... Playing together" she laughed

"Then, if you'll let me, I'd love to take you out to dinner tonight. Both of you." I told her and her face lit up "he's my kid y/n, I wanna be a part of his life, and... Yours if you'll let me"

"I love to" she smiled hugging me tightly nuzzling into my neck

"I really have missed you y/n, I meant every word of it, and... You do really look good" I laughed

"Thank you, so do you" she giggled "you have another game to get to benny"

"Oh right, yeah. I will see you later then" I told her

"See you later" she smiled I went to go and see the board to see where I had to be next but she held my hand and brought me back to her giving my lips a gentle kiss I happily kissed back fuck her lipstick even tastes the same "lucky kiss" she giggled

"Thank you," I told her giving her a kiss too "see you later my little flower"

[jessie-writes-things]

I might be driven to sell your love for peace

I bloody love writing for Pero and King Arthur. It gives me comforting Skyrim vibes. 😂

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Neutral Reader

Words: 600

Genre: Generic. Fluff? Soft angst.

Warnings: very very vague mentions of death (a kingdom is mentioned to have burnt down). The vaguest mention of sex you'll ever read.

Based on this post in which I googled ‘love poems’ then asked people to give me a number (the poem) and a character (the subject). I gave myself half an hour to write and this is what I shat out. 😅 This one was directed by @writeforfandoms!

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;

Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink

And rise and sink and rise and sink again;

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,

Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

Yet many a man is making friends with death

Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,

Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,

Or nagged by want past resolution's power,

I might be driven to sell your love for peace,

Or trade the memory of this night for food.

It well may be. I do not think I would.

- Love is Not All by Edna St. Vincent Millay

***

The world was full of magic. Pero had experienced it first-hand. Faraway lands. Stones with unthinkable powers. Great big monsters only thought of to be in stories rampaging kingdoms.

He would think that princes and princesses would fall in love, battle the evils of the world together, save the kingdom. But love didn’t work like that. It was more confusing, more subtle. Pero wasn’t even sure he had ever been in love, or if he had, he sure to the gods he didn’t know it.

Or maybe he had? The strange bubbling feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach whenever he saw you weren’t new. Although, he put it down to nerves at first. William had taken a job too far above their pay grade; protect noble, get them home safe. Storybook stuff.

What they hadn’t expected was for the kingdom to be in ruins, burnt to the ground with nothing left. You had nowhere else to go. They had nowhere else to be and you weren’t too bad of company, despite Pero’s constant complaints about everything.

They had been stuck at a crossroad for a few days. William didn’t want to admit to being lost and the two of you humoured him at first, but as the days ticked on and another chilly night fell again, it was getting harder and harder to maintain a cool head.

The three of you stopped in the shelter of woods, under an ancient oak that provided enough protection from any ill-willed passers-by. William, feeling the tension, remarked some bullshit about going on a hunt before wandering into the last sprinkles of daylight peeking through the trees.

And so there left two. And it was fine. Neither of you was much for talking, sitting by the bark of the giant tree, watching the clear water river trickle along.

Dusk looked good on you, Pero realised, golden light kissing the tops of your cheeks and bringing out the colours in your hair he had never noticed before. It made him question how soft your skin would be, your heart beating in time with his as he kissed you, warm lips against his. You would be too soft compared to him, compared to the rough woodland floor as he laid you benefit him.

But it wasn’t love. Couldn’t be love.

‘I heard talk in the market.’ You had caught him watching, your eyes on his. But you didn’t say anything about it, maybe because you didn’t mind, ‘In the village this morning. There was another attack not far from there.’

‘They are after you?’ Whoever they were. It had been weeks and they were no closer to figuring anything out.

You shrugged, ‘I guess.’

‘What did you do?’ Pero had meant it as a joke, but his words always came out a little rough around the edges, like small blades slicing through a heart. For the first time in his life, he was cursing his own mouth, wishing he could be more like his friend, a little smoother, less abrupt.

But you laughed, a sweet glimmer in your eyes and Pero had a sudden urge to paint you, wanting to keep that look of joy with him forever. ‘If I knew, I would tell you.’

‘Maybe we sell you?’ His humour was dark, but your response gave him light, ‘Love for peace.’

‘At least then you’d have food to eat.’

Even then, Pero knew he was playing a dangerous game. Dipping his heart into the burning hot coals and watching it turn white in the flames. Maybe he was in love, would that be such a bad thing?

[hetalia-has-a-secretary]

kids au? or better human au? I do not know, but the allies and the axis are reunited with their first love s / o. To which they never managed to confess what they felt and S / o is better than they remembered. Some headcanons of the school time in the past and of the reunion of both.

This is a Hallmark AU (Hallmark is an American channel that has the most romantic, but cheesiest and slightly annoying romance movies. I'm talking like, that one miscommunication that messes up the almost official relationship, despite both the man and woman finally getting along after they tried to dislike each other even though it was painfully obvious they liked each other). But yeah, this would be a Human AU lol.

Allies an Axis reconnect with S/O!

Allies:

America:

His heart and body stopped dead on the college campus.

Standing in front of him was S/O. Someone he hasn't seen in years.

They had moved away the day he was going to admit his feelings to them.

He remembers the times they ran across the road they lived in, and played underneath a tree in the field.

He remembered the one time they cut open their knee, and he had to carry them back home. Even though they could still walk, he wanted to be their hero.

Time skip back to the present, they were back!

He ran to them full speed, and hugged them, telling them how much they missed them, and how much he loved them.

"Alfred? Alfie!?"

He sputtered as he realized what he had admitted too, and hearing the childhood nickname brought blush to his face.

His S/O smiled and pulled him in, repeating his vows of affection.

England:

He scoffed at the group of people who were being a bit too rowdy in the town library.

He eventually had enough and was about to ask them to tone it down when he caught sight of a familiar face.

His S/O was standing in a group of their friends. Their happy aura making them twice as lovely as they were the day the had to go back to their hometown. Supposedly to help an old friend.

It seemed that even back then they spent most of their time reading the worst rated books to each other.

Joining all the little craft fairs the librarians held at the establishment. He still has the bracelet S/O made him.

He had to swallow the lump in his throat. Eyes eventually locking.

S/O had excused themselves from their group, and immediately ran to him, hesitating to hug him.

Arthur stopped them from doing so, and for some reason did the most cheesiest thing. He kissed the knuckles to their hand. No turning back now.

He complimented them, saying they looked just as beautiful they day he wanted to admit his feelings to them.

He was lucky they felt the same.

France:

He spent his whole college career trying to make it into the modeling industry.

He had books and books of clothing designs to submit, but all had failed. And he was left working as a barista in some shady coffee shop.

He sighed as he heard the bell ding, a new customer who would probably complain about the mucky drinks.

But as he turned he was immediately taken back to the day his S/O first moved to town.

They lived across the street from him, and his S/O had turned around seeing him standing on the sidewalk, getting the mail.

They had both shyly waved to each other, and for a few days Francis left them small gifts, too shy to talk to them face to face, and never able to tell them his feelings.

But now, they're standing in front of him.

They hadn't recognized them, but he was so lost in thought the only thing he could manage was to wave at them

That waved must have rang a bell Because his S/O went "Wait- Are you the kid from across the street? The one who left me like, a pink paper airplane on my porch?"

His face went 50 shades of red as he started spitting out excuses and apologies.

After taking his order, he noticed they left their receipt behind. And a cell number.

China:

Balance. Focus. Deep breathing.

All things Yào had for his martial arts training in the park. He was working on his Tai chi when some stranger's dog had ran under his legs, knocking him over.

All he could hear was someone apologizing, finally getting control of their dog.

He shot up to yell at the stranger but something stopped him.

The stranger looked painfully familiar, so once introductions were made, it dawned on him.

It was S/O. The two of them use to hide away from the other kids in grade school. He was the only asian in their class so he got picked on by everyone but S/O.

They had found an abandoned shack in the woods and they cleaned it up, making it their own. A base to go to when they were troubled.

Yào cracked a smile at them, and teased them about how he use to have a crush on them, a way to see how they felt.

He couldn't stop the blush that came with S/O admitting to crushing back at him.

Russia:

He had met his S/O in his second year of College. It was unexpected.

They had came into the school year almost half way through so they seemed extremely lost.

Knowing how akward and hard it was to be in that situation he built up the courage to try and talk to them.

"E-excuse me. Do you need the- to be- shown round school?"

His broken english wasn't as bad as it once was, but his nerves caught up to him. Even hearing S/O laugh made his heart flutter.

He was surprised when it wasn't at him, and when they said yes- his stomach was doing backflips.

That was then, this is now. He had to go back to Russia, and they had said their goodbyes, thinking they'd never see each other again.

But after a year or so he decided to move back to America. Back to the town that gave him so much.

He'd be lying if he wasn't hoping to meet his S/O and maybe, just maybe, admit to what he felt.

He already knew S/O wanted to work at a certain place in town, so when he got the chance he went straight there.

To his sadness though, they weren't there. Nor did they ever work there.

Passing by the campus he was surprised at what he saw.

They were still in college?

Turns out a few class credits from high school didn't take, so they were slowly working on earning them back.

But the reunion was a welcomed one. Both had run into each other's arms at the sight. Ivan immediately showing confidence and asking if they were dating anyone.

"No, why?"

"Well, now you can be dating! Me, da?"

The smile his S/O was all he needed for a yes.

Axis:

Germany:

His college days were long behind him, including his dating days.

They were on his mind often, and even though he never told S/O how he felt, in his heart the time they spent together was all he needed to satisfy him.

That was until one day someone called his construction company to help get a roof fixed.

There was something about their voice that sent an odd, familiar sensation down his spine.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he went to the site himself.

The person who opened the door was S/O

The same person who helped him bring Feli to the nurse's office when he was "accidentally" pushed down some stairs.

They helped Luddy calm his anger and nerves over the days Feli had to recover from a fractured ankle and a broken finger.

Now he stood at the door, just as pleasantly stunned as S/O.

They hit it off like they weren't apart the last 5 years.

Japan:

His heart sank the day his parents were rejected the ability to go to America.

The day they were supposed to fly in, was the day someone in an office lost track of some documents. Preventing them from even getting a green light to even go.

Even with the sad news, it wasn't going to stop him. He made all the calls he could, and decided to take a break after two hours.

Walking through town he soon spotted someone working outside at a cafe.

It was an old friend of his. It was S/O.

He wasn't planning on eating just yet, but he had to know for sure if it was them.

Years ago they had ran into him, more literally than metaphorically, and since then they would hang out when they could.

One specific memory was during high school, and they decided to play tennis. He couldn't help but laugh as his S/O got the ball stuck in the fencing more than once.

Sitting down, he waited for someone to take his orders.

To his surprise his waiter was S/O, who recognized him off the bat.

Deciding to take their break early, they got them and Kiku their desired food, and chatted.

Before going back in the clock, Kiku had asked them when they could talk next.

His S/O gave a day and address, and said "So it's a date then?"

Kiku could do nothing but blush and nod, maybe a bit more agressively than he wanted too.

Italy:

Deep breaths. One step at a time, he tells himself. The very first day of middle school.

He was always a really shy kid, especially at school.

He can be a bit loud at times but he's really a gentle soul with a heart of gold

Sometimes, even in your own country, that can get you looked down upon. Sometimes it just takes someone from the outside to remember there's more on the horizon.

He first met his S/O (a transfer student for the next couple years) the first day school started. He was already too nervous, but his S/O saw the amount of alone time he has, minus his brother being near by, and decided to try and make friends.

The conversation went okay, the language barrier being a slight set back, but the more they hung out, the easier both of their languages became. By the time his S/O left, they were pretty fluent and Bilingual.

It's been almost years since then, but he spotted his S/I, ironically, the first day of College.

They were unmistakable from their signature laugh, and Feli had gained a lot of courage talking to people since he met them.

Tapping them on their shoulder, an odd wave of giddiness filled him. What he once thought was happiness from having a friend, he now recognizes as love.

It took him a few weeks, but he eventually asked them out, and the beating in his chest filled his ears as they said yes.

Thank you so much to the Anon who spotted the fact Italy was forgotten! Thank you~!

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Blank Spots [20] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Violence, kidnapping.  NOTE: Chapter 20, damn. lol I’m not feeling 100% about this chapter but I wanted to get something out this weekend. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.      TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

You knew there was some conflict in you about how everything turned out, the hurt Arthur caused still lingering somewhat but you knew you had to take that as it were.

Yet, you felt good. It felt good to finally cross that point with him--again. Perhaps things weren’t the same as they were in your memory, how sure you were in your relationship with him. However, things weren’t the same since Blackwater. You knew that even when your memory had been worse than it was currently, struggling to remember names and faces, let alone whole relationships. A part of you felt like you may never fully remember your relationship with Arthur, but you felt like you had finally taken a step in the right direction with your relationship with him currently. 

Admittedly, it had been a little difficult to leave the small privacy of that beach where you had kissed him a couple days ago. To return to camp, to the dilemmas and course of normalcy you had found within. As normal as a group of outlaws could get, at least. For a while, you weren’t sure how Arthur wanted to approach this development, if it was worth telling people. You had realized that it would just be announcing what they already knew, but...well, maybe you were just overthinking that. 

Really, it seemed like Arthur just took it in stride. Too exhausted to make a thing out of it, or if there was a point to doing so. A part of you was relieved. 

Still, you did catch a couple eyes at the added bounce to your step, and the lingering touches when Arthur would seek you out as he was starting to move about on his own a little more frequently. He seemed to avoid outright public affection, something you had caught onto pretty quickly, but the two of you weren’t exactly hiding it. Still, nobody really felt the need to comment on it much outside of the odd question, which you found yourself not really minding. 

It felt like you were allowed to let it go where it may without getting caught up in old expectations. Though, you weren’t too sure on where Arthur’s head was at, but he didn’t seem overly disappointed over that. You’d just have to trust him to tell you if he had an issue with anything. 

Despite everything that happened to him, Arthur eventually seemed to return to his normal self after a while. A little thicker in beard and with a stiffer shoulder, but otherwise he seemed to have gathered himself back up after the whole ordeal with the O’Driscolls. You were greatly relieved at that, as much as you knew he would have to get back to gang business and what that entailed. 

So, you weren’t too surprised to find him approach you one late afternoon with news that he had business in town with Bill and some other gang members. 

“You sure you got the strength for whatever that will be?” you asked, Arthur rolling his previously injured shoulder somewhat. 

“‘Bout as much as I’ll need,” he replied, “Can’t stay here forever, I gotta get back to what needs doin’.” 

“I know,” you replied, giving him a small smile, “I just don’t want you hurting yourself again. I don’t think anybody can take you stuck in bed for another couple weeks.” 

“Myself included,” he returned with a small huff. 

As much as you had tried to cover it with a touch of humor, you really did worry he might injure himself again by getting back out there so soon. At all, really. You knew what type of life he led, what they all led, and the chance of a bullet to the skull was always high. You could remember the way Arthur had fallen off his horse that night, how he barely was able to move his legs to get to his cot. You had struggled with the feeling at the time, but you knew that regardless of how everything had developed after, you didn’t want to see him like that again. 

Yet...well, there was always a chance that you just might. 

“You’ll be safe?” you asked after a moment, glancing at him. Arthur shifted, glancing down for a moment before meeting your gaze. 

“Hate to be the one to say it, but I ain’t afforded that luxury. Not with this life.” 

He did have a point, as much as you didn’t like that answer. 

“Hey, I’m gonna be fine,” Arthur said after a moment, “Bill’s probably just got some lead, nothin’ too complicated.” 

“Because everything lately has been so easy…” you muttered, stepping into his side as Arthur reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulder, a small grin touching your face when you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Alright,” you replied with a nod, letting out a small sigh as you wrapped an arm around his back somewhat, “You know what you’re doing. Just be careful--for my sake, if anything.” 

“I’ll try,” he replied, squeezing you to his side a little before releasing the embrace. You turned to face him once he had done so, watching as he seemed to glance off toward the horses for a moment before turning back toward you. 

“Been thinkin’ we should head out to get the last of that treasure map,” he said after a moment, pulling a small grin from you, “Get outta here for a bit.” 

“I’d like that,” you said with a nod, “Let all this play out first, though.” 

“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a small grin of his own as you squeezed his arm somewhat before he turned to head out toward the horses. 

You were worried, but you couldn’t fight the inevitable with Arthur turning his attention back to the gang. Perhaps it was a touch selfish, but you also knew everything that had happened had shaken you up some. Still, you were going to have to let that go. Some of it. You knew you had questions and a distrust of Micah that stemmed from what he did to you on that mountain and now what happened with Arthur. 

That was a touch subject to approach, yet one you knew you would have to mention to Arthur eventually. It was just...hard to talk about. There was Micah himself, but even the memory of it filled you with such dread and fear. 

Still, it couldn’t continue to go unsaid. 

“Glad to see that fight you two was havin’ is cleared up,” a familiar voice from behind you said, turning to glance over your shoulder to see Abigail standing there. 

She stood there with a cup of coffee, giving you a small smile as you let out a small huff. 

“Yeah, and then some,” you replied as she walked up to stand beside you as she finished off her beverage. 

“If only I could get John to see some damn sense. Ain’t from lack of tryin’,” she said around a sigh, you giving her a small nod. 

It wasn’t the same screaming matches you heard from Dutch and Molly, and lord had those only gotten worse, but you knew Abigail and John had their moments in camp. Really, when you saw Abigail storming out from that tent they shared, you knew to give her some space. Still, you weren’t witness to the specifics of their relationship--well, if you had, it didn’t matter with your memory now. 

“Grimshaw’s sayin’ Pearson needs a hand with dinner,” Abigail said after a moment, “Figure two hands might get us eatin’ all the quicker.” 

Honestly, that didn’t sound too bad. You would need the distraction. You followed her out toward the food wagon once she had gotten her fill of the moment she had walked in on between you and Arthur. Still, even with the chopping of the vegetables and meat, you still couldn’t really shake this feeling that lingered at your back. You just...well, you were worried. That was what it was, and you were sure you would end up feeling foolish for it when they all returned back to camp. 

Thankfully, your partial absentmindedness didn’t cost you a finger or injury. Though, you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Abigail touch your shoulder, a look of mild irritation crossing her expression. 

“Think I can wrap up the rest,” she said, “Think you can Jack for me? I think he’s playin’ in the woods near the edge of the river. Maybe the boy’ll listen to you quicker while I finish here.” 

You let out a soft chuckle, passing her the last of the food you had to chop up. “We’ll see, but sure.” 

Rinsing your hands in one of the washbasins nearby, you headed out toward the mouth of the river near the path leading out of camp. You didn’t see any sign of him from where you stood--he wasn’t tossing rocks into the water or drawing in the dirt with a stick like he usually was. You could feel a small twist to your gut, hoping that he was just in the tree line and you wouldn’t have to wander off to find him. 

You dropped down onto the bank, following it along until you were able to step up and into the trees. You paused for a moment, listening for anything before walking further in. 

“Jack?” you called out, pausing in your walk, “Your mama’s looking for you!” 

Silence. More twisting in your gut. You really hoped he was just playing a game not wandered off or…

You moved with more purpose into the trees, calling his name once more before you heard some movement nearby. However, as you did so, you heard a muffled cry that sounded from very close nearby. Yet, as you turned to look in that direction, something very solid and hard jabbed into the centre of your back. The pain radiated up your spine, settling hard in your kidneys as you felt your knees hit the ground. 

“Stay down!” an unknown voice hissed, your eyes lifting as someone stepped out from around a tree. He had his hand pressed against Jack’s mouth as he squirmed in his grasp. Instantly, you tried to stand up but you felt a hard kick to your side in retaliation. 

“I said ‘stay down!’” the voice behind you said, hissing the words between his teeth before the man holding Jack spoke up. 

“The hell’re you doin’?” he demanded, “We was just to get the kid.” 

“What? Have her run back into that camp and tell everybody what happened? We’ll have them all on us ‘fore we can even get anythin’ outta this.” 

What?

“We ain’t got time for this,” the man in front of you replied, “Take ‘em both.” 

You heard Jack let out a cry behind the hand over his mouth, however you didn’t really get the chance to fully process what was happening before you felt a solid hit to the back of your head. Instantly, you heard ringing in your ears, before another hit sent you into darkness. 

                                                            ***

Your head was pounding, feeling the sway of a horse under you as you could feel the strain of your arms tucked behind your back. Blinking open your eyes, you saw the ground under you moving with the quick strides of the horse you were currently slung over the back of. You took in the breath before the events from before flooded into your head, causing you to jerk your head up. You could see passing trees as you were rode down some large pathway, seeing another rider ahead with an arm wrapped around Jack. 

Twisting, you tried to see if you could roll off the horse but the tug at your shoulder told you that you were secured to the back of the saddle. Shit, no. 

You thought about yelling, screaming, trying to see if anybody would catch on but with how fast they were riding up the path and how empty the area seemed to be, you knew it would only just make things worse. 

It wasn’t long before you caught sight of the large structure at the end of the path--a plantation house. You squirmed as they stopped outside the steps, hearing Jack let out a yell as he was pulled from the horse in front of you. The rider of the one you were on the back off slipped off his saddle as the doors to the house opened, your world swaying somewhat as you were pulled to the ground. 

You grunted as your face hit the gravel, likely leaving a couple cuts as you grit your teeth against the sharp and familiar headache. 

“I told you to only get the boy,” a woman’s voice said from the stairs above you. 

“She walked in on us,” you heard the man holding Jack say as you felt a pair of hands grip at your arms, hauling you to your feet. “Guess we’ll have to see what we can do with this one.” 

“Damn useless,” the woman replied, your gaze lifting to see her beckon your captors inside. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you were shoved forward, catching the steps before being dragged up them and into the house. 

You could hear Jack crying, a part of you wanting nothing more than to comfort the kid but you knew it would be only so fleeting if you didn’t get out of here. 

“Bronte’s men are coming within the hour to pick up the boy,” she continued, “I don’t see why they would take her too, but I’ll have to figure something out. Separate them.” 

“What the hell does that mean? Who is that?” you demanded, despite yourself, “H-He’s just a little boy! Please!” 

“Shut her up,” the woman demanded, sounding much like she was done with the situation as Jack called your name. 

“It’s going to be okay, Jack!” you called out as he was carried away from you toward another room. You heard a chuckle behind you, a tug on your arm turning you roughly toward the stairs leading to the upper floors. 

“Sure is,” your captor stated, “Boy’s goin’ to Saint Denis, but you? We’ll get you sorted out.”

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

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

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

Chapter Thirteen

With unsure nods, the pair vacated the kitchen and back into the living room. There was a mix of weeping family members and those out doing something. Searching the area, thinking of where Hermione could’ve gone. 

Ron soon decides he’s done being in the mourning category. He needs to remain strong and vigilant, for no one else but Hermione. 

“Someone needs to get Dumbledore here.” Ron’s shaky voice says, commanding all eyes to him. 

“Albus?” Arthur asks curiously, his eyes a little glassed over as he rubs Molly’s back. 

The youngest Weasley brother nods, “You-Know-Who he wanted,” he inhaled, trying to keep his voice leveled, “he wanted Hermione.”

Eyes widened in shock. Bill’s mouth hangs open as Lupin furiously paces the room, tapping at his temple. 

“What would that bastard want with Hermione?” George grumbles lowly, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We don’t know,” Harry finally spoke, “that’s why we need Dumbledore. Now.” His tone left no room for argument. 

“I’ll do it.” Lupin tells the group, stalking off to the kitchen. 

Everyone was rather astounded by the proclamation, they were expecting Remus to push Ron or Harry to divulge what happened.

“I got it.” Tonks announced, suddenly appearing from the back door. 

Everyone whirled around to face her, “her wand, I have it. It’s Hermione, isn’t it?” The woman’s voice became softer. 

Ron stepped forward and gently took it from Tonks hand. 

‘Not so brave without our wand, are we muddy?’ 

He shivers as the cold wood caresses his hand. 

“She hasn’t got a wand,” Ginny moaned behind the veil of hair she had been hiding behind, “she’ll die.” 

“Oi Ginny!” Ron said angrily, no one had ever seen him this mad before, his sister flinched. 

“Don’t you say things like that.” Molly told her daughter, hugging her to her chest. 

They were all interrupted by a soft rapping on a nearby window. 

“Dumbledore already?” Charlie said aloud. 

Instinctively, Ron pocketed Hermione’s vine wood wand and drew his own. Arthur lurched to the window, ready to strike, when he stopped. 

Breathing a sigh of relief he turned, “it’s your owl Harry.” 

“Hedwig?” He asked suspiciously as he stalked toward the bird. 

Tied to her leg was a rolled up piece of parchment. Giving her a nice pet first, he soon untied the contents and noticed it was addressed to Hermione. 

“Who is it?” Bill asked. 

He sucked in a breath, “it’s for Hermione, it’s from her parents.” His voice dropped at this. 

Molly suddenly let out a small cry, completely forgetting that her own parents were to be told that their child, their only child, was gone. 

“What’s it say?” Fred piped up from his spot on the arm chair. 

Harry’s eyes fell on Ron’s, “I’m not sure if it’s my place to open it.” 

Wordlessly, he passed the envelope over to Ron, whose mouth was agape at being trusted with such a thing. 

Ignoring the gazes from his family, he peeled open the thing and let his eyes fix on the page. He skimmed every other line as certain sentences stuck out. 

Merry Christmas! 

We’ll send your gifts as soon as we’re home. 

I hope you’re being kind to the Weasley’s. 

We’re sorry to tell you this way, please don’t be too upset.

Grandma Jean passed last night, on Christmas Eve. 

It was peaceful. 

She thought of your grandpa. 

She thought of you. 

Don’t disappear on the Weasley’s. 

Stay where you are. 

We’re fine. 

You have Ron and Harry. 

We love you. 

See you soon. 

He let the parchment flutter to the ground. He hadn’t had it in him to read the entirety of it, but what he read was enough. 

The phrases like ‘don’t disappear’, ‘stay where you are’, and ‘see you soon’ reverberated around in his head. 

“Ronnie, what is it?” Bill probed gently from his spot next to Fleur. 

He swallowed the bile in his throat, “her grandmother, she passed. She’s gone.” A few gasps filled the room, “their daughter, she’s, she’s gone too. How are we gonna tell them? How am I gonna tell them? It’s all my fault.” 

Despite not knowing what entailed, no one, besides Ron himself, blamed him for what happened. 

“Ron,” his mother swiftly budged in, ready to console her son. 

However, he was having none of it, he didn’t deserve it, “her parents they don’t know about any of this.” 

Late at night in fifth year, he found Hermione in the common room. She was working mercilessly over a piece of parchment as tears pooled on the pages. When he asked what was wrong, she finally let it out and admitted she’d been living a lie. Telling her parents Hogwarts was lovely and the only thing on her mind were exams. No dark lord, no death eaters. 

For a brief moment, he wondered if Harry knew too. 

“Not about You-Know-Who, not about Cedric, the department of mysteries, not even about prejudices against Muggleborns.” He admitted to everyone in the room. 

And by the look on Harry’s face, this was news to him. 

“Did you know?” Ginny dared to ask Harry. 

At this, the chosen one shook his head. Suddenly feeling guilty, Harry had been wallowing so much in his own problems he failed to be there for Hermione, who was fiercely loyal to him. 

“Why would she lie about that?” Fleur butted in, not judgmental, but just trying to understand. 

“She was scared they’d take her out of Hogwarts.” He told everyone, Tonks nods  in understanding, her dad being a Muggle. 

“Because of me.” Harry said without missing a beat. 

“No,” Ron protested. 

“Yes, she wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me. She wouldn’t be gone, she wouldn’t be lying to her parents.” He stated, sure that was the case. 

“You’d also be dead without her.” His best friend stated with conviction. Ron was already lost in self wallowing, the last thing he needed was for Harry to drown in it too. “We both would be.” He couldn’t help but add, despite the situation being so close to home. 

“Ronnie,” Fred’s voice, sounding the most gentle he’s ever heard, broke through the air, “can you tell us what happened? Please.” He pleaded. After all, everyone here cared for Hermione too. 

A few times Ron opened and closed his mouth, not really knowing what to say. After fumbling like a fish for two minutes, he settled for something, “I’m not-“ I’m not strong enough. 

But, the words never came, a crack sounded outside, and for a sickening moment he imagined Bellatrix Lestrange to waltz through the door. 

Instead, he was meant by his fathers shouts, “it’s Dumbledore!” He exclaimed, opening the back door. 

In a moment's notice the Headmaster's looming six foot frame is towering in his doorway and at the sight, Ron knows somewhere within him he has to manage to be strong enough. 

“Albus.” Molly said, relieved at the sight of him, “we’re sorry to do this to you on Christmas and all.” She stood wiping at her eyes. 

The old man didn’t have the heart to tell everyone here that Christmas had long gone, it was nearing two in the morning. 

“Of course Molly. I’ve had Remus go collect Alastor and Kingsley. Nymphadora, do you mind getting Minerva for me?” He asked kindly, annoyingly calm if you ask Ron. 

Dumbledore, being one of the only people to get away with calling her that, Tonks just nodded to him as she stalked out to the backyard. 

Ron gulps, it’s just now hitting him how serious this all is. The Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful Wizard living, someone with their own bloody chocolate frog card is in his living room. But there’s no time to marvel at it or even feel shocked, because he knows why he’s here. 

He’s here because Hermione’s gone. 

Next, the white haired man found a spot on the sofa and surprisingly plopped down. “Now, I need to know everything if I am to help.” 

Ron’s still reeling from telling Harry and because of the owl from Hermione’s parents. And by the looks of it, Harry’s feeling the same as he stands stock still and paler than usual. 

Thankfully, Bill notices the boys expression and takes over as much as he can, “it all started we were all in here, opening gifts, and then,” 

“I was in the garden, we-,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “we were in the garden.” Ron almost whispers. 

A little awkwardly, unsure what to say, Bill just nods and goes on, “we were opening gifts and we heard a crack, apparition.” Dumbledore nods at this. 

“Two cracks.” Charlie interrupts, earning a slanted look from Bill. 

Doing his best to not get frustrated by the multitude of people butting in, he ignores it. “So we went outside. We heard her first...” he trailed, not wanting to say it. 

“It is crucial you tell me everything that happened, everything that was said.” Dumbledore reminded at his uncertainty. 

“Bellatrix,” Harry’s shaky voice said, “she was saying how she killed Sirius.” 

Everyone, Bill included, waits for Harry to continue the story on, but instead the dark haired boy offers the eldest Weasley a nod. 

“Greyback was with her too.” Bill added, “She didn’t say much honestly, nothing out of the ordinary. Recognized the lot of us, Tonks, Lupin, Harry, called us blood traitors, remembered Hermione from the ministry.” At the mention of her name the room tensed, “then she casted incendio around the Burrow and skipped away, literally.” 

Neither Ron or Harry made a move to fill in the gaps. 

Bill sighed, “Harry, he ran after her, Hermione followed, so did Ronnie. By the time they were all gone, the fire, it blocked the path.” 

At the admission, the chosen one's eyes bulged, “it’s all my fault. She ran after me.”

“Harry,” Ron tried weakly. 

Sensing the lack of energy, Fred surprisingly jumped in, “if one of you went all three one of you would’ve. You know that just as well as I do.”

“Mr.Weasley is correct, now I know this may be difficult but I’m going to need one of you to please tell me what occurred. This is the only way I’m able to help your friend.” The old man eyed Ron and Harry who had found themselves standing side by side against the window. 

“I can’t say much, I was running before I stunned Greyback. Hermione and Ron were with them longer.” Harry was able to speak, mustering any courage he had left. 

Ron stared blankly at his headmaster. 

“Ron.” His mother said gently, “please.” She sounded like she was crying. 

Sucking in a shaky breath, he hoped to some higher power this would be the last time he ever told this story. He knew he would be reliving it for the rest of his nights,  whenever he fell asleep. 

“I didn’t hear Bellatrix say much, not the first time at least,” this made the room shudder, “all I could see was her wand pressed to Hermione’s throat, Greyback was eying her like a meal, so I tried to disarm her.” His voice dropped, “it didn’t do anything, I couldn’t use any spells, I couldn’t hurt Hermione.” Ron’s eyes grew glassy, “then Harry came.” 

Seeing Ron needed a minute, the dark haired boy jumped in, “I stunned Greyback. He fell to the ground. It surprised Bellatrix, Hermione was able to get away. Next thing I knew, I was running.” His eyes flicked back to blue ones. 

“So were Hermione and I. She started going-going,” he’s stuttering, “going on about how Lestrange told her  that You-Know-Who, he’s been talking about her.” 

Small gasps filled the room, even Dumbledore’s eyes grew wide, “about Miss Granger?” 

Ron nodded stiffly, “she was certain they wouldn’t kill her, said they needed her for-for something. Bellatrix, she said she wasn’t here for Harry.” 

It was Harry’s turn for answers. His eyes pleaded with Dumbledore for any piece of wisdom, practically begging to know what game they were playing at. However, for once, the old man didn’t seem to know any answers now, they laid with Ron. 

The youngest Weasley brother sensed his responsibility and thought of Hermione, using her to be strong. 

“We stopped by the old oak tree to catch our breaths, we knew we had to go after Harry, but before we could we heard the two of them. She thought we were Harry, when she said as much, Greyback asked why it had mattered, they were on strict orders not to kill him.” 

“Why?” Harry’s voice broke, he needed to know. Bellatrix had ample opportunities to end it but she hadn’t. 

Dumbledore shook his head, “I can’t say for certain Harry. It sounds as if Voldemort,” the Weasley family shivered at the name, “wants you for himself. Tom has always been one for theatrics, anything for an act of defiance. What I can’t understand is why they didn’t attempt to apparate you.” He voiced aloud. 

Slowly, the Boy-Who-Lived nodded in acknowledgment, but certainly not in understanding. 

“What happened next Ron?” The man asked softly. 

He cleared his throat nervously, “Bellatrix, she said if she found me, that she’d-she’d kill me.” Nearby, Molly moaned in pain, falling into Ginny, “that I was just another blood traitor. But for Hermione, she said-” he shut his eyes tightly, “said she’d be a perfect gift for him.” 

They all knew who ‘he’ was. Fleur was trembling as the story continued, Ginny had the urge to clamp her hands over her ears, Charlie was fully engaged, and the twins nervously eyed the floor. 

“Said she was the brilliant one and all that, that she must know something and they’d get it out of her.” He released a breath, “Merlin, she’s so stupid, so stupid.” He began to cry. 

“Ron, you need to tell them. For her.” Harry reminded in an equally as broken whisper, clapping a hand on his shoulder to give him strength. 

“She knew they wanted to kill me and she knew they didn’t wanna kill her...” he trailed, wiping at his eyes. 

“No.” Fred said aloud, before he could help it, dropping his head in his hands, putting together what happened. 

“She casted the stunning spell on me and a disillusionment charm, there was a crack and she was gone.” Ron said it rushed, sloppily, unable to even get through it before collapsing against the wall. 

Molly stood up, sat down and embraced her son.  

“Did Bellatrix perform any spells or curses on Hermione?” Dumbledore asked the sobbing boy. 

“Albus.” Missus Weasley scolded. 

Ron shook his head numbly, “expelliarmus, that was it.” 

The old man paced around the room before directing his attention to Harry and Ron, the latter now calming in his mother’s embrace. 

“Did she know something?” He asked flustered. Harry’s never heard the professor sound so rushed, so panicked. It worried him to the core. 

Frantically, Potter shook his head, “I don't know, maybe, no? I don't know.” He’s panicking now too. 

The white haired man turns his attention to Ron, “she wouldn’t have to me anything, she wouldn’t.” It broke his heart even more, it’s just now hitting him that Hermione’s gone and he can’t remember the last thing he said to her. Just what he wanted to say. 

“Has she been fixated on anything? Talking, asking, reading?” He lists off, Harry hasn’t heard him use this tone since his name was pulled from the goblet of fire. 

The boys look at each other and think, but nothing comes up, they can’t even see straight. 

“That book.” Ginny states in a crisp voice, “she’s been reading the same book for weeks. Writing notes on it.” 

He rounded to the young girl, “what book?” 

Ginny shook her head unknowingly, “I don’t know. She puts it away whenever anyone comes around.” Her voice is uneven, but it’s evident she wants to help anyway she can. 

“The cover is black, there’s gold trim. There’s no title, very old looking.” Fleur speaks for the first time, recalling their time under the tree. 

“Do you know where it is?” He seemed determined to find it, Harry sensed realization in his eyes. 

Fleur shook her infadictly, Ginny shrugged, “her trunk?” She suggested. 

“Please take me there.” He said to no one in particular. 

Over his large frame, Ginny’s eyes found Harry’s, she nodded at him, signaling it was his duty. 

“Follow me.” Harry stood from the floor and rushed to the steps. 

Dumbledore’s robes flew behind him as the old man climbed the steps with fervor. When he reached Hermione’s trunk, he flung it open unceremoniously and ripped through its contents like a mad man. 

Harry had half the heart to scold him and be more gentle with her things. And he was just about to say as much, until the headmaster stopped moving. 

In his old, shaking hands, was that old thing that had been attached to Hermione for weeks. 

Harry had asked her about it a few times, she just said it was for ‘light reading’ and brushed him off. He chose not to mention it, reading was ordinary for her. 

Next, a brown journal was being pried open by Dumbledore. By the looks of it, the pages were spelled as he whispered a counter incantation to it as the witches neat scrawl filled the pages. 

“Hey, it’s just her diary! That’s private.” He scolded. 

And for the first time since they got up here, Dumbledore turned to him, eyes wide as saucers. 

“This is no diary Harry.”

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 7

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

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This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT DAY

AURORA BASIN

Hauling the last of their supplies onto the back of the wagon, Arthur lifted up the rear guard and secured them in place, making sure that the few things they had left wouldn’t get lost during the long trek ahead of them.

For the time being, their plan was to head south to Manzanita Post and replace any of the resources that were destroyed, as well as trade for some new weapons with the people there. Afterwards, they’d travel north to Strawberry and search for any tips that could lead them to their next big score.

Arthur didn’t know what could possibly be worth stealing in that small, little settlement, but it wasn’t as if their gang had much of a choice in the matter. Whoever attacked their camp left them with next to nothing, and now, the only money they had left was from the bank job. 

If they didn’t find something or someone to rob soon, they’d be at the end of their rope. 

And there was no telling what Dutch would do then.

“Arthur!” Someone exclaimed, causing the man to look over his shoulder. It was Joe, coming up to see him.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, moving onto the horses. 

Joe stepped next to the mounts, resting a hand on one of the hitching posts.

“I wanted to thank you.” He said.

“Thank me?” Arthur straightened his mount’s saddle, giving it a firm tug. “For what?”

“For savin’ my ass yesterday. Dutch nearly blew my brains out after what happened with Cleet. If you hadn’t intervened, I’d be dead in the ground by now. I owe you one.”

Despite the friendly sentiment, Arthur didn’t return Joe’s appreciative tone.

“Yeah, well... if it turns out you were the traitor after all,” he backed up from the horses, looking Joe in the eye, “...you’ll wish I let Dutch shoot you back there.”

Joe concealed his fear with a subtle gulp. “Of course. I understand. But, I was wondering something else...”

Arthur raised a brow. “...What?”

“Well... was anyone missing from the bank robbery?”

“Missing?” He thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Everyone we planned to bring showed up. Why?”

“Because if everyone was accounted for, then it makes no sense to say that one of our own people sabotaged the supplies.”

Arthur gave him a firm reminder. “...Assuming you weren’t the rat, of course.”

Joe nodded. “Of course. But Cleet obviously didn’t do anything, and if everyone was present at the robbery, then how the hell is it possible that one of us poisoned the food? We’re a tough gang, but even we can’t be in two places at once.”

Arthur shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe they poisoned it before we left.”

“I’m pretty sure someone would’ve seen that,” the other man argued. “And besides, I think everyone ate in the morning. If the food was already poisoned, y’all would’ve died long before the Pinkertons cornered you.”

The older man sighed, unable to dispute Joe’s point.

“I’ll admit...” he said reluctantly, “it don’t make much sense when you put it that way. Fine. What d’you think then, Joe? If it weren’t one of us that did it, then who?”

Joe checked their surroundings for a second, making sure nobody else was eavesdropping.

“Well, just based on the timing of Cleet’s death, I’d say the food was poisoned while y’all was at the bank. This means that whoever destroyed the supplies knew our schedule. They knew when we’d be the most vulnerable. And most importantly, they knew the layout of the land. Otherwise, there ain’t no way they’d be able to sneak in so easily.”

Arthur placed a hand on his hip. “So, what’re you saying, exactly?”

“I don’t think it was one of us that poisoned the food,” Joe stated. “However, I do think it’s one of us that’s helpin’ them.” 

The older man took on a more serious tone. “...And who d’you think that is?”

Joe shook his head in uncertainty. “Whoever has the most to gain.”

Arthur fell silent for a moment, taking in everything Joe just said. 

Despite his wariness about the whole situation, he couldn’t deny that the man raised a few good points. 

As far as Arthur could recall, nobody was absent from the bank robbery, and there were no disappearances along the way either. So it didn’t make sense to say that the culprit was one of them. 

And on top of all that, Arthur highly doubted that whoever poisoned the food would’ve stuck around afterwards. It was more likely that they bolted once the job was done, and hoped that the gang would take it out on somebody else.

Arthur had no idea if it was bounty hunters, or Skinner Brothers, or even the goddamned Pinkertons who were responsible for this, but now that he really thought about it... he was inclined to agree with Joe.

There was no way it could’ve been one of their own men that caused the damage, but it was definitely a Van der Linde that talked.

“Well...” Arthur said lowly, not wanting to reveal too many of his thoughts, “I still dunno what the hell is goin’ on here, but... you might be right. I just don’t understand why anyone would do this. Especially now, of all times.”

Joe shared Arthur’s confusion. “It doesn’t make sense to me either, but if we wanna survive this year, we better find the rat soon. I don’t like the idea of wanderin’ into all that civilization with a traitor among us.”

“Agreed. Lemme know if you see anything strange. Dutch is paranoid enough as it is. We don’t need him worryin’ about mutiny too.”

Joe nodded, taking his leave. “Will do.”

Returning to his business, Arthur finished up preparing the horses as they whinnied in anticipation and swayed their heads excitedly, clearly eager to get out of these treacherous woods. 

It wouldn’t be long now before the Pinkertons finally closed in on their location, and if Arthur’s instincts were correct, then Dutch’s plan to get out of Tall Trees wouldn’t go nearly as well as he expected.

There were just too many unknowns. Too many threats lurking in the shadows. For all they knew, the same person who poisoned their food could’ve been watching them as they spoke. 

Arthur just hoped that the limitations of civilization would slow them down a bit. Whoever was attacking them didn’t seem to be working with the law -- Pinkertons usually captured their targets alive -- and he doubted that the Skinner Brothers would be so covert with their tactics either.

No... he had a feeling that this was something different. Something more personal. The saboteur clearly had some sort of history with the Van der Linde gang that was motivating these attacks, and in Arthur’s eyes, it almost felt like they were trying to take them out before anyone else could.

He just didn’t know why.

“Arthur!” Dutch suddenly called from a distance, sauntering up to the wagons. “You ready to go?”

Arthur patted his horse on the neck, giving Dutch a firm nod. “Ready when you are. But what about the route we’re plannin’ to take? Everything look okay so far?”

Dutch coughed a few times, not even bothering to hide the weary look on his face. “You’re not gonna believe it. I sent Bill to scout the path ahead earlier, and he tells me one of the bridges we was gonna cross has been destroyed.”

The other man paused. "The hell? But everything was fine yesterday. How did it get destroyed overnight?”

Dutch was at a loss for words. “I have no idea. But this means we’re gonna have to take a detour. We’ll go along the central road to Manzanita Post instead, then head up north once we got the supplies we need.”

Arthur didn’t like the sound of that at all. “North? That’s where most of the Skinner Brother camps are, Dutch.”

“I know, son. But the only alternative route would take us so far south that the Pinkertons would most likely surround us before we even got near the state border. You know how big the Montana River is. They’d be able to pick us off there no problem. I’d rather deal with a few crazies than get captured by the law.”

Arthur let out a deep sigh, unable to think of any other solutions. “...Alright. If that’s the only choice we’ve got.”

Dutch put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a sincere gaze. “Thank you for trustin’ me, Arthur. We’ll get through this. Now, c’mon. Strawberry awaits.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

TALL TREES

Traversing the uneven terrain of the forest as the local wildlife scurried around them, the Van der Linde gang pushed through the silent woods as they kept their eye on the seemingly unreachable horizon, doing their best to remain hopeful.

Thanks to the collapsed bridge Bill reported earlier, they had been forced into the area of Tall Trees that was most notorious for disappearances, as well as having an alarming amount of Skinner Brother activity.

There wasn’t a single inch of this forest that felt safe to them, and with the constant threat of being attacked clawing at their minds, it was needless to say that the gang felt somewhat on edge.

It was only a matter of time until they snapped.

“How’s it lookin’ back there?” Dutch called out to the wagons behind him. “Everything seem to be in order?”

Shay gestured to the path beneath them. “Yeah, but I’ve noticed a lotta tracks on these roads, Dutch. Looks like someone’s been ridin’ around all over this place.”

Dutch didn’t seem too bothered by the observation. “Probably just Pinkertons searching for us. You see any sign of the bastards yet?”

“No, but we should be careful. These tracks look recent. I reckon whoever left ‘em is still roaming around here somewhere. They might not be friendly.”

Arthur sighed, lightly whipping the reins as Dutch sat beside him.

“Great. Another thing to worry about. You think it could be Skinner Brothers?”

The older man shrugged. “Who knows. There are plenty o’ things that could kill you in Tall Trees. If we’re lucky, it’ll just be a group of bandits targeting these roads.”

“Let’s hope so. I’d take a good, honest holdup over dealin’ with the law any day.”

Dutch chuckled. “Oh, absolutely. I didn’t think we’d ever see Agent Ross again -- not after everything that happened with Milton -- and yet, here he is. More despicable than ever.”

Arthur thought back to the robbery. “Did you see who his new partner was?”

He shook his head. “No, but he looked like a young man to me. Not as weathered as Milton or Ross. He seemed like the type of feller who would lack experience, but make up for it in brawn.” Dutch smirked humorously. “Kinda reminds me of you, all them years ago.”

Arthur laughed softly at that. “Not anymore, though?”

Dutch let out a tired breath. “Oh, I’m afraid not, son. We’re still strong, mind you... but even we ain’t as spry as we used to be. Time will do that to you.”

The younger man’s tone sunk a little. “...And, erm... how’s your health doing? You been feelin’ alright recently?”

Dutch cleared his throat. “About as well as you can expect at my age. I ain’t got long left in this world -- we both know that -- but I don’t want none of you cryin’ over me. I’m not dead yet. Let’s just focus on headin’ east and finding a suitable doctor who can treat me. Then we can start worrying about my health.”

Arthur decided to drop it for now. “Alright. Just... lemme know if you notice anything strange. I don’t wanna wait till it’s too late.”

The other man chuckled. “Worrying about your old man, are we, Mr. Morgan? Well, ain’t that just sweet.”

Bringing their discussion to an end, Dutch’s attention was suddenly diverted from Arthur when Micah shouted at him from behind, pointing out a peculiar obstacle blocking their path.

“Hey, cowpokes! I think I see somethin’ on the road!”

Squinting his eyes, Dutch peered into the distance and tried to make out the large object barricading the road, only to freeze in shock when he realized it was a toppled stagecoach decorated with corpses.

There were no signs of the culprit as far as Dutch could see, but judging by the freshness of the bodies and the smoke rising from the coach, he assumed they were killed not too long ago.

“...Ah, shit.” He murmured to himself, taking in the morbid scene. “This probably just happened. Poor bastards. Who d’you think did this?”

An alarm went off in Arthur’s head. “Well, I dunno who did it, but I sure as hell recognize those bodies. Is it just me, or do they look like Skinner Brothers?”

Dutch examined their mottled skin and diseased faces, unable to deny the resemblance. 

“No, it ain’t just you...” He replied grimly. “But who in their right mind would attack Skinner Brothers? And in broad daylight? Surely, that would bring nothing good.”

Arthur was at a loss. “It’s beyond me. But... somethin’ don’t feel right about this.”

Dutch raised a brow. “What d’you mean?”

“Think about it. Why the hell would you attack someone as crazy as the Skinner Brothers unless you were tryin’ to get attention? And to leave their bodies lying out in the open, right in the middle of the road...” Arthur put a hand on his revolver. “...I think someone wanted us to see this.”

A sense of dread filled the other man’s eyes. “Who?”

“No idea.” Arthur climbed down from the wagon, readying his gun. “But I’m gonna find out. Wait here.”

“Shay!” Dutch called, signaling the man to follow Arthur. “Go with him, will you? Let us know if you find anything.”

Carefully approaching the grotesque scene, Arthur and Shay quickly started to sift through the carnage that was left behind as they searched around for clues, curious to see who on Earth could’ve caused such a mess.

The stagecoach didn’t appear to belong to the Skinner Brothers -- the postal label on the side was enough to confirm that -- but its lockbox was full of cash and food instead of mail.

Right off the bat, Arthur assumed the Skinner Brothers must’ve stolen the coach and been using it to transport any valuables they looted, but he found it odd that whoever attacked them didn’t take any of it for themselves. 

It just made him wonder even more what the motivation behind this killing was, and for some unknown reason, part of him began to suspect that the person responsible for this also poisoned their food. 

He just couldn’t figure out what the correlation was.

“Hey, Shay,” Arthur said, “you see anything--”

Barely giving them any time to react, a lone bullet suddenly zipped past them and soared straight into a stick of dynamite that had been strapped to a nearby tree, causing it to explode with a bang as the impact sent Arthur and Shay flying backwards.

Meanwhile, the tree’s trunk snapped into two as the upper half collapsed onto the road, separating Arthur and Shay from the rest of the gang.

“Holy shit!” Mackintosh exclaimed, stumbling to his feet. “What the hell is this?!”

Arthur took cover behind the stagecoach, holding his revolver close. “No idea!”

“Hey!” Dutch yelled from the other side. “You boys still alive?”

“...For now!” Arthur answered. “But we can’t stay here! Y’all focus on findin’ another way around! We’ll catch up to you later!”

“But--”

Another bullet planted itself into the ground next to Arthur’s feet, prompting him to become even more frantic.

“--Just go!”

Staying behind while the gang fled in search of a detour, Arthur and Shay remained huddled up by the stagecoach as their pursuer continued to shower them with bullets, scraping off splinters of wood from the vehicle with every shot.

They couldn’t see who was attacking them or where they were, but just based on the direction of the trajectory, Arthur guessed they were firing at them from within the woods.

“Can you see them?!” Shay shouted over all the commotion, peeking around the edge.

“No! But I think they’re using the trees as cover! Keep shootin’ at the woods! I’m gonna try to get this stagecoach back on its wheels!”

Shay threw a bewildered look at him. “What? Why?”

“Because if we can get this thing movin’ again, then we can use it as cover while we make our way down the road. Now help me lift it up!”

“I thought you wanted me to shoot at them!”

Arthur stuttered. “I-- oh, for Chrissake, just lift it!”

Giving the coach a firm heave, the two of them worked together to bring it back to a standing position as their attacker carried on with the assault, trying fervently to take them out.

Arthur didn’t know why, but he got the impression that the assailant was mainly after him. All of their bullets seemed to be aimed in his general direction more so than Shay’s, and the fact that they separated him from the rest of the gang only made him wonder if they were a long-lost enemy he had forgotten.

“Jesus Christ...” He muttered through gritted teeth. He certainly hoped it wasn’t anyone who used to run with the Van der Lindes. Arthur already had a hard enough time when it came to fighting rival gangs or enemies that they encountered on the road, but if this was someone he knew from before... he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to kill them.

“Almost got it...!” Shay groaned in a strained voice, his arms now starting to quiver from the coach’s weight.

Finally tilting the sturdy vehicle back onto its wheels, Arthur hurriedly yanked one of the doors open and slammed his body against it, pushing the coach forward while Shay fired back at their attacker.

Judging by the way the foliage twitched with the pursuer’s movements, Arthur assumed they were venturing further down the path in an attempt to stop them and probably setting up some other kind of trap.

He had no idea if they had a second stack of dynamite lying around somewhere, or if they were going after the rest of the gang, but at the moment, Arthur only prayed he’d live long enough to find out.

“Shit!” Shay shouted as a bullet darted through one of the coach’s windows. “This bastard’s got good aim!”

Arthur pressed harder against the door. “Well, make sure yours is better!”

Forcing the stagecoach up a steep hill, Arthur mustered as much strength as he possibly could and flattened his palms on the door’s surface, trying to ignore the ache that was now spreading in his arms.

The vehicle budged a little bit, but even with all his effort, it wasn’t nearly enough to get the damned thing over the hill. He’d need help.

“Shay!” Arthur grunted out. “Lend me a hand here!”

Putting his gun down for a moment, Shay jogged over to Arthur’s position and helped the man push the stagecoach up the sharp incline, both of them now battling against its unforgiving weight.

With their strength put together, the coach finally started ascending the hill’s abrupt angle and continued to slide along the path, giving them some much-needed cover from the never-ending storm of gunshots.

“You got it?” Arthur checked, his boots now digging into the ground.

Shay gave the vehicle another shove, clearly struggling with it. “I... I think so...!”

Before anymore progress could be made however, another bullet suddenly hit the side Shay’s leg and sent him tumbling to the ground, causing him to cry out in pain as the stagecoach began to roll backwards.

“Goddammit...!” Arthur exclaimed once he realized the vehicle was headed straight for him. 

He tried to leap out of the way of the oncoming stagecoach and dove to the side of the road, but was ultimately rammed directly in the ribs before being thrown into the dirt.

He could hardly breathe. It felt like his heart had just been knocked out of his chest, and the whole world around him looked like it was going black.

He desperately gasped for air and crawled through the slick mud, unable to even see where his gun had dropped.

The only thing he could hear at the moment was his own hammering heartbeat and the feeble croaks that escaped from his battered lungs, accompanied by the muffled sounds of gunfire and shouting.

“...Shay...!” He wheezed, sluggishly rising from the ground. “...Shay...! Where... are you...?”

Scanning his surroundings, Arthur gazed further down the road and managed to spot Mackintosh himself at the top of the hill, scrambling around in panic due to the new wound in his leg. What really caught Arthur’s attention, though... was the fact that he was no longer alone.

Yanking out his hunting knife, Shay frantically tried to get away from the stranger and wildly swung the weapon a few times, only to receive a fist to the face when the assailant grabbed his arm.

The sheer force of the attack sent him reeling back and caused a fresh stream of blood to flow from his nostril, staining his lips and teeth red.

It shocked Mackintosh how strong his opponent was, considering their seemingly young age, but it was more than evident to him now that this man was no stranger to these types of affairs.

There was an undeniable ferocity in the nature of his attacks, and just based on the pure sense of hatred that illuminated from the man’s glare, Shay guessed this was an enemy he had made in the past.

He just couldn’t figure out who he was.

Lunging at the young man again, Shay limped towards the attacker and sliced his knife downwards, cutting a gash in the stranger’s coat but not actually reaching his skin.

He lost balance due to the bullet now buried in his leg and plunged to the ground beside the young man, allowing his opponent to turn the tide of the fight.

Taking out his own knife, the stranger grabbed Shay by the collar and hauled him to his feet, making sure he couldn’t escape. Afterwards, he took hold of Shay’s abdomen and thrust the blade forward, jabbing the weapon deep into his gut.

“...Mackintosh...!” Arthur exclaimed upon witnessing the attack. 

He tore himself away from the ground and weakly approached the violent scene, hoping to help Shay even though he knew it was too late.

The man was already bleeding profusely from the stomach and had hardly any color left in his skin, but even then, it was obvious that the young man wasn’t done with him yet.

Ripping the blade out of Shay’s stomach, he slammed the man against a nearby tree and held him in place, looking directly into his tormented eyes.

There was a sense of despair engraved in the young man’s expression, and the longer Shay studied his oddly familiar features, the more he began to recognize him.

“...Shay. Mackintosh.” The stranger growled slowly, his tone sharp with anguish. “I finally have you. After fifteen, goddamned years... I finally have you.

Shay stared at the young man in fear, unsure of whether or not he was identifying him correctly.

“Who... are you?” He breathed out, still exhausted from the fight. “Why are you... tryin’ to kill me...?”

The stranger gave him a firm shake, his grip growing even tighter.

“Look at me,” he urged. “You know me, Shay. Far better than you may think.”

Taking a minute to sift through his memories, Shay practically watched his whole life flash before his eyes as he thought back to where he was fifteen years ago, trying to reshape the world around him.

At first, nothing immediate came to mind, but upon peering deeper into the young man’s sorrowful gaze, a specific memory suddenly jumped out at Shay, and he felt his entire body freeze.

He remembered three other men. Three other outlaws.

Charles Baumann, Thaddeus Blackmore, and Eli Whitley.

They robbed a cabin. Killed the owner too. She was a young woman, hardly into her twenties.

And worst of all, Shay remembered she had a son. A boy of only six years. He witnessed the whole murder, and ended up being taken in by them due to Whitley’s insistence.

But Shay never watched him grow up. He abandoned the small gang not too long after they killed the boy’s mother. The guilt would’ve destroyed him otherwise.

Now, though, everything made sense to him. The Pinkerton ambush, the poisoning of the food, the sabotage of the supplies... it was all linked to him. It was all because of what he did fifteen years ago.

This young man was that same little boy, and he had come for revenge.

“...Isaac Morgan.” Shay said plainly, finally understanding who he was. “It’s you. You’re still alive... after all this time.”

Isaac clenched his jaw, attempting to hide the tears that glossed over his eyes.

“I couldn’t die.” He replied, his voice trembling slightly. “Not without killin’ you first. You and your men... you took everything from me. You took Eliza from me.”

Shay closed his eyes in remorse, not even bothering to bargain with the boy.

“...I know, Isaac.” He said gently. “I know what we did was wrong. That’s why I left. Eli, too.” 

A morbid thought crossed Shay’s mind. “...Where is Eli, anyway? Are you lookin’ for him as well? Or have you found him already?”

Isaac nodded. “He’s dead, Shay. Him and the others. You’re the last one.”

Mackintosh wasn’t surprised. “...I thought so.”

Interrupting their exchange, a soft rustle suddenly emitted from behind Isaac’s back and caused him to whip around in curiosity, leading the young man to find himself face-to-face with a new stranger.

Isaac recognized the man as the same gang member Shay was riding with earlier, but contrary to what he expected, the man didn’t appear to be hostile. Instead, he approached the two of them peacefully, and kept his gun in his holster.

Still, Isaac wasn’t willing to take any chances and immediately pulled Shay into his grasp, holding the knife up to his throat.

“Back off!” He warned. “I will kill him!”

The other man raised his hands in a diplomatic manner, attempting to calm the boy down.

“...Easy, Isaac,” he soothed. “It’s okay. Just take it easy.”

The boy paused abruptly, unsure of how to react. “What? How d’you... how d’you know my name? Who are you?”

The man steadily approached him, keeping his hands in the air. 

“I heard your conversation with Mackintosh,” he explained. “You... you lost your mother when you was a boy? Is that right?”

That only confused Isaac even more. “How the hell do you know Eliza was my mother? Why do you even care? Answer my question! Who are you?” He pressed the knife harder into Shay’s throat.

The man stopped in his tracks, not wanting to provoke the boy any further. Instead, he decided that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario and simply reached upwards to remove his hat, unveiling the familiar face that hid underneath.

He couldn’t believe it. Mere moments ago, Arthur was dragging himself through the mud, doing anything he could to survive. He genuinely thought today would be the day he died, but now... he was talking to someone who he never thought he’d see again.

He didn’t know if the boy would remember him, or if he would even still love him after all those years of being separated, but one thing was for certain -- Isaac was Arthur’s son.

And against all odds, he was still alive.

“...It’s me.” Arthur revealed, doing his best to keep himself together. “I’m your dad.”

[emily-strange]

Second Chances

Everyone’s responses have been so encouraging! Thank you so much :)

In this chapter I’ve tried switching between Reader and John’s POV. Please let me know if it doesn’t make sense or is hard to follow. I’ve tried to work it into the story without making it an obvious change in character but let me know!

Tagging @porkchop-ao3 @redeadepression @lucacangettathisasss @janewilson-rdo @gangofgunslingers and @fangirl-ramblings who asked but if you’d like me to stop let me know :)

For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!

Summary: You’re Sadie Adler’s 18 year old daughter who was visiting when the O’Driscoll’s attack. How will you cope with gang life and your increasing feelings for someone who, on the surface, isn’t up for grabs?

Pairing: John Marston x female reader

Warnings: Mild panic/anxiety attack.

Chapter 4

After your little talk with Tilly and Mary-Beth, you decided to check up on your mother. Miss Grimshaw was in a strangely happy mood (you put it down to being in the sun after the snow for so long) so she was alright with the women taking it a bit easier today; which no one was going to argue with.

You find your mother on the edge of camp sewing in the sun. That’s good you think. She’s keeping busy.

“Hi mama,” you greet before sitting next to her on the log “how’re you feeling?”

“Oh fine.” She says smiling, “How’re you baby?”

It’s so nice to see your mother smile again.

“Sore! I actually think washing clothes is harder than hunting” you laugh with her while trying to stretch out your back.

You look over the camp at everyone going about their day and you catch sight of Abigail making daisy chains with Jack. She’s sat on the ground, her skirt bunched up around her and you can tell how much fun they’re having.

“Remember when we used to make mud pies? And then one time I tricked papa into taking a bite?” you giggle to yourself at the memory. Your father was such a soft, sweet man. Your parents were the perfect pair in your eyes. You’re brought back to the present when you see your mom laughing and shaking her head.

“What!?” you ask incredulously and laugh when your mother snorts.

“Oh baby, you tricked no one” she laughed “Your daddy just wanted to see you smile.”

“No! You remember. It was dinner time. You asked me to set the table….and I served him the pie and he put salt on it before….” You stopped explaining your memory when it hit you, “Oh my God” you burst out into fits of laughter covering your face, “I was so gullible!”

Your mother elbows you gently in the side, “Oh hush, you were 9.”

You sit quietly groaning of very mild embarrassment and only show your face to the sun again once you hear your mother sniff, “I’m….I’m sorry mama. I know you don’t like to think about him.”

Your mother sighs and turns to you, “Oh baby. There won’t be a day that goes by I won’t think of your daddy.” She places her palm to your face and smiles sadly, her eyes wet with unshed tears and then you feel it. That prickle behind your eyes.

Not now, you think.

Not now.

You give your mother a small smile and nod before reaching up to squeeze the hand on your face. You clear your throat and manage to get out a strained, “I’ll be right back mama.”

She knows. Your mother always knows. So she doesn’t ask any questions when you practically sprint off into the trees.

You walk, walk, walk until you come to the familiar clearing.

You don’t quite make it to the little quiet spot before you breakdown into great heaving sobs. You find yourself panicking as you try to keep quiet and in turn start hiccupping. Not being able to catch a breath.

Suddenly a voice makes you jump and you turn to face its owner while shaking. Tears staining your red, blotchy face.

“Y/N?” John whispers quietly while emerging from the trees.

You lock eyes with him and try to wipe at your face. You know you look a mess.

“I…..I can’t…..it won’t……” you try to speak as you hiccup between sobbing and gasping for breath. You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, you just know that nothing’s coming out. You can feel your chest beginning to hurt from lack of oxygen and how much your nose is running, mixing with your tears.

John approaches you like one would a wild animal. He puts his palms up in front of him and slowly makes his way over to you, “Okay Y/N. I’m gonna need ya ta try ‘nd breathe.”

If you could roll your eyes right now, you would. But instead all you can do is wheeze and grasp at your chest. John seems to be able to read your look however and stops walking when he’s in front of you.

“Sorry, kinda dumb thin’ ta say right?” he quietly scoffs, “I’m gonna take yer hand okay?” he continues and slowly reaches for your shaky hand.

His warm, calloused hand gently takes one of yours off of your chest but he then hesitates before moving again, “If yer not….comfortable or summit….just squeeze ma hand okay?” John doesn’t wait for you to nod or anything, knowing you’re too deep into the panic attack to respond. He just hopes his words made their way past your stuttering cries.

Ever so slowly he raises your palm to his chest, flinching ever so slightly when he places it over his heart. He then gently takes your other hand, which has been scratching marks into your chest like you’re trying to claw the breath from your own body. With that hand he places your palm firmly against your own heart.

“Just….feel ma heart….feel the beats….try’ta focus on it.” John stutters awkwardly. You feel how his hands are kind of clammy, you can tell he's nervous. “Just try’ta match yer breathin’ ta mine.”

You focus on John, focus on his heart beat under your palm. The sound of his breathing and the feel of the soft hair on his chest. You were so close like this, just like when you cleaning up his face. Just like last time he closed his eyes and seemed to relish the warmth of you. When you involuntarily twitch because of your hiccups, you accidently dig your nails gently into John’s chest. His eyes snap open and his mouth drops into a silent gasp.

You go to pull your hand back as an apology but before you can, John grips your hand again and pushes it down a bit harder where it hovers on his chest. He nods and takes a deep breath, signalling for you to try and do the same.

Slowly, slowly, your breathing evens out and even though you’re still crying, you’re no longer struggling to breathe. You have no idea how long you’ve both been stood like this but the only sounds you hear are the birds and the wind in the trees.

“Yer okay.” John said quietly, “Yer okay.”

Without thinking you throw your arms around John’s neck and bury your face into his shoulder. You smell the tobacco of his cigarettes and the wood of the campfire.

For a moment John is stunned. His hands are squished between your bodies where he was holding them before and he shivers due to the contact. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this and for it to happen so suddenly…. it’s thrown him off. After a few more seconds of you crying into his shoulder, he extracts his arms from between you both and wraps them around your waist. He rubs soothing circles onto your back until your tears finally dry and you pull back, keeping your hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry John…I…don’t know what came over me.” You half laugh, fully retracting your arms. John does the same and you hug your arms around yourself. “Tha…thank you.” you stutter.

John clears his throat and takes a decent step back before answering, putting his hands on his hips to stop himself from reaching for you again.

“S’fine…..you okay?” he asks.

You sniff and rub your nose with your sleeve. You’re beyond caring about how you must look!

“Yeah. It kind of just….erupted” you laugh while dabbing at your face.

“Kinda happens that way don’t it.” John smiles kindly, “I saw ya running outta camp pretty quickly so figured I’d check here fer ya.”

You stop rubbing your eyes and look at him with a soft smile on your lips.

“You came out here to check on me?” you ask gently and instantly John’s face reddens.

John coughs again before answering, “I weren’t like, watchin’ you or nothin’….ya know I just saw you….umm……like I weren’t out here….stalkin’ ya” he laughs and you join him.

“I didn’t think you were John” you smile broadly, “It was really kind of you to….help me.”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, you have a thought, “Hey, how did you know how to….do that? You know, the heartbeat thing.”

John laughs humourlessly and stretches his hands out in front of him before making his way over to the large shaded tree which seems to be his favourite. However instead of sitting against it, he sits next to it and thumps the floor encouraging you to take a seat. You smile and stroll over to him, taking the place against the tree.

“Funny story really” he begins, “When I ferst join’d the gang, I used’ta have a lotta…nightmares. Like real bad ones. ‘N Arthur used ta do the same thing fer me, ta calm me down so he could sleep.”

You pause before answering.

“John….that’s not a very funny story!” you laugh and John’s face falls into an expression of acknowledgment.

“Yeah, I uh, guess it’s not.” He laughs with you until your sides hurt.

After you manage to calm down, again, you close your eyes and lean your head back against the tree trunk behind you.

“Can I ask what happened? You were jus’ talkin’ ta Sadie and then you were runnin’.” John asks while bringing his knees up for his arms to rest on.

You open your eyes again but keep looking forward towards the sunny sky, “We were talking about my father. Just a nice memory. I guess it was just a matter of time before I exploded.”

John just nods and finds himself watching your face for a split second too long to be considered polite. He notices how despite your swollen eye lids and blotchy complexion from the crying, your eyes themselves still seem stuck in your happy memory. Twinkling with the happiness you once had.

Slowly you meet his gaze and before John can look away, you reach out to gently touch his arm, making him keep eye contact.

“You know…..my pa….he wasn’t actually…..my father. I mean by blood.” You say once you manage to find the words. You pull your hand back but keep your eyes on John’s face. You can tell he’s listening intently. Despite how much Abigail shouts about how he doesn’t pay any attention, you know he hears more than they all think.

“My mother was….I guess, seduced? By a man.” You continue, “And like it happens, he didn’t stick around once she found out she was pregnant with me.”

“So when did she meet yer…..pa?” John questions.

“When I was 6. My mama’s always been a strong-willed woman. Not unlike Abigail in a way” you admit begrudgingly, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, “Her family wouldn’t take her back once they knew she was having me….but the people she worked for luckily kept her on. She tended to their ranch and went hunting with the other men around.”

“A female ranch-hand huh?” John laughs but you know he means it as a compliment.

It makes you smile.

“Yep. Like I said, strong-willed.” You answer, pausing to have a laugh with John before continuing, “I grew up on that ranch….it was wonderful. From what I remember.”

“I cn imagin’ growin’ up on a ranch would be” John smiles. He always loved working with horses and for a short time before the gang grew, that was something him and Arthur did to make some extra money. He wasn’t a fan of being fixed in one place but for a kid he had no doubt how fun it probably was.

“Then one day, the owners agreed to meet with some city folk who wanted to purchase a ready to go ranch. They wanted the quiet life and all that. Blah blah.” You scoff. “They brought a friend of theirs with them…..someone who wasn’t a stranger to cattle, horses and life on a farm.”

“Yer pa?” John smiles broadly and it makes you happy that he seems so invested in your story.

“Yep. My mama said she was ruthless with him.” You giggle, “Never one to go easy…..she said city folk had no business being ranchers but my pa gave as good as he got. See he’d worked on a farm for a while before moving to the city and he considered himself more than capable. So, my mama challenged him to a race on their best horses.”

“I’m guessing she won?” John asks rhetorically and you nod.

“She won. And he asked her to dinner. Before she could decline, I came back from town with the owners wife and gave my mama a shiny rock I’d found.”

“A rock” John chuckles while frowning and you gently smacked his uninjured leg.

“Hey! That was a really good rock!” you hiss, “Anyway. I gave her the rock and she introduced me…..mama says he was hooked straight away. Performed a crappy magic trick with a coin and insisted I came along to dinner. A picnic in the park……mama said as soon as she saw me on his shoulders, she was in love.”

You stop and break eye contact with John while you take a moment to truly remember the feeling of being on your father’s shoulders. You felt like nothing would ever, could ever, harm you. You’d give anything to feel that invincible again.

“Anyway….point I’m trying to make John….is that Jake Adler wasn’t my blood father…..but he was my pa. And I couldn’t have loved him more.” You finish welling up again and letting one stray tear fall.

You can see that John still doesn’t quite understand your point. You reach for his arm again and when you touch bare skin, his eyes fall to your fingers. Again, he shivers.

“Jack may not be yours by blood….but if you want….” You find yourself struggling around the words you feel like you should say but that part of you doesn’t want to utter, “…..if you want Abigail. It doesn’t have to matter.”

John looks at you for a few seconds before giving you a small smile and touching his hand gently to yours. For a moment you both look at your hands and how the rough pad of his thumb grazes back and forth over one of your knuckles.

“Thats’a nice story Y/N. Real nice….but I ain’t a father and….I ain’t a partner.” John says without looking up at you. Your eyes flick to his face and you feel yourself run cold. You don’t know why but you feel this intense disappointment wash over you. Not because he doesn’t want to be a father to Jack, but that he seems intent on not being with anyone seriously.

You can’t understand why you feel so sick.

You nod your head and move your hand away from his arm and fake the best smile you can when his head snaps up quickly, “That’s….that’s fine as well John. You don’t have to…”

You’re quickly interrupted by John, who’s face is pulled into a grimace of realisation, “To Abigail I mean!” He rushes out so quickly that he almost shouts it. Making you jump.

John clears his throat and scratches at the back of his head before scoffing, “Sorry…I just…I mean I don’t know if I ever want kids…but ya know I…do like women…I mean…I like havin’ women. Not women, women…..a woman….God damn.” John sighs loudly and puts his face in his hands while internally berating himself.

You can’t help but burst out laughing.

John slowly brings his head up from his hands and looks at you with intense mock offence, “Are ya laughin’ at me miss?”

You can’t help it, you snort.

“Oh my God” you groan while burying your own face in your hands. John explodes into laughter and you look up.

After locking eyes with the man next to you, you begin to laugh just as loudly.

After a few moments, you both quieten down and you hold your chest gasping for breath while John holds one of his scabs that’s been tugging too much.

“What I mean is, I don’t think I wanna be with Abigail. Not afta this…I mean we weren’t even that serious before Jack. Then I went away fer a year…”

“Went away?” you interrupt and he shakes his head.

“Not jail or nothin’….but I’ll tell you that story anotha time. Or ask Arthur he’d just LOVE to fill you in.” John hisses angrily. “But what I mean is. There ain’t nothin’…romantic…there anymore. Ya know?”

You can’t help the smile that breaches your face.

“I, uh, yeah I guess I understand what you’re saying.” You say nodding. You look up at the sky and see that time really has moved on since you got here.

“Look I best get back to my mom. I kind of just ran off there” you laugh. “Thank you so much John. It means more than you know that you came to find me.”

John doesn’t answer but the slight tip of his head and small smile says everything you need to know. He gets up and helps you stand by holding out his hand for you to take. Once you’re up John holds onto your hand just a little bit longer before letting go….

“Anytime.” He says in that gruff voice and you can’t help but wonder what that voice would be like whispering in your ear. Maybe late at night. When no one can see you.

You hold your arms out awkwardly in front of you just a little bit and ask quietly, “Can I?”

It takes a second for John to register what you’re asking but as soon as he does, he’s bringing you into his arms for another hug. Before he knows it, he’s taking in a long, deep breath. Filling his senses with the smell of you and only you.

He can’t help but think to himself, has hugging always been this nice?

Has he actually ever had a hug? Yeah, he must have done. Hosea, yeah Hosea used to hug him quite a bit. And he got a few after returning to camp from his year away.

But this? This feeling is something else entirely.

You wind your arms around Johns neck and this time place your face there as well. You feel him physically shudder and for a moment you worry that you’ve actually made him uncomfortable, like maybe he was just being polite by indulging you. But before you can make any move to pull away, his arms tighten around your back.

You’re shorter than John so you’re on your tiptoes but he’s able to keep you steady. You whisper another thank you into his neck and you swear you feel his hands clench into your back where they rest.

You reluctantly pull back and come face to face with John, who’s so damn close.

Panic suddenly engulfs you a little bit and you take a step back. Thankfully John doesn’t seem to notice your moment of worry.

“See you soon then I guess…” you laugh nervously and fiddle with your clothes.

“Um yeah, I uh, like to get out here around noon most days so if yer not out or….” John says quietly, gesturing around the area.

“Yeah I uh, I’m sometimes free around then…” you mention but then you suddenly get embarrassed that maybe you’ve misread his intent, “Oh or I mean I could come later on or earlier if….you like your time or….”

“No! No…I umm” John clears his throat yet again, like he’s trying to bring the right words to the surface, “It’s nice ta have company.”

You hold in your big smile by biting your lip.

“Okay then. Umm, so see ya John.” You say walking deep into the trees before allowing your grin to take over your features.

John turns to look over at the vast openness before him. He sighs but can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his still healing lips.

“Christ.” he whispers before making his own way back to camp.

John wanders into camp and spots you sitting once again with your mother. You look happy again and this makes him smile. Genuinely smile.

“Marston!” Arthur squawks at him as he approaches.

“Arthur” John answers through clenched teeth.

Arthur stops in front of him with his thumbs in the loops of his belt. Oozing cockiness that’d rival Micah’s, “Dutch wants you on guard duty t’night. Says it’s high-time you start pullin’ yer weight around here.” 

“Pullin’ my….? You all know I’s nearly eaten not too long ago right?” John asks angrily. His voice is so quiet as to not alert the others around him that it comes out as a sort of snide hiss.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Arthur says holding his hands up and backing away, “Or anyone fer tha’ matter. Don’t need another invalid round here.”

John bites his tongue and storms over to his tent. He needs a beer and a sleep before his shift. However after lifting the heavy canvas and letting it drop closed behind him, he realises that sleep may not be on the cards for him…..

“Hey John” Abigail drawls from his bed. Almost entirely naked. 

Once again he lets out in a whisper, “Christ.”

[inkribbon796]

Days of Childhood

~::~ 10 Years Ago ~::~

Summary: 5+1, Visitation Day. Yancy palling around with his family. All taking place within the same week.

A/N: Bim and Yan are currently 21, making Yancy and Kay 22, and Illinois and Arthur 23. Meaning that here they are 11, 12, and 13 respectively.

5. Arthur- Bugs Alive:

“Come on, hurry up,” Arthur called out, his notebook clutched to his chest as he ran off, Yancy was struggling to keep up with all the rocks and tree roots.

The two boys were running around the spooky woods surrounding the Manor. No wild animals, except for insects and rats, could be found. Normally people who entered the woods became lost and died. Dark took great pains to hide the skeletons that could be found within the unhallowed woods.

Yancy only caught up when the young Author had stopped at a fallen tree that was covered in mushrooms and other fungi, moss covering the rotting wood in sickly patches. He looked giddy and excited, holding a large jar along with his notebook.

In later retellings, Yancy would admit to this being a huge red flag.

“There you are slowpoke,” Arthur shoved the jar into Yancy’s hands. “I need some bugs so I can study them for my stories.”

Unsuspecting, Yancy smiled, “Can I look at them too?”

The young author shrugged, “Sure, whatever.”

“Did you hear?” Arthur started, smiling mischievously, cracking his notebook open. “Dark gave me a nickname, like the kind his network have.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to join,” Yancy reminded in confusion.

“Well I’ve got one, that means I’m better than Illy,” with a couple quick words, the entire tree trunk violently flipped over, exposing dozens of types of teaming insects out in the open. “No one else here has one but me.”

Yancy frowned at the snide look on his older adopted brother’s face, “Bim goes by Junior.”

“He doesn’t count,” Arthur snapped angrily, and ripped the jar away and started scooping up insects, uncaring if they crawled over his hands to get away from him. “Wil gave him that.

“So what’s your nickname then?” Yancy asked.

“Dark calls me “his little Author” neat huh?” Arthur smiled proudly as he screwed the cap on and smiled at the jar.

“Yeah,” Yancy leaned in to look at the bugs. “So where are you going to hide them? Dark’ll get mad if you bring them into the house.”

Arthur wrote another couple of words and his bat appeared at his feet, a smile on his face, “What do yah mean, Yanc?”

Yancy scurried back with his hands as Arthur brought the bat onto the jar, crushing many insects as others frantically tried to escape. The young author crushed one trying to flee, bringing up his notebook and making sure they all froze in place. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Sick to his stomach, Yancy tried to scoop up some of the insects, the little crawlers freed from Arthur’s powers when they touched his hand, and he flung them into the safety of the bushes.

“Hey, they’re mine!” Arthur shouted. “Don’t throw them away.”

“Run little bugs,” Yancy scooped up some beetles and a worm and threw them into the bushes.

With a couple flourishes of his wrist, an equal number of bugs that Yancy had saved, exploded. “I can kill them faster than you can take them.”

Yancy stuck out his tongue, scooping up another beetle, “You can’t stop me!

Their game continued, Yancy running back to the Manor with a bloody nose and Arthur more than a bit scratched up.

4. Illinois- Heroes and Villains:

Inside the Manor there were two young boys running around the house, one as, and the other who was in a kid’s brown fedora that tended to fall over his eyes was 13.

“Stop running,” Illinois yelled at Yancy. “You’re the hero, you’re supposed to chase me.”

“Youse always play the villain, I’s want a turn,” Yancy yelled back at him and tripped over the rug, crashing hard on the ground.

“Oww,” Yancy grumbled as Illinois jumped onto him and started tying up his feet.

“Gotcha!” Illinois cheered, “now it’s . . .”

The older boy paused for a bit, “You okay.”

“Yeah it just hurts,” he complained.

“Oh,” Illinois stopped and finished tying him up, grabbing a blanket that had been left on the couch. “You can be the villain for a little bit long if you want.”

“Youse gonna ta drag me ta jail?” Yancy asked, smiling and giggling when Illinois rolled him onto the blanket.

Illinois grabbed the blanket and began dragging it towards, “You’re going to jail for stealing a candy bar!”

“No!” Yancy yelled overdramatically.

Illinois picked up a corner of the blanket and began dragging him towards the nearest closet. They passed Dark who was outside his office and looking at them, unimpressed.

“You two aren’t playing that game again are you?” He asked.

Illinois adjusted his hat so it wasn’t over his eyes, “Yes?”

Dark groaned, “Play that outside, you’re going to break something.”

“OK, Dad,” both Yancy and Illinois agreed and Illinois began dragging Yancy and the blanket towards the door.

Because both of them were turned away they missed the scared look on Dark’s face at the title they’d give him. Fear that quickly gave way to a colder mask. “It’s Dark.”

Both the boys frowned,, correcting themselves before Illinois finished dragging Yancy onto the back patio and then carried him down the stairs to the lawn where he grabbed a couple croquet pins and made a little small fence around him. Both boys unaware that Dark was watching them from the balcony

“There,” Illinois said proudly, hands resting on his hips. “I won.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yancy complained. “Whatever. Untie me already.”

Illinois tapped his chin, “Nah, untie yourself.”

“Noisy!��� Yancy yelled. “Get back here!”

Then Yancy noticed a danger sticking out of the ground. Quickly Yancy rolled over and grabbed the knife and began cutting himself free.

“Hey!” Illinois began racing for the patio stairwell door as Yancy finished cutting himself free. Since the knots were tied by a thirteen-year-old and Illinois hadn’t actually meant to keep him trapped indefinitely, it didn’t take long.

However, now Yancy was chasing Illinois around with a knife in his hand as the boys ran up the stairs. Dark quickly snatched the knife out of his hand the first chance he got.

“Dark, he cheated!” Illinois called out.

The Entity was just sipping from his coffee cup as the two boys raced around him. “You’re the villain now, get away from him.”

Yancy and Illinois kept running around the backyard until they got exhausted and Dark brought them inside for a nap and a snack.

3. Kay- The King of the Squirrels:

Kay was arranging some of the stuffed animals he owned into a pile. The young boy had a red blanket tied around his neck. Dark and King were in a bit of an arms race. King always asked for a pet, every birthday, Christmas, and Thursday. Dark, sick and tired of always saying a two-letter word over and over again bet he could find any stuffed animal and if he was ever unable to, Kay could have that animal as a pet.

It was bet Dark had yet to lose, which led to an arms race of Kay finding different names for animals, and a very extensive stuffed animal collection.

Yancy jumped out of the pile, and raised a stuffed platypus above his head, “Found it!”

“Uh, they don’t hunt squirrels,” Kay reminded him.

“What do they eat then?” Yancy asked, trying to get out of the pile without knocking the whole thing over.

“Bugs, worms,” Kay shrugged and grabbed a leopard plushie. “Here, cats can eat squirrels.”

“But I’s like the platty-pus,” Yancy complained.

“Bring them both,” Kay shrugged, and Yancy took the leopard and held both of them in his arms in a warm hug.

Out of all of his siblings, Yancy liked spending time with Illy, but he always thought Kay was the nicest. The boys ran outside, to where Kay had hidden some of his favorite stuffed animals, his squirrels, up into a tree towards the edge of the tree line into the creepy forest. Wil had magicked them all up a treehouse. Dark had been less than impressed, only agreeing to keep the kids’ new “wooden death trap” when Wil demonstrated its sturdiness by getting up and jumping up and down on the thing and not fall through the wood.

King usually spent all his time up in the treehouse. And Yancy waited at the bottom until he could throw the toys up and climb up.

The afternoon was spent peacefully playing with the stuffed animals.

2. Bim- Starlight, Starbright:

Yancy and Bim were out on the front lawn, sneaking out late at night to catch fireflies. Normally Dark let them stay up late all summer collecting bugs and sleeping in the backyard. But for the last few days he’d been keeping them all inside, constantly watching them any time they went near the backyard. He promised them that whatever was lurking around the area would be gone soon and they could go back to enjoying the stars and bugs.

And if Yancy heard Dark screaming and fighting something in what he was pretty sure was a dead, haunted forest, the young boy was too nervous to talk about it with anyone else.

Bim jumped, his glasses almost falling off his face. He caught another firefly in his hands, cupping his hands around it, “Yes!”

Yancy was catching another firefly and carefully putting it in a jar where there were already a dozen fireflies buzzing around inside. After the fiasco with Arthur, he kept a tight grip on the insect jar, even though Bim had never ruthlessly tortured insects before.

The two boys kept putting little lightning bugs into their jar until Bim was finally satisfied. “Yeah, look at them,” Bim cheered. “Aren’t they cool, their little butts glow.”

“Yeah, ain’t they something,” Yancy agreed, before noticing that the fireflies were disappearing from their backyard, as if they were being chased. “I’s think Dark’s comin’ we should get inside.”

Bim frowned, “I didn’t even get my wish.”

“We’ll make it inside, come on,” Yancy began running inside, both boys missing the slowly gathering black mist that was in the treeline as the two boys raced inside and up into Bim’s bedroom. Only then did they giggle a little bit in the darkness, the only light was from the little bugs in their jar.

“Let me make the first one,” Bim reached for the jar.

“No, you’ll let them all go,” Yancy reminded, holding the jar away from him. “Come on, I’s never get the first one.”

He pouted, folding his arms like Wil tended to do, “Come on.”

Yancy moved over to Bim’s window and began to open it as Bim swiped the jar and grabbed one of the bugs, pinning it to his hand with his almost invisible aura. Yancy lunged for the jar to close it, but two glowing bugs escaped through the window. “Hey!”

“I want to be just like Daddy when I grown up,” Bim wished, blowing gently on the insect and allowing it to fly off.

Yancy was carefully getting another lightning bug on his own finger so he could make his own wish: “I’s wanna be a good person.”

Bim scoffed at that, but only ordered, “Give me another bug, I’ve got more wishes to make.”

Glaring at him, Yancy fought over the fireflies until they were all gone and Bim closed the window, all their troubles safely locked out of Manor.

1. Yan- Teddy Bear Picnic:

Yancy was sitting out in the back lawn with Yan, a little table between them and as many chairs as the little table could fit with a teddy on each chair. Each bear had on a bow tie and a frilly hat and a full tea party in front of them.

Yan was in a nice little red dress while Yancy was in a bow tie,

Two of the bears belonged to Yan and Yancy respectively, and the other three were politely and quietly “borrowed” from Kay’s collection.

Yan kicked her feet a little bit as she poured tea for the bear next to her.

“Why do you always give tea to her first?” Yancy complained.

“Because Ms. Talia is a lady,” Yan said.

“Youse been sittings’ there pouring her tea fer ferever,” Yancy reminded.

Then suddenly the whole table jolted, Yan and Yancy froze and leaned away from the table, Yan gasping in horror as her hard work was mostly tossed to the floor.

“Rawr! Rawr!” Artie began growling excitedly as he moved underneath the same tablecloth.

“Artie!” Yan got up and stomped her feet angrily. “You wrecked my tea party!”

“I’m not Artie,” Arthur said. “I’m a sea monster.”

“There’s no sea monsters at tea parties,” Yancy reminded sharply.

Arthur frowned, “Then you’re having a lousy tea party.”

“No,” Yan spat. “I don’t want sea monsters at my tea party!”

The young author frowned, before growing a bit and running off with the table cloth.

A chase ensued on the back lawn, the two kids chasing their older brother until they could rip the cloth away and slowly start rebuilding their little tea party. With Artie the sea monster in sea monster jail until the end of the tea party.

+1. Dark and Wil- Bruised Egos and Bloodied Knuckles:

It began simply enough. Arthur had brought a rat into the house, and Kay had been excited. A secret little pet to hide from Dark for a while.

Kay named him Pretzel.

The poor creature barely lasted an hour. It was in debate for the rest of Arthur’s existence on what had happened to the rodent. Whether he was jealous of the rat spending more time with Kay, or he simply got bored of it.

Either way when Kay snuck off to check on Pretzel, the rat was gone with only a couple specks of blood on the floor of its cage.

He angrily went to confront Arthur, who was watching a show with Wil and the other kids. Arthur feigned ignorance and Yancy jumped Arthur for killing another creature, trying to separate him from his notebook and hold him down.

The fight resulted in Arthur getting a black eye, Kay getting some scratches to the face, and Yancy getting one of the last of his baby teeth getting literally kicked out of his skull.

Wil was trying to separate the three boys with his aura, and looked relieved when Dark ran in and grabbed Arthur, the two porting over to the young boy’s room.

With Arthur gone Kay finally stopped fighting and just started crying, Yancy crying a bit at how upset he was.

Yancy was given a lollipop as Kay spoke through his tears. “He killed my rat, he killed Pretzel.”

“There, there,” Wilford waved another lollipop into his hand and did a little magic trick. “You’ll see Pretzel again. He didn’t die.”

“Wil!” Dark walked in, looking unhappy. “Don’t make it worse.”

“Kaylor if you wanted another rat toy I could have given it to you,” Dark reprimanded, summoning up a little rat plushie in his hands and holding it out to the boy. “You shouldn’t be fighting with Arthur over a rat.”

Kay glared at the toy and pushed it away, “I don’t want a toy, I want Pretzel.”

Dark took a deep, audible breath, and handed Yancy the toy instead. “We can’t have a pet, and this is why. Be lucky you got as long as you did with the thing.”

“Pretzel,” Yancy corrected.

Rolling his eyes, Dark corrected, “Pretzel, fine. Be lucky you got any time with Pretzel. No one in the house can control themselves, and any other pet will not last. Hopefully Pretzel escaped on his own.”

Dark picked Yancy up with his aura, setting the boys side-by-side as he talked to them. “Just imagine that Pretzel escaped and is living with the other rats. If that makes you feel better.”

Kay nodded and Dark smiled as he dried Kay’s eyes, “I’m sorry we can’t have the pet you want, and maybe one day you’ll get to actually own a pet.”

Giving a small smile, Dark smiled back and smooth out Kay’s slight curly hair.

Then he turned to Yancy, “As for you.”

“What?” Yancy argued back.

“What were you thinking?” Dark demanded.

“Artie killed Pretzel an’ might use his book ta hurt Kay,” Yancy accused.

“How do you know he killed it?” Dark quizzed.

“Because he smashed a jar a bugs an’ he hit me,” Yancy answered as Dark just stoically stared at him.

When Yancy finished, Dark summoned up his favorite candy bar and held it up in front of the young boy.

“Listen to me, Yancy, you need to always protect your siblings, even if sometimes you have to protect them from each other.” Dark had the softest look in his eyes that Yancy had ever seen. When Yancy reached for the candy bar, Dark’s looked hardened and he pulled it away.

“This isn’t a free license to beat up on your brother, do you understand me?” Dark demanded.

“Yes,” Yancy replied earnestly.

Dark smiled and gave him the candy bar. Turning back to Will he said, “Well hopefully Arthur’s calmed down a bit. Can’t leave him in his room all day.”

Dark ripped open a portal in the Void and walked through it, leaving Wil to take the kids back to the living room where then TV was waiting for them.

[hybristoo]

A Letter

Summary: Arthur gets a letter he’s been needing without knowing it.

Words: 2835

Thank you to @seeyouonadarkknight​ for helping me edit it!

Paper is made of the cellulose fibres in wood and grass. Ink is made of organic oils and plant dyes. In this sense, a letter is just the excrement of nature; an amalgam of years of linear evolution. Yet somehow, it could carry so much weight. 

This was a truth Arthur Fleck came to know well as he stared at the conspicuous envelope perched in his mailbox. The angle of its corpus allowed him to see the large lettering on the front, written in fine cursive as though it was a letter from the President: To Penny Fleck. After a moment’s hesitation which suggested he thought it might vaporize should he touch it, Arthur pinched the envelope gently between his two hands. 

“To Penny Fleck.”

The words were alien in his mouth, even as a murmur rather than a steadfast statement. When he had first seen the envelope he had instinctively assumed it to be another IOU or reminder from his therapist of the meeting this upcoming weekend. However, it was only when his eyes grazed the front that his fingers twitched back in protest. 

In his head, there were a number of hums about the contents of this envelope but one blared louder than any other: Thomas Wayne. His mother was incessant about that man and every day she would ask the same question: Did you check the mail, Happy? He had figured his mother was simply too credulous or perhaps willfully ignorant of the unlikeliness of this Wayne figure paying his old maid any mind but now there was a glimmer of hope within him. Some good news to deliver in the midst of all the madness of the streets. 

Arthur gently slid the envelope into the pocket of his jacket and walked towards the elevator. 

By the time he got to his door, there had been enough excitement building up in his legs to put a pep in his step and a jerk to his lips. He opened the door almost ceremoniously, putting the groceries for the night’s supper on the floor with little regard. “I’m home, Ma.” 

He stepped through the apartment briskly, manoeuvring himself into the bedroom where his mom had alighted on the bed. It just about looked as though she was going to ask him the question when he interrupted her. “I’ve got a letter for you.” 

Penny’s face lit up like the sky on New Year’s eve. There were sparks flying from her eyes and colour to her cheeks. “From Thomas Wayne?” she inquired; a lilt of a question. 

“I don’t know,” he hummed, handing her the envelope. He crawled onto the bed, kicking off his shoes in the process. Penny’s thumb stroked the cursive caption. Arthur pointed to the top of the letter. “No sender’s indicated, see?” He shifted, clearing his throat. “But it looks fancy, doesn’t it?” 

Penny looked up at Arthur, strands of hair hovering over her eyes. There was longing in her eyes; a shy peace of mind daring to peek its head around the corner. She stuck her fingers under the seal, carefully undoing the adhesive. Both of them had their eyes glued to the envelope as Penny slowly extracted the letter from within. They held their breath as they unravelled it. 

The first thing which struck Arthur was the lettering at the top in the same presidential writing as the front of the envelope, written in glittering red ink: Merry Christmas, Neighbor! 

Arthur observed his mother’s face as it drooped the farther into the letter she came. Disappointment that it wasn’t, in fact, a letter from Thomas Wayne, which the title made abundantly clear. Penny’s expression tightened. 

“Oh, Happy, isn’t that sweet?” she warbled, her voice retaining a positive quality. However, her expression said it all. “That nice girl, Y/N, from the floor above us is having a Christmas party for everyone.” 

Penny handed him the letter. Arthur’s eyes skimmed through it. Sure enough, the letter said that they and every other tenant were invited to attend a shindig to celebrate Christmas on December 24th - Christmas Eve. Although at the bottom, in tiny, coy characters, as though it had been a last-minute afterthought, it said people not celebrating Christmas were also welcome to come. 

Y/N. Arthur didn’t know of any Y/Ns - nor did he recognize the apartment number all that well - 505, only knowing it must be on the floor above them. However, this was scarcely unusual as he, like most tenants, had made no particular effort to get to know the others. There was very rarely any sort of events in the complex. Only the occasional meeting with the housing cooperative, but that was only in absolute emergencies which lead their announcement to be dreadful once they arrived. 

This lead Arthur to believe “Y/N” must be a new tenant, unfamiliar with the unspoken rules and traditions of their condominium which stated you only ever interacted if you had to. 

Arthur looked to his shyly smiling mother. “Yes, Ma, it is.” 

__

When Christmas Eve arrived, the two Flecks did decide they would go to the gathering. 

They never really enjoyed the festivities of Christmas. Not because they didn’t want to engage in it but because neither had the energy nor capital to do so. Since his 20th birthday, Arthur had only had a Christmas tree twice - one of which he got it for free. Usually, all that would happen was that Arthur would give his mother a thoughtful gift which would only be reciprocated with a similar gift half of the time - typically something home-made.

And Arthur was satisfied with that. It wasn’t the grandeur which could be seen on the telly but knowing little else, it was enough for him.  

However, that did not mean he wasn’t enticed by the thought of getting to meet someone new. Someone outside work, someone outside Randall, Gary, Hoyt. Someone outside his family. His mother, on the other hand, seemed enticed by the idea of meeting Y/N again, describing their interaction in the corridor once - noting upon her cordiality and bright smile. 

And indeed, when they knocked on the door, the girl who opened the door had the most dazzling smile Arthur had ever seen. It had the infectiousness of rats with the plague; a spread of purity. Just this smile told Arthur what he had suspected all along; Y/N was not native to Gotham. 

“Hi! Hi, thanks for coming,” she beamed. She was silent for a moment, studying Arthur and Penny with a twinkle in her eyes. For a brief moment, she locked eyes with Arthur, her smile widening ever so slightly. Then, it was broken by the shake of her head. “Sorry, where are my manners? Come inside.” 

She stepped away from the door, moving into the living room which supervened it. The apartment had the same qualities that were present in every single flat. The paint on the walls was chipping away, the corners of the carpeted ground were torn up and there was mildew blighting the darkest corners. Where it was different was in the decoration. There was clear effort put into making the place look tidy. While the furniture itself was nothing special, it seemed newly washed, and there were little plants placed in odd places to give the room some lustre. There was a hint of an optimistic personality strewn all over. 

What drew Arthur’s eyes most was the luscious tree standing in the corner of the living room. As the layout of the apartment was almost identical to his, if he narrowed his eyes enough, he could imagine it standing in his living room instead. It was very classically Christmas - just like the ones Arthur had seen on the silver screen. Nothing like the sad, skinny tree he’d bought for $3.25 six years earlier. With all its decoration and the star atop, it was a glimmer in all the darkness. 

Before Arthur could indulge himself further in the tableau, Y/N stepped into his field of vision. She had that smile on her face. “Sorry, you must be Penny’s son, right? She mentioned you. I don’t think I caught your name.” 

He tore his gaze away from the jolly tree. His shoulder twitched as a small, crooked smile appeared on his lips. “Arthur,” he replied.

“I’m Y/N.” She stretched out her hand. Arthur slowly grabbed it, his hand lose in her sanguine grip. She had a golden smile. 

The night went on rather smoothly. Arthur and his mother were two of the only people who came - the others being a single mother and her child and a couple which explained, rather awkwardly, that they weren’t going to come but were only here because their train out of the city was cancelled. 

It wasn’t strange that there were so few which attended. The people who would otherwise come to such gatherings were out spending this time with closer friends and family. Those who weren’t busy were too asocial to come. Then there were those in the middle of the Venn diagram; namely, the sextet gathered. 

It was perhaps because they shared these traits that conversation did not come forcefully but instead effortlessly. Granted, Arthur was mostly quiet - slurping his water while gawking at the Christmas decor, but it seemed to him it was going smoothly. He even dared to interject his opinions and thoughts in clusters of 3-word sentences at times. 

First to leave was the couple, who dropped off after just an hour, saying that their replacement train would be coming soon. Arthur thought it seemed like bullshit - their uncomfortable smiles suggesting they just didn’t care for the company, but Y/N had a smile on her face as she bid them adieu. 

Second was the mom and her child. They left after a little over 2 hours. The mother stroked her daughter’s head as she hummed “It’s Gigi’s bedtime soon,” to which the little girl giggled and drawled about not being tired through yawns. Y/N had that same smile on her face as she waved them goodbye. 

Thirdly, 3 hours into the party, Penny stood up to leave. “Happy, I’m going to bed,” she said in response to his questioning stare. Arthur shot a glance at the clock. It was rather early for bed, but his mother had been increasingly tired of recent. A symptom of age, perhaps. Her weary eyes suggested the truth to her statement.

“Alright, Ma.”

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Y/N shot up from her seat. “Please, take some of these left-overs with you.” Y/N swiped a couple of boxes filled with various dishes and pastries off her kitchen counter, practically placing them in Penny’s grasp. “I couldn’t eat them all on my own.” 

“Oh, that’s very kind of you.” Penny wore a tired smile, trudging towards the door. “Well, goodnight you two,” she called out. She was halfway through the door when she turned around, looking at Y/N. “Oh, and Merry Christmas, Y/N.” 

“Merry Christmas, Ms. Fleck!” 

Y/N’s smile was incandescent.

The silence which followed when the door shut was ubiquitous. Y/N hovered by the sofa for a moment, shuffling her feet. 

“Say, Arthur, do you drink?” 

As it turned out, Y/N had been prepared for a lot more people, and so she had multiple cans of beer and a bottle of wine prepared in her kitchen. While giving herself and Arthur one can of beer each, she grinned as she mentioned the fact that Jesus did not turn water into wine, but Shekhar - which is roughly the same thing as beer. 

Arthur had come to know her as an educated person. Somebody with well-rounded ideas of the world and clever trivia about every place imaginable. To Arthur, who had been stuck in Gotham all his life, it was something that evoked that childish curiosity he once possessed. 

And he started talking more. Maybe it was the 3 cans of beer and one glass of wine, but he started unravelling, spewing out every trivia he could think of which may possibly relate to whatever the topic of conversation was - trying to impress her.

For what reason?

When conversation did die down it was because both of them had exhausted their treasures of knowledge. Enough time had passed that the only light coming from the window was that of the stars. Arthur didn’t dare look at the clock. 

Y/N walked over to her drawers, fishing out a pack of Kent cigarettes - a lack of precision in her steps. Sweet and smooth, Arthur thought, thinking of the taste. Just like her. His lips twitched. He took out his own pack of cigarettes - Camel. Harsh and strong.

Y/N lit her cigarette, opening the window, and when she turned around, noticing the cigarette in his hand, she lit his as well. The cool winter air danced into the room, but it was strangely warm on the sofa. Y/N sat down next to Arthur. 

“You know,” she mumbled after a moment of silence. “I was going to celebrate Christmas Eve with my friend.” She scratched her leg. Smoke was starting to gather above them, their separate exhales joining into one big cloud. “I told you I’m not a Gothamite. I moved here because he - my friend, and I, we-” Her leg started bouncing. “We had this film project going. This idea about capturing Gotham’s soul on camera. There’s so much curiosity about this place, you know?” 

Arthur nodded along. He was listening intently, noting the sudden rawness to her tone. Unfamiliar in an otherwise stream of bubbling tones. 

“We were gonna start filming on Christmas Eve, because, well, even criminals celebrate Christmas, right? So we were going to film in the Narrows today, thinking it would be the safest time of year to film there.” She stopped. She wasn’t smiling. There wasn’t even an inkling of a smile on her face. But it looked like she was saying farewell to something. “He died.” A forceful twitch possessed her lips. “Robbery went wrong. In the Narrows. Funny, isn’t it?”

Arthur’s face dropped. “I’m sorry,” he whispered with the swiftness of wind. He carefully put his hand on her back, making wonky circular motions which occasionally changed in character. 

She was quiet again - a feature Arthur had come to dread from Y/N because he never knew what she was thinking. “Gigi asked me what I wanted for Christmas earlier. I said I didn’t know but it was a lie. I want company. I sent those invitations out one day after his death.” Y/N took one final drag of her cigarette before squashing it into her ashtray. “Now I know why they call Gotham the most populated lonely place on earth.” 

Arthur opened his mouth and then closed it. “I--”

Before he could complete his sentence, a loud crash echoed through the apartment. At first, fear struck them both - a simultaneous worry that maybe she’d jinxed it by mentioning the lack of crime on Christmas Eve. Then, Y/N let out a hiss “Shit. It’s the shower again.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she wandered towards the bathroom. Arthur sat stuck like glue to the couch at first before her words clicked in his mind. “Oh, my shower does the same thing,” he interjected, following her. 

On his way into the bathroom, his face collided with a hanging piece of vegetation. He furrowed his eyebrows, ignoring it for now as he drew his attention to Y/N. She was fiddling with the various screws on the showerhead. He had no idea how a shower could be so broken that it would occasionally erupt in ear-shattering sound, but he was now convinced it was a universal trait in the complex. “You want to turn the one at the base. That usually helps.” 

Y/N looked up at him and smiled, doing as he said. She turned to him, noticing his predicament. She looked between him and the hanging piece of vegetation tickling his face. She cleared her throat. “Oh, sorry, it must’ve fallen some since I put it up.” She moved to fix it when Arthur, in all his budding curiosity, interrupted her steps.

“What is this?” 

“Oh,” she breathed. “Well, it’s - it’s supposed to be mistletoe, but…” 

Arthur looked at her. She stared back. There was a rubicund quality to her cheeks. It was so deafeningly quiet Arthur almost wished for the shower to make that awful shrill sound once more. 

Arthur was about to move out of the doorway, figuring with the way she was staring at him that she was trying to get him to budge, but just as he took that first step, he felt a hand grab his. 

And maybe it was the alcohol because there was a slurred quality to her words when she spoke.  

“Can I kiss you, Arthur?”

And maybe it was the alcohol because he said yes.

[shytalia]

A Prince & A Pirate’s Fate - 16

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

Chapter Sixteen

Start at Chapter one here:https://shytalia.tumblr.com/post/611878754309079040/a-prince-and-a-pirates-fate-usuk-fanfic

Also available on my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shytalia

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

Alfred awoke with a throbbing pain in his head.

“Ugh, what the fuck.” He groaned, holding his head as if it would make the pounding in it go away.

“Watch your language. I see Kirkland has left an unfortunate impact on you.”

Alfred jumped at the sound of another voice so close to him, his eyes widening and snapping in the direction of the intrusion. It was the current king, sitting calmly by his side. He stared at him gaping, unsure of exactly where he was or why his father was by his side as he slept. What he did know, however, was that Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

He was beaten to it before he could even open his mouth to ask.

“You disobeyed direct orders and have been visiting that pirate during the night, haven’t you?” There wasn’t much in the way of a question so much as it was just a statement. The king let out a rough huff of disapproval when his son didn’t answer. “As such, I have no choice but to relocate Kirkland to a more secure room. One you won’t be able to break into.”

He took a moment to look his son over. His young features were crinkled in irritation and he could see faint marks on his lower neck from previous private affairs, no doubt left by the captain himself. The image of his son stooping that low was unnerving.

“But upon reflecting your little escapades, I’ve deemed that a more proper punishment is in order. Kirkland will be relocated and put under the most maximum security, but he will no longer be allowed to do anything more than sit and wait.”

“What? What does that even mean?” Alfred growled, moving forward only to realize he himself couldn’t move either. With wide eyes his vision snapped to the side and saw his wrists chained to the bed he was on, allowing him to move only a very short distance. “Y-You can’t do this! Let me go!” He yelled.

“It is a necessity, you’ll see. You will be released on the night of the ball. I think a few days of solitude will prove to be a fitting punishment. No more running around the halls like a love sick puppy searching for its master.” The King muttered, taking the prince’s chin in his hand and twisting his head towards him. He matched the glare thrown at him. “Just so you understand me, son, allow me to be perfectly clear. You should relax and do as you are told. The more you struggle to understand what I’m doing is for the best then the more suffering you’ll bring your poor Arthur. Your actions will reflect his treatment. If you insist on acting out of line, his punishments will be all the worse because of you.”

For a moment hesitation flashed in Alfred’s eyes, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What punishments?” He asked, softer this time as if he were afraid of the answer.

“Anything I see fit. Because of your little adventures in the night, Arthur has already received ten lashings. You wouldn’t want him to get more, would you?” The elder man said easily.

Then, Alfred’s calm exterior was gone, replaced by a hot fury that threatened to eat him from the inside out. His chains rattled against his harsh movements as he attempted to free himself.

“What!” He practically screamed. “You whipped him? For what! He didn’t do anything, it was all me! He was stuck in that damn room day after day, I’m the one who kept visiting him even after he told me to stop!”

Despite his outburst, the king simply waved his hand as if brushing the offensive words out of the air. “It doesn’t really matter. Queen or not, he has to pay for everything he’s done in the past. He’s lucky I’ve been merciful, you know as well as I do that criminals like him do not often get anything less than a noose or permanent disfiguration. Would you prefer I do that?”

“No! I’d prefer if you treated him like my goddamn queen!”

At that, the King let out a small chuckle and stood up. “He will be treated like the queen once he acts like one and not a disgusting pirate. But don’t worry, it won’t take long, I will break him of his filthy habits soon enough.”

And despite the yelling from the younger royal and the screaming of his chains as he tore at him, rubbing the flesh beneath them raw until they bled, the king left his son alone again.

--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The arrival of the other kingdom’s royals a few days later sent a wave of excitement throughout the entire capital.

Much like the impromptu parade signifying the arrival of Prince Alfred’s return home, carriages of varying colors carried new and foreign leaders towards the castle walls. Crowds clumped together on the streets for a chance to see a Heart, Diamond, or a Club wagon, each decorated as extravagantly as the last.

First came the Hearts, their red ribbons and heart-printed banners clashed brightly against the normal, Spadian blues. Most exciting was the young prince whose stoic face charmed all those he passed, offering them a polite wave but not much more. It didn’t seem to bother the crowd as they gorged themselves on his handsome features.

Next were the Clubs, a cold nation of ice and snow, but their green symbol was an ironic feature plastered for all to see. It was almost a mask, the clover of their nation a sign of luck and prosperity, even in the dead of winter. Despite this, people found themselves ogling the impressively tall, burly man with the gentle smile as he rode down the streets.

Lastly were the fashionably late Diamonds. Bright and warm, covered in gold and jewels, the King of Diamonds flashed his ringed hand enthusiastically to the people surrounding him. Women and men caught the kisses he drew from his mouth, blowing them into the crowd with fervor.

Overall, the arrival of the three foreign kingdoms was a cheerful success. Servants busied themselves making last minute preparations and ran around the castle like bees in a hive.

Alfred could hear the commotion from his room, finally released from his bounds he rubbed at the bruised skin of his wrists with a scowl. His father had never acted this tyrannically before, at least, not to Alfred. Had it always been there and he just hadn’t seen it?

He shook those thoughts away and pulled on his navy coat. It dragged down in the back and he couldn’t help but wonder what Arthur would be wearing. No doubt, they would dress him up like a doll in Spadian nationality and the Brit would loath every second of it. This is exactly what Arthur had been trying to avoid for so long and yet, here Alfred had made his worst nightmares come true.

He mentally cursed himself for it but a soft knock on his door banished those thoughts.

“Your highness, it is time.” A calm voice spoke through the wood. When Alfred opened it, he was greeted with the familiar face of the royal Jack.

“Yao,” Alfred recognized, doing his best to bite back his anger and his anxiety. He had to do this right, for Arthur’s sake. “Let’s get this over with.”

The walk to the ballroom was long and the sound of chattering people exploded to life the second they swung the grand doors open. There were nobles and ladies scattered around the hall, each decorated with elegance and riches. Some were already dancing and others were drinking, gossiping about petty affairs that made Alfred’s head hurt.

The Chinese man pushed him onward and towards a large, stage-like platform at the end of the room. It had chairs, in which already sat the current King and Queen as they watched the people buzz below them.

Alfred ignored any greetings he received as he walked through the crowd, not truly on purpose, but his mind swarmed with different scenarios that could go wrong at any moment.

He took his place in a chair, it was high up where he could see the entire room clearly. It was more often than not used for his parents and their more esteemed guests to lounge during parties such as this one. When they weren’t dancing around the ball room, they sat perched and watching like hawks to a bustle of prey.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Yao called after Alfred was seated, earning looks from all across the room. “I am proud to introduce our guests, who have traveled far to come and greet our new Queen and congratulate the young, Prince Alfred. So, without further ado, please welcome your majesties...”

The short man took a quick bow, pulling the doors of the ballroom open, and gestured for those outside it to come in. As he did, he dutifully introduced each one.

“Prince Ludwig, of the Hearts. King Ivan, of the Clubs. And King Francis, of the Diamonds. Welcome to The Spades.” Yao bowed to them once more.

The three took in their surroundings, obviously sizing up the room, its decor, and its occupants. At once, three pairs of eyes set sharply on the three, Spadian royals sitting on the other side of the room.

King Ivan was the first to speak. “Ah, it is nice to meet you, your highnesses.” He gave a small bow of his own, but even his crouched stature was far taller than anyone else in the room. “However, I am not seeing the newly found queen. I was told we would get the chance to meet him and I was looking forward to it quite a bit.” Something sparkled in his lavender eyes that made Alfred want to hurl, or punch him in the face, whichever came first.

The creepy Club did have a point, however. Where was Arthur? This ball was supposed to be a celebration of him coming to the castle, surely his parents weren’t going to leave him locked up throughout the entire thing!

As if on cue, the door creaked open once more and each curious face glanced to it. Standing with guards at his sides was Arthur, dressed in the finest clothing Alfred had ever seen him in. His blue eyes widened slightly, watching carefully as his betrothed strut into the room looking nothing less like complete, Spadian royalty.

“Arthur!” Alfred jumped up. As much as he told himself he would behave, the sight of Arthur finally out and free of chains made his heart beat erratically. The only thing that brought him back down to earth was his father’s cough and a harsh grip on his wrist, preventing him from jumping off the stage and towards the other blonde across the hall. Looking back, his eyes met the cold, warning glare of the elder royal and he swallowed.

Relaxing and standing up straight, he stared ahead at the man he adored so much just to find him looking right back up at him. There was something swimming there in those wide, green orbs that Alfred couldn’t quite place and it worried him to no end. So, without thinking, he grinned widely and outstretched his arms to address the room loudly.

“Welcome! Now that everyone is here, let’s get to dancing!” He bounced off the platform in a single leap, landing on the hard floor below and practically racing towards the petite, shaggy-haired man with open arms. “What do you say, Arthur? Can I have this dance with my future queen?”

Arthur’s eyes widened in disbelief, unsure if Alfred was trying to get them in trouble again or not. But, here in front of so many people, what could his father really do? So, he smiled and nodded, reaching out and allowing his hand to be taken.

“Of course.”

Within an instant, he was pulled close against a warm chest and an arm snaked around his waist, drawing him ever nearer.

“Good.” Alfred breathed, softer now that he had Arthur so close against him. He pulled the shorter man towards the middle of the room, ignoring the people that shifted to get out of their way, and immediately started twirling their bodies together to the music that flowed gently through the air. “I missed you.” He whispered.

Arthur only made a small sound of agreement, but his stiff limbs relaxed the longer Alfred held him close. He did his best to ignore the obvious eyes that were boring into them, even if they were being discrete, Arthur knew better than to think they weren’t at the forefront of everyone’s gaze.

“I’m sorry...for what happened. You didn’t deserve that.”

Green shot up and met blue. Arthur wavered at the look of sincerity and regret that twisted the younger man’s sweet face. It wasn’t a look that fit Alfred, he was meant for smiles and laughter, not worry or anger. The Brit shook his head and offered a small smile.

“Don’t worry. It’s far from the worst thing I’ve ever endured.” He assured.

His response only seemed to make Alfred’s brows furrow further together and his frown deepen.

“That’s not the point. I don’t want them to hurt you.” The prince voiced, removing his hand from Arthur’s in favor of pulling down at the other man’s sleeve. He could see the darkness of bruises lingering there from his binds, much like he had on his own, but Arthur’s looked even worse. Not only that, those familiar metal, bracelets encircled his pale wrists. It seemed even during a ball his father couldn’t trust Arthur not to kill him. For once since he returned, he thought the king actually got something right. “I promised you that I’d be your hero.”

“I don’t expect you to keep all your promises.”

As much as he wished he didn’t, Arthur couldn’t shake that feeling of betrayal he had when he realized Alfred was the man he had spent years loathing. No amount of sweet words and gifts would change that overwhelming ache in his chest at being lied to for so long.

Alfred frowned more at that but didn’t press the issue. He knew he had a lot to prove to Arthur and he wouldn’t stop until he made everything up to him and then some. But for now, he was content to have his lover close and to twirl him around the room to the sound of music.

Several dances later, Arthur opted to take a small break and convinced the young prince to grab a drink instead of just showering him in open affection. Alfred had pouted but agreed, running off to find the nearest butler with a glass of wine.

“It is nice to meet you, your highness.”

Arthur nearly jumped out of his own skin when a low voice ghosted past his ear. He turned to find a very tall, very intimidating man looming over him with a gentle grin. He nearly looked like he could pick him up and break him in half over his knee if he wanted. Arthur sincerely hoped he didn’t try.

“Hm? Did I say something wrong? You’re looking at me as if you’ve seen a ghost.” The large man’s face morphed into something of a pout, if one could truly call it that.

“O-Oh, no, my apologies. I didn’t hear you come up.” Arthur dismissed quickly, taking a small step back. He may be a pirate with incredible magical abilities and a talent for weapons, but at the moment, he had neither of those things. It didn’t help that he had gotten quite the thorough instructions from the king before being dressed for this horrendous dance that if he were to act out of line, his brother would not go unpunished. Thus, he had to play nice.

His explanation must have been enough for the tall man because he smiled again and nodded. “I did not mean to scare you.” He told him, accent thick on his tongue. “I am King Ivan, from the Club’s Kingdom. I would be honored if I could have a dance with the future Queen of Spades.”

He held out a large hand and Arthur hesitated to take it. He wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to be manhandled by a very powerful stranger, but he didn’t have much reason to refuse either.

“Of course...” The Brit muttered, slowly lifting his own hand and placing it in the much bigger one. Without a moment to reconsider, Ivan pulled his smaller body close and was turning around in time with the music. Arthur barely had enough time to register what was happening as he was shoved, almost surprisingly snug, against the smothering body.

“I’ve come to meet you, Queen Arthur. I wanted to see you for my own eyes, it’s been quite a few years since we first heard about you. We weren’t sure you would ever actually come take your place.” Ivan talked casually, spinning Arthur around in circles as he did so, arm firmly planted against his lower back to keep him secure.

“Yes, well, I didn’t think I would either.” The pirate replied, almost bitterly as he spared a glance towards the platform the current monarchs sat on. He could see the King’s icy stare even from where he was moving in the middle of the dance floor.

“We Clubs have been watching these silly Spades run around trying to catch you for so long, it was most amusing. I’m almost sad the fun is now over.” The Russian sighed, his conversation moving as if Arthur hadn’t spoken at all.

What a particularly odd thing to say to the next queen of said kingdom.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow and looked up at the man who held him, taking in his childish frown of disappointment now that his apparent ‘fun’ was over.

“But, I get the feeling a new game is going to begin soon and it is exciting to finally meet the most interesting player. You’re not like the rest of these stuffy Spades.” Ivan’s smile once more tugged around the edges and, to Arthur, it almost resembled more of a smirk. He felt the hands around him tighten, as if drawing him closer to tell him a well-kept secret.

“I do believe most of the other people here are not murders and thieves.” Arthur replied easily. He may be put off by the other male, but he was not one to back down because of a little intimidation. He had his pride and he would keep it, as much as he could in this damned place anyway.

“I’m not so sure. But, perhaps your brand of depravity is a little bit different than theirs. That doesn’t mean there are not some similarities in the ruthlessness.” Ivan offered after a bark of laughter. He seemed genuinely pleased with Arthur’s answer. “Oh, but your dear prince...he’s not like the rest either, is he? Just look at him now, he’s glaring at me as if I’m about to rip your throat out. That is funny, da?”

Arthur ignored the low chuckle that emanated from the bigger man and twisted his head enough so he could see past his large arms. Sure enough, there was Alfred, two wine glasses in his hands and narrow eyes. He didn’t look jealous so much as he looked purely predatory.

“I think he and I will become very close friends. That would be great, yes?” Another deep laugh fluttered out of the Club’s chest, but something in Arthur told him that ‘friends’ was not exactly the right word to describe the thoughts Ivan was having at that moment.

“Of course. It would be lovely to have a good relationship between the Spades and the Clubs. I look forward to it.” The Brit announced, a tad too loud, but he felt the need to get out of the man’s grasp as quickly as possible. “Please, excuse me. I believe the prince has retrieved our drinks.”

Slowly, Ivan pulled back his arms and released the shorter man with a content smile.

“Thank you for the dance, your majesty. You are very fun.” He said.

Arthur gave a short bow, “And to you as well, King Ivan.” He told him, before turning on his heel and speeding off towards Alfred. Taking one of the beverages offered, he brought it to his lips and wasted no time drinking it down.

“What did he say?” Alfred asked lowly, cold eyes still hovering on the tall form retreating off the dance floor.

“King Ivan? Not much. Just that he thought our little game of cat and mouse had been rather amusing for him.” Arthur mumbled. It seemed he underestimated some of these other lands. He was a wanted man in each kingdom, including Clubs, and yet the King was content in watching them for his own amusement instead of trying to capture him for his crimes. “I believe he rather liked seeing you upset as we danced.”

Alfred’s gaze was still narrowed when blue eyes turned to him instead, softening immediately when they finally landed on Arthur’s gently, smiling face. Slowly, the prince brought his free hand up and ran his fingers across his lover’s cheek and cupped his face. “Of course I was upset. How am I supposed to feel with someone else holding you like that?” He asked, but his voice was somewhat amused. “More so, I don’t entirely trust him. Ivan isn’t exactly known for his good intentions.”

“Ohoho, gossiping already?”

The pair turned at once, finding a smug looking Francis standing not far behind them.

“It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, soon-to-be Queen Arthur.” The Diamond royal grinned, reaching out and grabbing the Brit’s hand. Without a moment of hesitation, he bent down in a bow and placed kisses upon the back of the pirate’s hand. He failed to notice the look of disgust that crossed the pale man’s face as he did so. “You’re far more lovely in person, might I say.”

“I appreciate the thought.” Arthur muttered, pulling his hand away and instead wrapped it around one of Alfred’s arms.

The Diamond stood tall again, his eyes scanning over the pair for a moment, before another grin plastered his face. “I must congratulate you two. This has been a long time coming, and we have all been patiently waiting for your arrival. We were all shocked to hear that the Prince of Spades had gone missing. It had been so long that we all began to assume the worst. But, it is fortunate that you were in safe hands the entire time after all, hm?”

The blonde king held a strange look on his face that Arthur did not like very much. He looked like he knew something but was holding back, whatever it was.

“It is very fortunate. I was lucky to be under Arthur’s care.” Alfred spoke up, his gaze unwavering as he stared at the other man with a silent dare to question him.

“Ah, as I said. Safe hands.” The Diamond chuckled, lifting a glass of wine he plucked from a waiter’s tray and raising it to the couple before him. “Not many of us marked find happiness with their chosen half. It is a game of wars and lying that we play, there is not much room left over for love between the likes of us.”

That was true. Most kings and queens did not care for one another, tolerant of the other more often than not and friends at the best of times. If he remembered correctly, the Prince of Hearts found his to-be queen more of a platonic companion than anything. And while that was fine for him, it wasn’t what Alfred wanted for himself. It had been a true fear of Alfred's entire life. He wanted an actual relationship with his betrothed, not just a political one.

He had found that with Arthur.

“But,” The young king began again before either of them could reply. “It is nice when it happens. I wish you two the best of luck, you are a rare exception indeed.”

Francis smiled from behind his glass before taking his leave, walking towards a group of well dressed noblewomen with flirtation on his lips.

“Diamonds always were strange.” Arthur muttered, twisting his body so he was standing in front of the taller man now.

“You would think it was the Hearts that were so sappy.” Alfred offered, earning him a small chuckle from the shorter male as he wrapped his wine-free arm around his slight waist. Their bodies pressed together without hesitation.

“Do you believe what he says?” The Brit murmured softly, his lips grazing the soft skin of the other’s neck. “About us?”

“You mean that we are a rare exception? I mean, yeah...kind of. We are, aren’t we?” Came the prince’s soft reply, pressing his own lips into that pale hair. “I love you, more than anything. I can feel it in every part of me. Every time I look at you, I am overwhelmed with just how much I adore you.”

He grinned a cheesy smile against the other’s scalp, feeling the way the smaller body warmed up against him.

“So you say.” Arthur replied after a moment, pulling his face away and looking up at his betrothed with a questioning look.

Alfred just laughed, the sound ringing out into the space around them and lighting up the room in an instant. Several people turned and looked, only to be greeted by the sight of their prince staring warmly down at the man before him.

“It’s true, and I’ll keep telling you every day if I have to. I really do love you, sweetheart.” He grinned down at him knowingly, easily picking up on the light dusting of pink that tinted his queen’s face.

Arthur looked to the side, feigning interest in the dancers on the floor spinning in circles, as he sipped his wine.

“I could do for another dance.” The pirate said quietly, but that was all that was needed since they were pressed so intimately close.

“Whatever you want, honey. I’ll give you anything in the world.” The royal laughed again, softer this time, before he finished off his glass and beckoned a butler over to relieve them of the cups. With that out of the way, his newly freed hand intertwined with the slender fingers of Arthur’s as he pulled him back towards the dance floor.

Once more, eyes were on them.

It was almost normal now, all things considered. How each curious glance pointed their way, laced with fake acceptance. Arthur was beginning to almost revel in the disapproving stares.

Let them look.

Let them see how he was twirled around and dipped, kissed mercilessly upon his cheeks and neck as laughter fluttered from his chest.

Let them see how Alfred looked at him, and only him, proving the golden boy of The Spade’s Kingdom was all his.

Let them watch as their arms tightened as they grew closer and whispered together like young kids sneaking out together into the night.

It was scandalous. It was exciting. It was everything Arthur yearned for.

They twirled their way around the dance floor until the ball began to disperse, guests filing out slowly but surely as the night grew later. Some guests lingered, drinking one too many glasses of wine or attempting to coerce a fellow partier to be their bed mate for the evening.

Alfred and Arthur, however, stayed pressed close. The closer they got to the inevitable end of the ball, the sooner they would be separated. If they just danced a little more, drank and laughed just a bit longer, maybe the party would go on.

“I don’t want them to take you.” The prince whispered against his queen’s lips, his large hands enveloping his pale face on either side. “When I think of you all alone, chained up…gods I want to kill them.”

Arthur leaned his head slightly into one of the hands planted gently on the sides of his face, closing his eyes for a moment just to enjoy the feeling. “Who?” He asked quietly.

“Anyone who hurts you.”

A small chuckle rumbled out of the Brit and he opened his eyes again. Green blinked up to meet blue, silent for a few moments until a third voice broke the peace.

“Your Majesty and your Grace.” Blinking and looking to their side, both blondes were shocked to find the Prince of Hearts standing near them. “I wanted to introduce myself to the future queen, as I did not have the chance earlier. I am Ludwig, I hope we have a good relationship in the future between our countries.” He stated and it sounded so rehearsed it almost hurt to listen to. Still, he sounded sincere, in his own way.

“Oh hey, Lud. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. It’s been what? A couple years or more, at least?” Alfred chimed, a sunny grin growing on his features. “How have you been?”

For a moment, the stern look on the pale, blonde’s face softened a bit. “I have been well, thank you, Alfred. I am glad to see you back home safe and with your future queen. Things have not been easy for you, I know.”

The two continued to talk remarkably casually for two rival kingdom heirs, but Arthur hardly listened to a word they said. Instead, his gaze was hard and unyielding as he kept it on the young Heart.

It took a while for either of the two taller males to take notice of the odd silence, but when Alfred prompted for Arthur’s input on a funny joke he had just made and received no answer, he glanced down to find his lover stiff and peering darkly.

“Artie? Baby? What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, tightening an arm around his waist to pull the lithe body closer.

Still no answer, but now Ludwig’s attention was focused on the other man whose look was unwavering towards him. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes that Ludwig had been trained all his life to avoid.

“Your Grace,” Ludwig started slowly, eyes watching carefully. “Is something the matter?”

There was no reply for a moment, just blues on green, until Arthur opened his mouth without moving anything else.

“How could you?” His voice was surprisingly soft, a mere whisper between his lips. But his eyes hardened deeper and his face contorted into an angry sneer.

“What?” Ludwig blinked, confused.

Alfred’s arm tightened again, protective in its brace as he leaned slightly forward and towards the smaller man to look him in the face. “Huh? Artie doll, I think you’re confused. What do you think Lud did? He just got here.”

His concern was lost upon deaf ears, however.

“How could you?” He repeated, twisting his way out of Alfred’s arms so he could storm the short distance to the foreign leader with malice clearly written on his features. He only stopped when he was right in his face, scowling at him. He threw his hands in the air as if his question were obvious. “Just because of what he is! He is still your brother!” He yelled, shocking everyone left in the ballroom, including Alfred and Ludwig.

“My brother? What do you know of my brother?” The Heart Prince reached out and latched roughly onto Arthur’s upper arms, gripping him in such a vice it caused him to twist slightly to ease the pain. “If you know something then tell me!”

“Ludwig, let him go!” Alfred was by them in an instant, pushing between two colliding planets as he pulled them apart. He pried the foreigner’s hands off of his fiance and sandwiched himself between them, glaring daggers at the other man. “Hands off, Lud.” He growled, the warning clear in his voice.

By now, the commotion had stirred up the curiosity in the room. Every face was turned towards them, some excited to see the events take place between such high ranking individuals, others afraid for the aftermath of what could come from such an ordeal.

Not that they cared, the only eyes that mattered were the narrowed ones of the king as he stood up from his seat.

“Guards.” He spoke gruffly, motioning towards the three. “Seize the future queen and take him back to his room. Everyone else, out.” He ordered, watching as the armored men moved across the hall to do just that. The remaining guests did not need to be told twice and were bustling to get out of the room and away from the scene.

“Wait! It was just a misunderstanding, we can talk this through.” Alfred bellowed, instantly circling around to pull Arthur against his chest to shield him from the oncoming soldiers. “I’m not letting you take him there again, he doesn’t deserve it!”

He missed the confused and worried expression that crossed Ludwig’s face at that. What did that mean? More importantly, what had Arthur meant?

“Now, now, son. We’ve been through this.” The King said, his voice feigned innocence, but the venom dripped from each syllable. “I have been through this with your…beloved as well. He knows the consequences of his actions. It is such a shame, causing a ruckus in front of a crowd like that? What will your poor brother think knowing you caused him so much pain for something so trivial?”

Without hesitation, Arthur stiffened in Alfred’s arms. He had forgotten....how could he have forgotten? He let himself slip, he had told himself he wouldn't make a mistake. That he could do this right, for his brother! But his tongue was too ready to slice through egos and his hands too poised to strangle stuck up throats. He had let Peter down.

“Please, please, no, I’m sorry.” The Brit’s knees felt weak and he might have fallen down and begged for forgiveness, had Alfred not been holding him up so tightly. “Please, I can be better. I will be better. Just don’t hurt him!”

The arms around him pulled him ever closer and a warm breath fell onto his neck. He could hear the prince’s nervous breathing against the shell of his ear. His pleading must be hard for him to listen to.

“My, it’s too late for that, isn't it? You were told what would happen and yet you still acted out of line.” The elder royal’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Escort both the future queen and the prince to their rooms using any means necessary. Take Prince Ludwig back to the guest quarters, ensure he is treated with the utmost respect.”

With that, the guards advanced once more, but this time there were more than even Alfred could fight off alone. Arthur hung loosely, visibly devastated, in one arm as the other fought uselessly to keep the numbers off them.

The pirate hadn’t even put up a fight. Why should he? He would only make things worse for his brother if he did. He allowed the guards to drag him away, listening numbly to Alfred’s shouts growing dimmer and dimmer as they were forced apart once more.

[ai-katsuu]

Wonderland Ball (4/4)

Chapters: 1  2  3  4 

previous chapter 

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“Have you ever seen them fight like that?” Briar asked.

Hans shook his head, “Never. At least not in front of us. Either way, I think it’s safe to say this is the biggest fight they’ve ever had.” 

“And this isn’t just a meaningless fight, this is serious, about status.” Noki noted. 

“Not saying that it’s solely Jack, we’ve all had our fair share of nobility privilege,” Arthur referred to the rest of his F7 teammates, “but Jack has always had it bad. Next to his looks, status has always been important to him.”

“But that was before he met Audrey! Right..?” Goldie worriedly asked them.

“I have no doubt that Jack cares more about Audrey than either of the two, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t value those two things still.” Merlin said, “As bad as this fight is, it’s not enough to bring them down. Far from it.”

“Is it our business to get involved though?” Gretel crossed her arms concerned, “I mean as interesting as it was, we weren’t really supposed to be listening to their private conversation.”

“If they wanted to have a private conversation they shouldn’t have done it in the parlor. You know, where everyone hangs out.” Peter noted. 

Gretel looked at him, “Peter that’s not the poin-” 

“No- wait, he might be right.” Snow put her hand on Gretel’s shoulder. “We could say we overheard them and that would give us the excuse to talk to both of them.” 

“Are you sure it’s alright though, what if they don’t want us to get involved,” Pino said. 

“If they say so the first time then we stop.” Snow responded. 

Kio nodded,  “Let’s split up in half then, one to Audrey and the other to Jack. Is everyone okay with that?”

The rest agreed and they set off two find the other half. Merlin, Briar, Noki, Kio, Peter, and Gretel found Audrey in the center of the square garden, lying down by the fountain. It wasn’t that hard to find her, given that the garden is in the center of all three wings of the palace and the large glass walls made it easy for anyone in the hallways to see. The bun she had her hair in was now removed. Audrey let her fingers float on the surface of the running water, debating on just falling in and sleeping there for the night. 

That was impossible for one reason only, which is that in their wedding vows they had both said they would never go to bed angry at each other. But right now, she just wanted to take a short nap underwater though, like she always did when she was stressed. She shifted her weight to the edge of the fountain before a pair of hands stopped her. Annoyed and slightly alarmed, she looked to see who it was.

“I know you don’t get wet from it, but try not to fall in the water? You’re gonna ruin that dress, as well as your make-up.” Peter said. 

Audrey only frowned back, “What are you doing here?” 

“We’re trying to make sure you sleep in a warm, comfy bed, not with the fishes.” Merlin sat down next to her. Audrey sat up and saw Briar, Noki, Kio, and Gretel as well. 

She sighed, “And I supposed you all heard the whole thing?” 

“Kind of. Sorry.” Gretel admitted. 

Audrey shook her head. “It’s fine. It was the parlor, we shouldn’t have argued there.” Peter raised his head at Gretel and mouthed an ‘I told you so!’ to her.

“Audrey, we heard both sides of the argument, and you’re right.” Briar started, “I’ve gotten the opportunity to live both lives. Raised in a palace when I was younger and trapped in a cabin in the woods for the next half. They’re very different but both are nice ways of living.”

Gretel nodded, “Agreed. Though I retained my title after I left my palace I got the chance to live with commoners and it was wonderful. I appreciated all the sorts of traditions that were different from mine.”

“I’m more on the commoners' side, never liked royalty but I don’t hate its perks of it,” Peter added.

“Right? They’ve all experienced it, not just you.” Merlin smiled, to which Audrey returned the gesture, “And you know who else has experienced it?” 

Audrey chuckled, “You?” Merlin shook his head,

“Far from it, born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Try again.” 

“Well if not you then,” Audrey's smile faded as the realization hit her, “Jack…”

On the other side of the palace, Snow, Arthur, Hans, Gwen, Pino, and Goldie found Jack at the astronomy tower. He hated heights. That was a fact that everyone knew aside from him refusing to eat any sort of beans. But he had been so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t realize he was climbing the handleless open stairwell and was now sitting here stuck, in fear he might fall climbing back down. 

“This was literally the last place I thought we’d find you.” Arthur opened the wooden doors. 

“Oh thank heavens you’re here. Put that strength of yours to use and carry me down” Jack raised his arms up. 

Arthur laughed, “As much as I would love to humiliate you, that’s not why we’re here.” he gestured to the rest entering. 

“Hey...sorry to intrude.” Gwen offered a small smile. 

Jack shook his head, “It’s fine. I don’t like being here alone.” 

“So the fight really got to your head that much?” she asked. 

“You were listening?” he frowned.

“Well, even if we weren’t your voices were pretty loud. Heard it from down the hall.” Goldie said.

Jack's face had a hint of concern, “Was my voice that loud?” 

Goldie shook her head, “It was the both of you but that doesn’t matter now.”  

Pino sat beside him, “Jack, I’m sure even you must know you value all the nobility way too much. It’s not bad to live your life that way, but-”

“If it’s not that bad then she should live that way too. As her husband, I have a responsibility to give her the best life has to offer.” 

“That’s true but have you considered the thought that your ‘best’ may not be the same as her ‘best’?” Gwen told him. Jack was about to ask what she meant before he continued. “You and Audrey come from very different backgrounds. That may seem like something bad but the truth is, you always need to have a partner that is different than you. It keeps things balanced. It’s literally the fitting definition of the phrase ‘you complete me’.”

“You see Jack, there are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You'd think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true.” Pino told him, “You see, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists, well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground.”

“Yeah! I always try to calm Noki down when he’s being too much of a perfectionist, and he makes sure I don’t get killed trying new things out in the forest.” Goldie agreed

“Though in your case, I think both of you individually are dreamers and realists. Fifty-fifty.” Arthur said, “But regardless, Pino is right. It’s good that you’re having these fights because it will only make you understand each other better. Don’t go around picking fights though.” he quickly added.

“In order to understand her though, you really have to picture her whole life.” Snow gently said. “Her whole life she had to fend for herself, get her own food, make her own money...well she may not have always gotten these things the lawful way..but disregard that part.” 

“But that just proves my point though,” Jack looked at her, “I don’t want her to live that way where she has to risk her life just to eat.” 

“” Risking her life’ is exaggerating a bit, but I get what you mean. But has it ever occurred to you that because she grew up with that lifestyle, she doesn’t want to let it go? It would be like losing a bit of her past.” Snow told him. 

“It was much too easy for you, Jack.” Hans said, “You left your old life behind as soon as the doors of nobility were open to you. Nothing wrong with that but since you were once a commoner, don’t you think you of all people should make an effort to see where she’s coming from?”

“He was a farmer, right?” Audrey asked Merlin to which he nodded.

“He made news of the prince who went from Rags to Riches. He was the first prince I invited to join the F7,” he told her. 

“Before that, he was very hardworking though. He would work the grounds and fields ordered by his uncle. Dawn to dusk.” Noki said. 

“He didn’t have much to get by with, only enough to feed them both,” Kio added. 

Each word they said only made Audrey feel worse as she replayed the last thing she said to Jack. She felt stupid and inconsiderate. He had only lightly mentioned his past before he became a prince, but he never went in too deep with it; she never pushed on it either. 

“So that’s why he was so obsessed with nobility and riches...it was something he was deprived of and what he longed for when he was younger.” Audrey looked down in shame. 

“He may not have said it well, but he does have the best intentions for you.” Gretel told her, “I think he just needs a bit of time to understand the social equality and rights between classes.”

“You guys are human, you both made mistakes. Communication is important more than ever in times like these. You should go look for him.”  Briar told Audrey.

“But how do I even apologize to her?” Jack asked Gwen, “I said all those things to her face...I basically insulted her as a person.” he cringed at himself.

“Just talk to her as you always have,” Gwen told him, “Talk to her gently. If she needs to vent then let her. As her husband, you need to listen to her.” 

“I don’t know if I can even make it through him venting.” Audrey ran her fingers through her hair at Kio’s suggestion. 

Merlin laughed, “If you start crying then Jack will drop everything he’s doing. You have nothing to worry about.” 

“Go find him.”

“Go find her.” 

Before thanking them with a smile, Audrey ran out of the garden into the palace halls. Jack burst through the doors of the astronomy tower, although hesitated when he was a few steps down, but was then given a literal push by Arthur as he ran down the steps. Audrey tried her best to run in her Christmas heels, and her hair was beyond fixed now, but she didn’t notice until she saw Jack turn the corner. 

“Jack!

“Audrey..!”

“I’m sorry!” they both said as they stopped just a meter from each other. Both of their faces red and sweaty from running and exhaustion.

“Jack, I’m sorry I said that. I should’ve known you of all people knew what commoners go through and you had such a rough time so of cour-”

“No! Audrey, please don’t say that!” Jack put his hands out, “I was stupid and inconsiderate and I should know better than to insult how you lived. I may not understand how both classes are the same but if you say so then it must be true. I promise I’ll try my best to understand. You’ve lived as a commoner your whole life and you turned out to be the person I fell in love with. So you’re right, they’re not as bad as I say they are. I shouldn’t have said those awful things.”

“Oh, Jack, I,” Audrey paused from his words, unsure what to say except, “I love you. I love you, Jack. I’m so sorry we had this fight.” 

“No, no, it’s alright. This is a good thing.” he assured her as he pulled her in his arms, “I love you as well.”

She looked up at him, “So are we okay?” 

Jack chuckled, “I should be asking you that.” 

“Of course I am!” she laughed. Jack, happy to hear it again, easily lifted her up and spun her around the halls as their laughter filled the halls. 

“You look lovely in your dress by the way, it’s not often I get to see you all dressed up.” Jack noted.

“Right?! Isabella made it for me, she even picked out these shoes for me,” Audrey lifted her heels.

“I know, they’re fabulous.” 

At the end of the hallway by the corner was a relieved group of princes and princesses, happy that this finally all came to an end.