#If anyone wants to give me feedback about anything that feels wrong about the brit bros I would very

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Character Profile - Scotland

Character Name: Scotland. The Kingdom of Scotland. Alba. Alasdair Kirkpatrick. Alexander Kirkland. Alexander Kirk. Alasdair Kirkwood. Alasdair Kirkland. Uncle Alasdair.

Age: 10-12 upon the Roman invasion of the 1st century. 18-20 by 1300. Late 30s, early 40s modern day..

Height: 6'0/182cm.

Physical Description: Tall and musclebound, Alasdair was a warrior and his body still shows it. Broad-shouldered and strong-jawed, the transition from fighter to the financial brain of the British empire matches a large man with surprising grace and dexterity. He carries himself equally well in a boardroom as on a battlefield. The most classically handsome of his brothers but the least agriculturally valuable, he was locked in a triangle with his youngest brother and Francis for centuries, riding on his good looks for much of it. He also contributed much to his brother's children and added enough, especially to Canada. He made the lad damn near a strawberry blonde. He's getting a bit softer in middle age but still easily caber tosses the entire family on a human's strength if permitted. He's got a bit of a grumpy look to him sometimes, but he's also extremely tender-hearted if brusque with those he shares affection with, and those people know what his body language conveys, if subtly.

Eye colour: Blue-green-grey. A bit muddled and changeful like the churning clouds and waters of the highlands.

Hair colour/style: Red-brown curls. The shade of brown you can't tell is red or brown even in bright light. He wears it just long enough to show off the curl too it and often with a matching beard. Arthur is the one more often at sea, but Alasdair often looks like the quintessential seacaptain.

Other distinguishing physical traits: The family brows. Has a smattering of old war wounds that especially act up when he and Arthur are arguing. He and Brighid are also the source of the family dimples but Alasdair has to be positively grinning for them to show.

Personal Appearance/Style: A lot of sweaters, boots and trousers. When he put down the broad sword and picked up the abacus, he became quite interested in finer things and figured if he was stuck in this union with Arthur and Rhys, he might as well get something out of it. He's generally found in quite dull greens, browns and countrymen clothes these days but was once very fond of French fashion. He only wears a kilt on special occasions. Instead of having his own clan tartan or even wearing the national one, he most often wears a woad-blue and white plaid he remembers his mother having a cloak of.

Verbal Style: He can switch between various Scottish accents fairly well, lowland and highland alike. It gets thicker when he's speaking to Arthur to piss him off and when he speaks French because it makes Francis practically swoon. His Latin isn't a good as Brighid's in the modern day, but he's still pretty good with it; he learned languages as needed, especially as the sciences grew through history. Whatever the language of education is, he'll be fluent quickly. An interest in chemistry brought him to modernize his German; he's always loved reading in French.

Level of Education: This is almost impossible to quantify. He was the first country in the world to make education mandatory in the 15th century. He was meant from birth to be a warrior and he was very good at it with there hardly being anyone mortal who could challenge him sword to sword by the time he was as tall as the sword itself, but he was always in his heart more of a druid and a scholar. He's gotten so many degrees and learned so much over his life span its a little insane. And barring Alfred, he was largely in charge of educating Arthur's children. He's an absolute powerhouse at the sciences and maths but loves a good poem too. Physics, chemistry and pharmacy are his specialties and an incredible knowledge of medicine is still building in his head. He's also, of the British isle siblings, the best with money. Arthur is no slouch either but its Alasdair's running of the family money that they scrambled themselves out of poverty several times over before ever having any real international power. Once that started up, he was the real brains behind the money-making.

Occupation: Diplomat, surgeon, financial something or another.

Past Occupations: Doctor, surgeon, cattle raider, financial planner, merchant, trader, fur trapper, teacher, writer, artist, professor, soldier, crofter, farmer, fisherman, sea captain, shipwright, engineer, weaver, banker, etc.

Skills, Abilities or Talents: He's got the brawn to match his brains and is an incredible hand-to-hand fighter. He's a mental math whizz and has memorized almost everything written in Gaelic in the last 100 years. He knows practically all the major scientific disciplines back to front and their experiments and research patterns. He's probably more resistant to cold than Rhys or Arthur. Like all of his siblings,

Admirable Personality Traits: Innovative, resourceful, blunt, nurturing in a crabby sort of way, friendly, reliable, bold and practical.

Negative Personality Traits: Stubborn, impatient, grumpy, taciturn, reserved, slightly superstitious despite his incredible knowledge.

Sense of Humor: Dark, dry, direct, observational, sardonic, pawky.

Physical/Mental illness or affliction: He's probably the least mentally fucked of all his siblings, but that's not saying much. His liver is about as virgin as a dockside brothel. He's got a lot of old war wounds, but only a few bother him, and even then, he's not one to wallow.

Hobbies/Interests: Reading, engineering, hunting, hiking, caber toss, golf, building ill-advised machines with Alfred in the garage.

Favourite Foods: If its fried, he'll fucking love it. He might be the only person on earth who likes Alfred's food as much as Alfred's. He loves Cullen skink, cured meats and cheeses, kedgeree, cranachan, scotch pie or any meat pie, and he'll still pile on rowan jelly on porridge for breakfast. Whisky, of course.

Most important personal item: The torc and penannular brooch his mother gave him is in the national museum, and he has a kilt pin with a chunk of diamond Francis gave him in the 13th century.

Person/friend close to character: He's somehow close to his brothers, all things considered, but he's also on the best terms with Brighid, and they tend to talk more than Brighid does with the other two. He's very close to Arthur if only because they figured out they could control a lot more power and money if they worked together. An uneasy but extremely effective relationship there. And because the Americans will reblog and add a paragraph about how special Scotland is to America if I spent more than five words on Canada, Alasdair played an outsize role in raising Matt. but yes, he's very close to Alfred, who is fascinated with all things Scottish and has the same kind of brain Alasdair does. The Appalachian mountains used to have the same range as the highlands, and the way it was peopled rather shows it.

Brief family history: He was the second child and first son of Brigantia/Brittania in the pre-roman period. He's about 200-300 years younger than Brighid and maybe 400-500 years older than Rhys and Arthur. His relationship with his siblings is complicated but generally more positive than Brighid's. His brother's children are important in his life.

Most painful experiences in the character’s past: Probably the Jacobite uprisings and the rough wooing, and god, they're 2,000 years old. There's so much shit here. The civil wars? Elizabeth I hacking Mary Stuart's head off??? He's seen famine, plague, two world wars, and god knows what else.

Their Song: Julie Fowlis - Dh’èirich Mi Moch Madainn Cheòthar

[desdinovas]

award show || brad simpson

not my gif

pairing: Brad Simpson x Female Reader

word count: 2,031

notes: got this request a few weeks ago and it’s probs my fav thing anyone has requested so far, hope this is good enough

“Brad, this is literally the millionth suit you’ve tried on today,” you pointed out from your place on your shared bed.

You actually didn’t mind helping him with his outfit at all. Watching him try suit after suit, one looking better than the other on him. I mean, who wouldn’t want to see that? Ever since he found out his band would be attending the Brits, he got way too excited about it and wanted everything to be perfect that night. And that includes, of course, his outfit.

“I know, love, but none of them are good enough.” Brad argued back as he studied his reflection in the mirror standing in front of him.

“You look amazing in all of them.” You stood up from the bed and walked towards him, hugging him from behind and standing on your tiptoes so you could let your chin rest on his shoulder.

“I’m still not convinced,” he said as he scanned his wardrobe.

A few seconds passed before his eyes landed on a very unusual suit. He had actually forgotten he bought that one. It was an impulsive buy and he never got the chance to wear it —mainly because he tossed it to the back of his wardrobe as soon as he came back from the store, making him totally forget about its existence.

“How about this one?” Brad asked as he took it out from the closet and started analysing it.

“Isn’t it a little too bright?” You asked back with furrowed brows. Oh, did I forget to mention the suit was bright red?

“Yeah, but Con told me he’s wearing a red suit as well so maybe we could match.” Brad shrugged.

“I thought I was your date to the red carpet.” You teased, pretending to be hurt by his words.

Brad chuckled under his breath and turned his head to kiss your cheek. “You’re wearing a white dress, right?” He asked even though he already knew the answer since you went dress shopping with him and it was him who ended up choosing it.

You nodded your head a bit confused, not knowing where he was going. “Then I’ll pin a little white rose on my suit. That way we’ll be matching.” Brad explained as he winked an eye at you.

You gave him a smile and he got himself into the bathroom to try on the red suit. Although there was no need to bother on going to the bathroom to get changed —since you’ve seen each other naked like a million times— he wanted to surprise you with the final result, rather than watching him during the process of getting dressed. Why? Because he absolutely loves your reactions.

“So? What do you think?” Brad asked as he stepped out of the bathroom. What he didn’t know this time was that your jaw would literally drop once your eyes fell on him.

“Holy fucking shit.” Was all you could say.

Your eyes were wide as you studied every single detail, not once finding a flaw. How can someone be this hot without even trying? He was wearing a black shirt while the rest of the suit —including his tie— was red.

“Is it that bad?” Brad asked at the lack of feedback from you.

You blinked a few times before answering; “are you kidding me? You look unbelievably handsome.”

“Do you think so?” He questioned as he stood in front of the mirror, carefully studying his reflection with his nose wrinkled. “Isn’t the colour a bit extravagant?”

“I mean, I thought that too.” You began, not being able to stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his bum. But he doesn’t have to know that. “But that was before I saw it on you. Bloody hell, red is definitely your colour.”

“Are you sure?” Brad asked again, and that was enough to tell you that he was insecure about it.

“Absolutely,” you nodded your head. “Red is definitely my new favourite colour after seeing it on you.” You said in all honesty and he gave you a small smile. “Look, if you’re not wearing that to the awards then I’ll be very disappointed.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces almost touching. “Trust me, you look amazing.”

“Babe, do you think I should wear my-“ Brad stopped in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on you. “Oh, my good God.” He gasped.

You turned around as you finished applying your makeup and gave Brad a confused look once your eyes met his. “What? What is it?”

Brad shook his head repeatedly. “Nothing, it’s just that my girlfriend is the hottest thing in the world. That’s all.”

You could literally feel your cheeks going red as you shot him a small smile. “Stop.” How did he manage to make you feel like an actual school girl?

“No, I’m serious.” He said as he walked closer to you and placed a hand on your waist. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

You smiled again and pecked his lips. “You don’t have to win me over. We’re already dating, you know.” You joked before stroking the few curls growing on the back of his head.

“Just speaking the truth,” he said giving you a cheeky grin that always sends you flying —and today was no exception. He leaned over to catch your lips in his, smiling into the kiss.

“What were you about to ask me?” You panted as soon as you broke apart from the kiss.

“Oh, right.” Brad nodded his head, remembering why he went into the bedroom in the first place. “Should I wear my glasses to the awards? Because I figured I won’t be able to see shit from our seats.”

“Of course you should, baby.” He smiled at the pet name. “Why shouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he hesitated his next words. “Do you think they make me look dorky?” He asked with the most adorable concerned look. He was so insecure about everything lately, you just wanted to sit down with him and lecture him on how perfect he is.

You shot him a warm smile as you stroked his right cheek with your thumb. “No, Brad.” You reassured him. “If anything, they make you look even more cute than you already are.”

Brad frowned at your last sentence. “We’ve been through this, darling. I’m not cute, I’m a man.”

“Fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him and decided to tease him a little bit more. “You’re a cute man, happy now?”

“That is not what I meant.”

You jumped into the limo that was waiting for the two of you outside of your house and greeted the rest of the band, who were already there.

“You look great, (y/n).” James said as he shot you a smile.

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

“Hey, watch it.” Brad playfully said in a warning tone. “She’s my girl.” He glared at James. And although he was kidding, everyone knew there was a bit of truth in his words.

A few minutes went by before you felt Brad shifting on his seat beside you and making quiet noises. You turned your head to be met by him frantically touching his blazer.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just trying to pin the rose,” Brad answered with his brows furrowed. (p.s here’s a video to give y’all an idea bc me writing about it doesn’t do how cute he is any justice)

“Need some help?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on your face. “Seems like you could poke yourself any minute now.”

“Please,” he whined and you laughed at how adorable he was. You took the little white rose in your hands and pinned it to his suit soon enough. “Thank you, love.” He smiled before kissing the top of your head.

“We’re here.” Connor announced and the five of you hopped off the limo to be met by a huge wave of cameras flashing at you.

Brad’s arm was immediately around your waist and tightly holding you close to him in a protective way. You tried to ignore all the questions the paparazzi were asking you as you made your way towards the red carpet.

Brad turned to you and your eyes finally met his. He gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna go take some pictures with the boys. I won’t be long, okay?” He gently stroked your cheek with his hand.

You just nodded your head and watched him join the rest of the band on the red carpet while you stood where all the paparazzi and interviewers were standing. You watched the boys pose for an awful lot of different cameras and started wondering how it was possible for one human being to be so good looking without even trying. Brad was literally just standing there doing absolutely nothing but faintly smile, and yet it was the most beautiful thing your eyes have ever seen.

“C’mere, baby.” Brad rushed to where you were standing and you shook your head, trying to get rid of your thoughts.

You intertwined your fingers with his and he guided you to the red carpet. Your eyes wandered to look for the boys and soon you found them talking to an interviewer. Brad wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head down so he was whispering in your ear. “Just relax, okay? I’m here.”

You faintly nodded your head and took a deep breath just before the flash from all the cameras started blinding you.

You tried to smile at a numerous amount of cameras so you wouldn’t be looking at the same one all the time, but it was quite hard to figure which camera you were looking at with all those bright lights shining into your eyes. Brad leaned in to kiss your cheek and you subconsciously closed your eyes and smiled. The sound of various cameras shooting was heard and you made a mental note to yourself to look for that picture online later.

After a few more seconds of posing, Brad squeezed your waist gently and walked you over to where the boys were talking with the interviewers.

Just as you two stopped beside the boys, the middle aged woman who was interviewing them smiled before saying, “here they are! We were just talking about how cute you guys are.”

Brad smiled as a light shade of pink coloured his cheeks. “Thank you. Although, I must say, she takes all the credit.” He said while turning to give you a sweet smile as his hand gently stroked your waist.

You just smiled back at him, hoping the camera behind the woman wouldn’t be able to capture your flushed cheeks.

“You two have been dating for quite a while now, does it ever get hard when it comes to the distance?” She asked before placing her microphone in front of Brad for him to answer.

“Distance is definitely hard,” he began. “But we’re determined to make this work, so we try not to make it such a big of a deal, you know? Whenever I’m away for tour one of us is always trying to find some time to visit the other one.” He concluded with a sided smile.

You just kept smiling the entire time, not feeling the need to answer the questions. They were all aimed for Brad anyways.

“You must really love each other.”

“Yeah,” Brad nodded with a huge smile as he looked down at you. “I love her, she’s great.” You looked up to smile back at him.

After the boys were done with the interviews you all proceeded to the actual award show. Once you were sat in your designated seats, Brad placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a little squeeze.

“You were great, darling.”

“I just smiled the whole time.” You chuckled as your eyes met his.

“And that’s enough,” he said with a reassuring smile and you went to peck his lips. “Did I tell you how bloody stunning you look tonight?”

You shot him a wide smile. “Only about a thousand times.” You teased.

“Well, here goes again; you look absolutely stunning.” You just smiled as your eyes were still locked with his. “I love you, babe.”

I’m also leaving a few pictures of him on that goddamn red carpet cause holy mother of god, this boy is a snack lol who am I kidding he’s a motherfucking full course meal

[mildlymaddy]

Yearly (Belated) Review

Alright, there it is. My answers to the Yearly Review meme. Honestly I found this SO HARD. Not only was it hard to find positive things to say about my writing, but also I don’t remember anything of what I wrote last year? It’s hard to answer these questions if you don’t even remember any detail about your own fics.

It’s really weird because I take so much pride in my actual job, like I know I’m good at it, I know exactly what I’m good at, I could answer all the questions in the world about it. I also think that I’m a really good beta reader, like I’ve never found anybody else like me? Someone who will actually nag at you and go deep and force you to rework stuff and get even better. All of this, I can easily see and appreciate. But my personal writing? UGH. Nothing to keep, throw it all away please.

Writing this was really painful for me, when it seems to have been so much fun for everyone else (as it should be, because y’all are so fucking talented and I’m glad you realize it)... but you know what, soldiering through actually helped me take a step back and force myself to see what was good about my writing. I’m incredibly grateful for it.

1. List of works published this year:

This one at least is easy, you can find the list here.

Except that I forgot my original ficlet I wrote, a soft lesbian summer haze story inspired by some Danielle Campbell photos! It’s there and I think only two people in the world have read it but I really like it.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Hahahahahahahahaha…. hahahaha… haaaa.

Sorry.

Um.

I guess, maybe, the Lilo Brits verse? Because it’s like, one of the more “serious”, angsty things I’ve written (and La helped me make it good).

I guess it’s pretty clear I have a real big problem about thinking “happy” fic is meaningless, which is kind of a downer considering it’s almost all I write (and probably what I’m best at).

Oh, okay, I’ve just re-read that ghost!Liam lirry fic and it’s surprisingly nice. I guess I like the way it’s a total crackfic and yet it’s very tender and bittersweet. I can grant myself that. :)

And now that I’ve found back that Danielle fic I linked to above, I can honestly say that I’m super proud of it. I’m proud of how soft it is, and how tentative, and I just… I really like how poetic it is? The words came out exactly as I wanted them to. I really love it.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Most of them? Like, they’re okay, but most could have been infinitely better if I’d just forgotten about them for a bit and come back to them with fresh eyes, instead of posting them straight away. There’s stuff that people loved that I’m re-reading today and I literally cringe thinking of how much better they could/should have been.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I couldn’t say. Like, it’s not just that I’m super harsh on my writing, but how am I supposed to remember everything I wrote?? The way you guys all managed to answer this one is what baffled me the most, because I legitimately cannot do it. I’d have to re-read everything I posted (and even then I probably wouldn’t like anything enough to think it’s worth quoting here).

But one thing I can say is that I have a huge soft spot for my Lilo fairy verse. It’s not the most amazing thing in the land but I think Louis as a fairy works really, really well, and it’s just silly and happy and I’m glad I wrote it. :)

 5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

This one is surprisingly hard to answer! I mean, obviously, @catateme9 is the most supporting reader and friend anyone could wish for, by far. The way you boost authors you like is heartwarming, and shows that you don’t need to actually put out material to be a vital part of the fandom. <3

I’m also just really grateful when people yell at me in their reblog tags, which happens often, it’s probably the most satisfactory feedback anyone can get.

I’m sorry, I feel bad for not being able to recall a really good one, I just… any kind of feedback makes my day. I cherish each and every comment/tag/message I get about my fics, so it’s just impossible to pick one.

 6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Honestly ask me for a time when writing was easy, it’ll be easier to pinpoint. Writing is torture, all the fucking time. But some of the random ficlets I wrote in bed were wonderful gifts, sudden unexpected inspiration that I managed to see through in one sitting.

But writing has been especially hard for the past couple months, I have to say. I used to constantly daydream about my plots and now there’s only static in my brain.

 7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I guess all the het fic I wrote. I’ve always written exclusively slash, even back in my HP days (the only Hermione/Ron fic I can remember writing was PG, I couldn’t stomach the idea of writing a sex scene). I think because for a long time I wanted to get as far away from heterosexuality as I could. I guess me writing all those elounor, or elounorexha, or louelle fics shows my own real life path towards accepting I’m bi and that there’s nothing wrong with “het” sex.

 8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I don’t think I grew at all. Queen of stagnation, that’s me. 😞

 9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I… don’t know? Maybe just… learn to give myself more credit? Be as kind to myself as I am to other writers? Oh and also if I could stop comparing myself to all of you and feeling terrible because I’ll never be half as talented, that’d be nice.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@ferryboatpeak will never not be wonderful. She uses both the carrot and the stick to keep me on track (or tries to, at least), and she’s also sent me some DELIGHTFUL things to beta, for which I’m always so grateful because honestly, reading her stuff and then seeing her turn my suggestions into gold is a fucking privilege.

To be fair, I have a lot of incredibly talented writers as friends. You’re all inspirations in some way, but I’ll mention 3 writers that have really stood out for me this year (please don’t get offended if you’re not in the list you KNOW how much I admire and love all of you, omg, so much!!)

@queerlyalex the sheer range of what you write, and the softness with which you tackle tricky subjects, is absolutely incredible. Your fics aren’t only perfectly written, they’re also so enlightening, and eye-opening, and as someone who was very very clueless before I joined Tumblr, they’ve been a wonderful, soft way of truly realizing there is so much more than what I’ve experienced, and getting my head around some stuff. I feel so incredibly grateful to be your friend.

@polaroidgirlfriend, I’m sorry I haven’t yet read your fionrry, but I still think about your university Narry fic all the time. I’m still floored by how perfect and honest it was, you have a way of… of getting at hidden, unspoken human emotions that is so gentle and yet so uncompromising, it’s a testament to your beautiful soul.

@1000-directions, your love for the boys’ girlfriends (and friends, like Bebe) is the most heartwarming thing ever, and I’m so happy you’re constantly putting out these empowering, woman-positive slices of life out into the fandom world. We need more people like you here. I also love what you said about learning to write for yourself and not caring about how niche something is, that is something I could dearly do with.

I think it’s telling that the three people I’ve picked out have that one thing in common, your way of gently dissecting relationships to get to the heart of them, unflinchingly uncovering the good and the bad bits. You somehow all manage to depict love as a bloody beating heart, both beautiful and terrible, soft and ragged, full of hope and despair, and I just… love this so much about you. There’s a line in one of my fics (that sounds so pretentious omg) which goes “so she’ll stop cutting his heart open as softly as if it was a peach”, and that just really sums it up. I only wrote that one sentence, but y’all actually do it in every one of your fics, and I’m just... in total awe of you. ♥♥♥

 11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Pretty much everything I write is about me. I get sick? I’ll write some sickfic. I’m super tired? Louis can’t seem to get any sleep. Little gestures I love end up in my stories. Things I crave end up in my stories. Often I’m embarrassed about just how much my stories are a reflection of myself, to be honest. I’m an open book.

 12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I’ll share wisdom from my actual job : do not cling to your ideas. It doesn’t matter how cute/sexy/well written that paragraph is, or how brilliant that idea is, if it doesn’t fit with the rest of the story or if it’s blocking you up, GET RID OF IT. Seriously. Being able to just delete chunks of your own writing when you realize it’s not serving your story will save you a lot of pain and time.

 13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Any of my WIPs, god, please. I started so many things and they fell through the wayside and I feel so guilty and gutted about it.

The most important thing of all would be finishing Take These Chances, because I still get comments on it from time to time and I’ve dropped it just before Louis and Liam finally realized they were in love and it’s just… it’s terrible. I want to finish it, I just don’t know how to make myself do it.

But I also have that summer heat nouis fic, puppy/kitten lilo, the lilourry mermaid thing, lilo new year’s kiss, another lilo fic about kisses in which liam must kiss louis every hour to make up for waking him up early, the nouis watching Stranger Things, a new installment of caldell highschool au, that hendes fic, a steamy Elouelle ficlet, the follow-up to the sleep-deprived Louis fic… all of these are half-written or more, they just need a little more work, but I can’t. seem. to do it!

If anyone’s got idea on how to motivate me through this, I’m ready to hear them.

 14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

I don’t need to tag anyone, you’ve all done it already (and they were a joy to read). ^_^

[faith-in-dean]

Broken Trust - Part Seven (END)

Summary: From what you’ve been told the British Men of Letters weren’t people you would really like. Though you didn’t expect to get that caught up with one of them, breaking the Winchester’s trust with your actions.

Words: 2496

Pairing: Arthur (Mr.) Ketch x Reader

Warnings: Angst, I’ll put another warning at the end of the tags. I just don’t want to spoil the story for ya. If you think you could possibly be triggered by something please go check.

A/N: So This is the very last part of this series and it kinda saddens me, to be honest, BUT I can tell you that I could write a one-part sequel if you guys want me to, just let me know! Feedback Is Appreciated!

Masterpost

You were surprised when Dean had opened the garage to the bunker for you and let you inside. He had called Sam over before the three of you sat together in the library.

At first, neither one of you had said anything. You didn’t know where to start and you knew Dean, he wouldn’t start the conversation either, so Sam did it.

“I’m glad to see you again,” he smiled slightly, trying to ease the situation a little.

“I’m glad, too,” you nodded and took a deep breath, “I’m sorry I haven’t told you the very first moment I started meeting with Ketch. I know you have your history with the British Men of Letters but honestly… Arthur is different than that. I’ve got to know him so well. I wish you could only give him that chance. But I’m not here to talk about them but about us. I miss you both. You are like the brothers I never had and the past weeks have been stressing me out. You had every right to be mad at me but please I’m begging now… forgive me,” you begged them.

“You still have something with Ketch, do you?” Dean had asked.

“Yes… yes, I do. But I swear he is not forcing me to recruit you or anything. He doesn’t have anything to do with this at all. I just want you to forgive me and maybe let me stay here again for a couple of days. Maybe to talk this out from time to time… I just really want my brothers back,” you did your best to hold back your tears and Dean seemed to have noticed as he got up and walked over to you, pulling you up and into a hug.

“Alright kiddo. But no lies anymore from now on, okay?” he gently said.

“Okay,” you nodded and were happy you had your brothers back. At least that would let your mind rest for now.

“But tell me… the colt… did you give it back to them?” Dean asked and you remembered why. The first night you had met the British Men of Letters Sam had given you the colt, knowing you didn’t have anything to do with them anyways and therefore it would’ve been the safest with you.

“No. It’s in my room. That’s the only thing I left here when I left,” you answered and Dean nodded before hugging you once again.

~~~

At first, you thought your nausea only came from the thought of Mary and Ketch being together before you, but as time went by and it wouldn’t go away you already knew your situation could go very wrong if it was what you expected.

That was the reason you found yourself locked in the bathroom, staring down at the test as you were waiting for a result. You haven’t told anyone about your presumptions. You just didn’t want to drive them crazy for no reason. But even if this test turned out positive, you didn’t know how you would tell them all or if you would tell them in the first place.

The whole situation has been nerve wrecking like hell and you wished for nothing more than to have somebody with you, but it was for the best to be alone for now.

You noticed how the test stopped blinking and you were almost afraid to look but you did it anyways. Though you wished you didn’t.

It was positive, meaning you were pregnant. It felt like a world was shattering for you. You didn’t even know Ketch for two months, how could you have been so stupid and not wrap it up during sex?!

Now you were caught in a very shitty situation and you didn’t know how to get out. Of course, you could run away but either way, Ketch would find you anyway or you couldn’t even cope with raising a baby on your own.

Though how long were you going to keep it a secret from him? You didn’t know. What you knew though was that you needed to get it off your chest, so you went looking for Mary. Despite her past with Ketch.

“Mary can I talk to you for a moment?” you asked as you quietly knocked on her bedroom door.

“Of course, come in,” she replied and you entered, closing the door behind you and sighing a little. Just what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

“Please don’t freak out because I sure am freaking out and I need someone to be calm about this, but I’m pregnant with Arthur’s baby,” you said and sounded so desperate. This was your own fault so you shouldn’t even feel bad about it.

“Well, first breathe. Second, does he know?” Mary asked and got up to rub your back a little.

“No… and please don’t tell him or anyone. I will do so when the time is right,” you sighed a little.

“Okay, I won’t. Try to rest a bit and empty your mind, maybe it will be easier for you to think about it afterwards,” Mary had said and promised. Little did you know that she would break that promise again.

~~~

You were woken up with a call from Ketch. It must have been way too early but you had seen that he had called you a couple of times already.

“What’s wrong?” you murmured once you finally picked up and rubbed your eyes a little. You were still tired and wanted nothing more than your sleep.

“Can you please come over? There is something I have to show you,” he said in his normal voice, yet there was something telling you not everything seemed to be okay.

“You just woke me up… can’t it wait for a few more hours,” you grumbled a little.

“I need you to be here as soon as possible,” Arthur replied without any further explanations.

“Fine,” you sighed a little and then hung up before you slowly dragged yourself out of your bed.

~~~

It has still taken you a good hour until you finally arrived at the base of the Brits. The guard let you go through, though he gave you some weird looks. You could already see Arthur standing at the entrance of the garage, practically waiting for you.

He had opened your door and helped you out of the car, but the way he looked at you told you no good at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked and you were confused as to what he meant at first.

“Come on, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he sighed a little. That’s when you knew he was talking about your pregnancy. But how did he… Mary. She must’ve told either way him or Mitch but that didn’t matter. He knew after all and that was what mattered.

“I just found out yesterday… I only told Mary…” you shook your head a little.

“You should have told me and only me. Now come on. The old men have ordered a meeting,” Ketch said before he held his hand out to you, for the very first time since the two of you have been a thing.

Who were the old men and why did you have to be in a meeting with them? You didn’t understand anything and surely did not want to.

You had listened to them talk business for some minutes before the pretty much interesting part for you started.

“We have sent you to America to recruit the Winchesters. We have not sent you there to find a lover and make a baby. You disappointed us, Ketch,” one of the old men said.

“A helicopter will come pick you and her up and bring you over to London so we can take care of you and the mess you’ve made,” another one said before the line on the internet call broke.

“Go to London? I can’t go to London!” you exclaimed and looked at the team in disbelief.

“You should have thought about that beforehand,” Mick simply said before leaving the room as well as the rest of the team so now it was only Ketch and you.

“What are they going to do?” you asked with slight fear in your eyes.

“They’re not going to do anything to you, darling,” he kissed the top of your head gently.

“And what about you?” you were terrified of not knowing what was going to happen to any of you.

“Well, the British Men of Letters have their ways of dealing with people who haven’t gone exactly like plan. I will not be any different. But don’t you worry about me,” he tried to sound calming, but how were you not going to worry about him? After all, he was the one you loved, he was the father of your unborn child and he was going to be the only one you know if they were serious about bringing you to London.

And they were. As soon as the helicopter had arrived, they had loaded you and Ketch in and took off. You felt nauseous, you wanted to cry and just wanted this nightmare to stop. Why couldn’t they just let you and him be? After all, it is his own decision if he wants to get with someone. Yet you also couldn’t forget how Mary betrayed you once again. How have you ever wronged her? What have you ever done that made her want to destroy you so much? You didn’t know.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye to Sam and Dean and it broke you, considering you were just starting to get along again.

The flight has been horrifically long. At one time you had just passed out sleeping and didn’t wake up until you arrived in London. Though it wasn’t that kind of London you had always expected when you thought about it.

Well, when you thought about ever going there you had thought about happier circumstances. Now you were just brought into a base and got separated from Ketch. You protested, did your best to fight against the men that were carrying you away but they were much stronger than you.

“Just let them do it,” Ketch had told you before they had shoved him into a different room.

You couldn’t believe it. All of this simply because of a baby? What kind of organization were they?

“Now, Y/N. You are probably wondering why we had you escorted to our base out here in London,” you remembered that voice from the internet call. It was one of the old men, though he had not revealed his identity.

“Normally, we welcome babies in our community with a big heart. Yet, you are different. Not only are you American, but you are also not a part of the British Men of Letters. And we can’t accept this. We can’t have a baby that doesn’t belong to our community and I hope you understand that,” he said.

“And we will never be part of your stupid community,” you hissed at them. You were upset. They had Ketch and you didn’t know what they were doing to him, they would probably force you into being a part of them and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t tell the Winchester’s because even this would be too much for them. Hopefully, Mary was happy with what she has done.

“Well, that is just very unfortunate. You know where to bring her. We’ll check in on her tomorrow,” another voice said before you were dragged off and pushed into a room that had not much in it except for a bed, a sink, a toilet and a desk with a chair. And here you were supposed to stay forever? Cause there was no way you would ever become one of them. Not after what they have done now and in the past.

Hours and hours have passed but you weren’t tired. Through a very tiny window, you could see that it was dark outside, but it must’ve been the jetlag that left you awake. You hadn’t even moved from your bed, not until you heard a slight rustle on your door.

You stood up and when the door opened you saw Ketch. He had a black eye and bruises all over him, he even had cuts on his face. What have they done to him? Just by the thought of it tears clouded your eyes. “Sh, you need to be quiet and we need to get out of here now. I’ve got a man who can get us out of town. But we need to hurry, those people won’t stay unconscious for long. Come on now, let’s run away. You and me and our unborn child, let’s start over,” Ketch said and you nodded. You have never experienced him like this but you didn’t mind. You took him by the hand and started to run with him until you were as far away from their base as possible for now.

“If you have your phone with you write one last message. We have to burn everything they could possibly track. We’re going to start all over, new names, new identities so hopefully they will never find us,” Arthur explained as he dropped everything they could possibly track to the ground.

One last message? You had to leave everything behind? You guessed that was what was necessary for you to be safe. And you knew who you owed a message to explain all of this.

Hello, Dean.

I’m sorry I have to reach you like this but it’s for the best. You’re probably wondering where I have gone again and I can tell you yes, I have gone to Ketch. Though I didn’t know what would expect me there. I don’t have the time to explain this, so please ask Mary. She knows what’s up and she knows what he has done. Don’t let her fool you into making you think this was my choice. Whatever you do, don’t come looking for me. Do it to keep me safe. I wish that I could see you again someday but for now, I don’t think we will. You’ve always been the brother I never had and I will love you til the day I die. Thank you for everything.

“We need to go now,” Ketch said gently as a car parked in front of you just after he lit up the pile of electricities. You nodded and threw the phone into the pit of fire along with everything else the British Men of Letters could possibly track after you had sent off the message.

“Let’s go start our new lives now,” you whispered gently and together with Ketch you got into the stranger’s car. But for some reason, you felt safe.

You knew that no matter what came, Arthur and you were going to get through it.

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