#as soon as i made enough money i went and put arthur in his 1 outfit he will wear the entire game

[bionicdogs]

i restarted rdr2 yesterday because 1) comfort media and 2) i’m a whore for arthur morgan and i got to this point in chapter 1 where the gang’s riding through the mountains to hit the train and the music has that stereotypical whistle note you hear in western music and booker was absolutely losing his mind trying to figure out where it was coming from. i had to pause the game bc i was laughing too hard

[claire-starsword]

The Guardiana Magic School Run - Part 10

We're back and everything was set up in the last part, so it's straight to battle this time. The clear bonus is only money this time so no pressure, which is good, because it's a forest battle, so no one's walking far today!

There's skeletons in the road, but they're the least of our problems. The Pegasus Knights should be way stronger, and move a lot better in the forest.

Also our instakill friends are back, because Runefaust loves to raise my stress levels :)

Very little happens on the first turn, Max and Gong bait a skeleton, the Pegasus knights do not come towards us, one actually went upwards which is ??? but okay, and everyone else is chilling at the forest with three steps per turn.

Of course a single skeleton is no issue to deal with, we even manage to leave the kill exp for Anri, who is the only one behind in levels after how well Arthur did in the last battle. I put Max to the right of the skeleton in hopes it would bait a lone knight out, but nope. The knights seem to be gathering with the dark elves on the middle of the road. Because of course I want the new strong enemy type to team up with the old strong enemy type, i love this, i'm fine with this situation :))))

I'm actually scared of moving Max up because of the instakills, so I take things slowly. Tao and Gong clean up another Skeleton, also these things are dropping Medical Herbs like crazy today but at least from these guys I expect it. Max finally baits a knight and shows that he's still invincible no matter what new things the game throws at us. I play a bit safe with Anri to make sure she's not in reach of any enemies, since after the last battle i'm fairly sure the elves prioritize mages over even Max.

She also finally gets to use Freeze after all the undead she's had to face so far.

Ironically, she learns Blaze 2 as soon as I say that. Finally an AoE option, though I'm fairly sure Freeze 1 deals the same amount of damage for less MP so it's still the best option for single targets.

Every time these guys attack I feel like crying, but thankfully the ferocious attack is not the attack we fear.

Turn 4 is here and I need those elves dead but I also need the knight dead because Anri is A Bit Squishy. All of these enemies have big evasion I think. We'll be essentially rolling a lot of dice right now, except Tao does reach the knight so her kill is guarantee, I'll even use Blaze 2 because I'm unsure if 1 would do enough damage and I'm not taking any risks.

The RNG has blessed me and with this (hubris incoming), the worst of the battle has passed. Tao also gets a mediocre level up of only +1 defense, but who cares she's still the best.

I try giving Khris some exp and the skeleton decides to be mean with a counter, thankfully Arthur is there to save her, in a reversal of last battle's dialogue.

Khris redeems herself by finishing off a Pegasus Knight after Anri and Tao softened them up. Turns out I was right to be paranoid before, Blaze 1 deals only 7 damage to them.

It's turn 6 and things are entirely chill. Between his last level up and the forest bonus Max is only taking 2 damage from the lizardmen this time around, so not even them get to be a problem. By turn 8 all enemies have been wiped out with no hassle. I mean, almost.

This guy has refused to move since the battle started. Dude does not care at all. Zero ambition. I respect that. I do not respect the rest of this battle though.

Look at the vast amount of nothing in front of us. There's only three enemies at the very end, and another lone knight in the middle, which might also not come. I don't feel like wasting a billion turns to bait them, that's for sure. No one needs exp that much right now.

So yeah! Let's have a whole vacation on this forest I guess! I'll also start casting the heals for exp, because I doubt there'll be any need for them, and if I mess up there's always herbs, the skeletons made sure of that.

It's now turn 13.

boy that was BORING. Gong got a chonky level up and that's it, Lowe also leveled up but it was nothing of it, he just learned Slow and who cares.

The pegasus knight finally came so we get something to do. Despite the boredom, it would not surprise me if we fail the clear bonus just because we can't reach the enemies in time, half the team is pretty much useless at this point.

Perhaps it is also worth mentioning that the final pegasus knight at the bridge is of a higher level, so that could be trouble. Not for Max of course, but for normal people.

Also, I've just noticed some of my characters have a "defend" marked on their stats, and I have no clue what that is.

Turn 15 is here. We're not getting that bonus.

I do have a last ditch effort to make, I did hope I could show this off as soon as possible.

OH GOD IT ACTUALLY KILLS

IF I GET THE BONUS LIKE THIS IT WILL BE SO FUNNY

anyway, that's Supernova. 16 MP well spent. Max has 19 MP right now, so it is a heavy cost, but you now know it very much has use.

And now that I've seen it with my own eyes I can explain why I doubted Max would learn this spell unpromoted. The man does not have animation for it at all, I'm familiar with the ripped sprites so that's why I was confused. Between this and it being a technological thing, it would not surprise me if this was meant to be promotion only (his hero armor is also heavily implied to be ancient tech, even more in this game), and they forgot/couldn't code it like that for some reason. Given all the other wonkiness I've been complaining about spell levels and promotion, maybe there's even more coding disasters behind this.

And that's it on the obligatory tangent during a boring battle, let's see if this light from above was actually a miracle.

Gong hit this guy, Arthur sadly missed, so unless Max somehow counters both enemies that's a no on the miracle bonus.

absolute nonsense

alas, as the nonsense happened I realized it would not work out,

because that DAMN knight is still napping out there in Bustoke, so no, we did not wipe out all enemies, and the battle is not finished.

Given how half my force was useless from the middle on, there was probably some smart play of sending them to deal with that guy. I thought about it. I just didn't wanna risk it because I'm here to not let anyone die above all.

Gods, that's frustrating though, I can't believe Max's absurd stunts are gonna go to waste. Actually, nothing matters anymore so let me go on another tangent. So, Supernova, am I right? Remember that at this point of the game's plot, Max has amnesia. He knows nothing of the ancients, we haven't even seen Laser Eye. This man just leveled up one day, and recovered exactly one (1) memory of his past, and that memory is essentially "hello son, here's our nuclear launch codes, bye".

I can't blame him for not being normal. Who would be normal under these circumstances.

So. yeah. We step on the bridge and win, no bonus. I am so sad.

Ending the battle in the bridge takes you straight to the next battle, but I just use the retreat command, we have setup to do back at Bustoke. Even without the bonus, we should have enough money to buy at least one more Silver Ring.

We do, and honestly the bonus would not give us an extra one, so perhaps i'm crying about little. It was more a matter of glory, really.

The ring goes to Anri, because while the magic users continue to be unoriginal and all have the same defense stat, Anri has by far the worst HP, so hopefully this will still let her survive a bit. Though the next battle has something to say about that, the next battle will just be horrible for Anri in general.

There's no more setup to do as the deals section has nothing new, but we have a few more promotions to discuss, as everyone has reaped piles of exp this time.

Lowe is on pretty much the same situation as Gong, he only learns Heal 4 at level 22, after promotion. Unlike Gong however he doesn't learn Aura so he isn't delaying anything else important, who cares about Quick and Slow. So yeah, like Gong, he'll be promoting at level 16 after getting Heal 3 as fast as possible. I don't recall Vicar only staves until chapter 6, so that should be plenty of time for him to level up.

And now Arthur.

Arthur might be the character that pisses me off the most when it comes to this mechanic change. He only learns level 1 spells, Blaze at level 15, Freeze at level 20, and Bolt at level 25. This is already kinda bad in the mega drive version, having single target Blaze and Freeze spells on a guy that already has weapons with the same range is pretty meaningless, save for getting through the occasional high defense enemy. Bolt is the only meaningful spell he gets due to being AoE at least, and he's already getting it super late.

Here, though? He's getting it ten levels later at best, and by promoting him earlier, you also delay his first spells by ten levels, which completely loses the character flavor. Like, is he still useful? Of course yes, you are seeing him kick ass in this playthrough, and the new weapons help a lot. But he's largely just another paladin. It's pretty sad that the series fumbled the concept of a magic knight twice.

There's no helping it though, so I will be promoting him now and hope we still get to enjoy at least a bit of Bolt eventually, but don't count on it. I legit considered not counting him for this magical playthrough because of this, but since he's a character that normally gets overshadowed by late game knights, it's nice to get to focus on him here. He just really deserved better.

Still, congrats to him for being the first promoted member of the run. His prize is, stat loss. Another stupid mechanic but I can't blame the GBA version this time. jk I can why did they keep this.

It's a bummer note to end on but next update should be exciting as we face Laser Eye. See ya.

Losses: 0 Deaths: 2 Max's memories: Just one, but it's a doozy.

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: Molly thinks that Bill’s and the reader relationship is a mistake so she wants them apart from each other. Bill’s against his mother wishes and he find a way to drag the reader into the Weasley family officialy

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi! Part 4 of this thing lol. I’m so happy that you guys like this story. It’ll have like 20 chapters or so, i’m still deciding that so yeah, that’s pretty much the thing. Btw, from now on chapters will be more interestings... i hope so lol. Again, english not my mother language. Please let me know if something’s wrong. Aaaaaand if you want to be tagged in the next chapters tell me and i will add you! Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Arguments

The rest of the afternoon passed as normal as the days before your arrival. Arthur Weasley made sure of it. Even if Molly attacked you with her dagger gaze when you and Bill hugged each other after you were done with dessert.

You didn’t know what Mr. Weasley had talked about with his wife while you were taking a shower, however, you noticed the tension rising from their bodies after you sat down at the table next to Bill and saw an annoyance sign on Molly’s lips. Her temple was frowned, reminding you of your own mother's gestures. Those flaming eyes, cleft chin, and pinion lips. Both women contract their features too much when they were upset and in your distress, you knew that they must not be disturbed.

The last thing you wanted was to hurt a marriage as solid as the Weasley's. More than once you heard your mother talk about it with your nanny making a powerful emphasis on how Molly and Arthur were able to carry out their marriage even if their economic conditions were precarious and the war was on their heels. They were an envied couple. Few dared to expand the family as much as they did without money in their pockets and spreading their progeny like a plague. No one was surprised, not even your mother, not when her marriage to Evan Grant was merely for financial advantage. Now Arthur and Molly looked upset, too upset for your understanding and you just hoped they could get along soon.

You weren't sure you deserved the sacrifice Bill's father had made for you, yet a flame of hope lit up in your chest. If Mr. Weasley started to trust you that was a good sign for others to do as well, right?

The afternoon continued as normal, seeing how Bill's plans to distract you from the fervent harassment of his mother was marred by the twins intervention. They had just finished a new product for their store and needed a good taster to certify the quality of their merchandise. It was a bad idea, he told himself, because twins were just a disaster and you didn't know them well enough to deny their good-natured pretensions.

"Be kind!" He yelled at them as Fred and George pulled you into their. Bill exhaled, pleading that his brothers wouldn't bother his girlfriend more than his mother already had.

Before taking you home, he thought about the pros and cons of your stay in the burrow. His conclusion was based on the fact that his entire family welcomed Harry Potter with open arms, so you didn't have to be the exception. He knew the difference in conditions in which his theory developed, yet he put his trust in the good judgment of his family even if the Grants' past left much to be desired. Bill didn't talk much about you with his mother, in fact, your presence at home was the last of his worries, the real problem came at the time of joining the Order of the Phoenix, would you be willing to fight against your relatives even if that mean betraying your own blood? Bill hope you will

Coming downstairs, Bill found his mother storing the leftover food in the fridge while the dishes soaked in the sink. Then he watched her clean each plate with her bare hands, no magic. William knew his anger was real.

"Want some help with that?"

"I'd love to, honey, thank you," his mother answered without looking at him. Bill raised the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, dipping his hands into the tide of water and bubbles that flew across the kitchen. Molly was silent, drying the dishes and flying them to her place in the display case across the kitchen. Bill cleared his throat doubtfully "It never hurts to help, much less when I have so many things to do before the rest of the Order arrive"

"Don't worry, I'll help you with that too."

"Perfect"

"Mom, can we talk?"

"About what?

"You know what," Bill clicked his tongue, passing her the last plate from the sink to continue with the spoons. "(Y/N)..."

"Your father has scolded me enough about that girl, I don't need you to do it too"

"I wouldn't if you had a little consideration with her."

"More consideration?" Molly asked in a squeak. Bill shook his head. "I'm letting her stay at my home!"

"Our home, mom, ours," he corrected, drying his hands with a cloth. "This house also belongs to my dad, my brothers, and me. It's the burrow, a family property, not a secret club where some people can get in and others cannot."

"You know what I think of her"

"And you know I don't care." Molly looked scandalized at her son. She didn't understand what he had seen in someone like you or what you had given him to come out and defend you as he did "I don't ask you to love her, but at least you have to try...

"Have you ever wondered what will happen when she betrays us?"

"That's not gonna happen"

"You're very sure of that, William"

"I'm convinced, Mom. You don't know her like I do and, you know what? I see that wanting to talk to you was a mistake"

"Moody thinks like me," Molly stopped him when Bill was ready to go upstairs. The woman clung to the railing watching her son standing in the first step out of the kitchen "(Y/N) Grant is a danger to the Order"

"Really? Like Mundungus Fletcher? I beg your pardon, mom, but if there is anyone who represents a latent danger to the Order of the Phoenix, it's him and yet you have assigned him for the mission tonight"

Molly's lips parted and if it weren't for the fact that Bill knew her mother too well, he might think the woman was about to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum. Still, she clenched the bars tightly, her brow furrowed, and the redness on her cheeks washed over her forehead.

"William!" Don't talk to me like that!"

"I wouldn't if you had a little more respect for my girlfriend."

"Don't you understand? I care about you! For all of us!" She snarled angrily. "Having a Riddle in this house..."

"A Grant, mom, (Y/N) is a Grant and that's not the same." Bill descended his steps, approaching her mother, returning that angry look that she had inherited from him. It was a strange sensation. A dyad of emotions between joy and fear where the composed emotion was guilt. He had never exploded that way with his mother, but Molly hadn't behaved that way with anyone either "His grandfather is Lord Voldemort's half-brother and his brothers are all Death Eaters, what does it matter? (Y/N) is not. And when do we judge others by where they come from? If so, we could start with half of us. Being a Weasley is equivalent to being a blood traitor"

"William!"

Molly's face went from fury to shock to fury again. Bill's eyes were twinkling and Molly swore she had never seen any of her children this angry, or worse, this determined.

"What would you have done, Mom?" Bill questioned taking his mother by his arms in an attempt to make him feel her despair. Molly opened her eyes, scared. "When your family tell you not to accept dad? When your brothers object to your engagement, just 'cause the Weasleys have long been considered blood traitors?"

For the first time that day Molly's mind went blank, Bill guessed, rewinding the memories of how difficult it was for the Prewetts to accept the marriage. Bill pleaded silently, but pulled away from her when his mother gave no indication to be a little more respectful with you.

"We aren't like that. We don't separate people by where they come from, we hug them" Bill resumed his way towards the stairs, stopping a couple of steps up, turning to take a look at Molly's stunned figure "As you did with Hermione, Remus and Harry when you and Dad became his godparents after Sirius died. (Y/N) is no different"

"She will turn her back on us when the Order fight the Grants. That moment will come and you know it"

"Don't worry, i'll make sure that doesn't happen"

"She is not part of this family"

"That can be solved very easily," he said and the smile he wore gave her a terrible chill down her spine. "Because I'm going to ask her to be my wife."

Molly's gasp was the only thing Bill heard before climbing the stairs and heading to the twins' room. He always respected his mother a lot and even thinking of opposing to her wishes was inconceivable, but your well-being was something that was involved and Bill couldn't just let her mother control his life at her will. Maybe the mistake he made was not telling his parents the truth about you from the start or, in that case, mentioning that the woman he loved was the fucking niece of the strongest fucking dark wizard of all time.

Bill Weasley rubbed his face as he reached the twins' door. He no longer had to torment himself, it was done and the only thing pending at the moment was to get Harry out of his uncles' house, take him safely to the burrow and find the courage to do what he told his mother he would do.

Would you agree to marry him? He hoped so and if not, he wouldn't pressure you. You were young - even a little younger than him - and it would be understandable if you refused to tie your life to someone else's from one moment to the other. The war progressed every day and if you were going to do it, you would do it as soon as possible.

Loud laughings brought him out of his thoughts to observe you and his brothers sitting on the floor, right in the center of both beds, laughing at each other and touching your faces. From the doorway Bill can't see the full painted room, however George's face showed a rather abstract mural full of bright colors when he felt the presence of his older brother. Fred did the same showing his face in the same situation and then you turned to Bill, still laughing and your face smeared with paint. It seemed the twins had created a paint bomb in millimeter pills, that explode when you put a little bit of pressure. You tried to clean yourself with the sleeve of your sweater but you spread the paint even more. Fred and George laughed and so did Bill.

His heart swelled with love as he saw that at least someone in his family - besides him and his father - had hope in you. God, he may have even cried with happiness.

Bill never understood how a sunshine as beautiful as you was never accepted in your entire life.

Tags:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries

Thanks for the 100 followers!❤

[moral-turpitudes]

A Sister’s Intuition:

A/N: The gif has nothing to do with this one. It just made me chuckle cuz this most certainly has fighting.

Also, this is a weird mix of Arthur actually killing the church dude, but instead of Linda trying to shoot him right after like in the show, this story is like the event that causes her to go off the rails and try to shoot him (and fictionally, Y/N lol can you imagine). So this, in my fucked up mind, is the calm before the storm that is the lovely Linda with a gun.

Trigger Warnings: Fighting obviously, Mentions of Blood, Angst, Family Drama?, Cheating, Taunting, Swearing.

Word Count: 2,114

Characters: Shelby Family x Shelby!Sister Reader

Requested: Yes, well it was suggested but still. Long story short I have a bone to pick with my brothers gf and this was cathartic. 

Request by: Anon, you can find it here.

Summary: Linda is being Linda and Y/N can’t stand her messing with her brother Arthur’s head another day. She just snaps. People and their feelings get hurt. Nothing like a nice bloody family dinner at the Shelby-Gray household.

Y/N’s skin crawled as she heard the voice of the woman downstairs. Her heart racing and fists clenching as she heard the half-hearted laughs and forceful exchange of pleasantries that were painstakingly muttered by the rest of the Shelby family.

As she smoothed out her dress, she heard Polly calling for her, surely to help with setting the table for dinner. With shaking hands she opened her door, her eldest brother Arthur’s laugh echoing through the lavish house as she made her way down the stairs.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us.” Thomas said, patting her on the shoulder as she sulked to the kitchen, avoiding Linda’s ever-judgmental gaze.

“I’ll set the table.” She said, Polly nodding at her with an annoyed expression as she glanced out into the dining room. The feeling fortunately seeming mutual.

“How’s the farm treating you brother? Having fun with the baby?” Ada asked, as Karl reached for one of the rolls in the basket Y/N was setting down.

“It’s good, quiet.” He said, his eyes looking tired and emotionless as the years went by.

“Don’t eat too much now, you won’t want dinner sweetheart.” Ada said, giving him a warning glance as Y/N silently set the table, glancing at Arthur’s troubled state. Thomas couldn’t help but notice his youngest sisters rage as she harshly set the silverware down, especially the knives.

It had been two years since the first conflict between her and Linda. The whole thing starting as Linda slowly brainwashed Arthur. No one really noticed at first, how she sunk her claws into him. How he’d stop his excessive use of cocaine, or his anger fueled drunken rampages on a dime. How he’d mess up on missions, putting them at risk. Or how he started asking Linda for permission to go places and her ordering him to be home at certain times when on business. No one noticed that while some of his habits were best left in the past, he was also leaving part of himself. The part of him that she knew and grew up with. The part that smiled and joked. The part that didn’t question himself and his worth on a daily basis. This was how she pulled him in, and he was forever tied to her now. Seeing as their 1 year old sat in his lap, giggly and oblivious to the pressures and expectations he’d be raised on years later whether Arthur wanted him to be or not.

The big blow up between them though, was when Y/N learned she cheated. If she inherited one good thing in life from the Shelby family it was her intuition. Her ability to sense when a person meant harm. Her ability to know when someone was nothing more than a snake. A soul-sucking, venomous snake.

The night she found out, she made sure Arthur was alright, or at least alive, knowing how he could spiral at any given moment. That was one thing about growing up around a dysfunctional family. Knowing when the others needed help, and knowing when to help set others straight. And he had seemed okay, at least until a few days later.

That same week Arthur killed the man she’d cheated on him with, going down a dark spiral as he grappled with his sins. His eyes brimming with tears and hands stained red as he walked into the house unannounced, nearly giving Polly a heart attack.

Y/N remembering how she sat him down and wiped the tears from his eyes and blood from his busted knuckles as he stared at her.

“These are the hands of a devil, Y/N...how can I be saved like this?” He asked through tears.

“Don’t ask how god can save you. Ask how you can save yourself.” She said, wrapping his hands in gauze.

“What?” He asked, confused. The tears streamed down his face as she urged him to drink a glass of water, given he was already in a drunken state.

“You have to save yourself, Arthur. I can’t do it for you. Linda cheated on you yeah? Well it’s not the first time she’s hurt you. No one else can really see it...not even you...but I can...She’s made you into someone you’re not. You may need to slow it on the drinking and drugs, and get your anger in check, but you don’t have to completely ruin yourself over some words in a book or some girl alright? I want my brother back...” She said giving him a strong hug. She wasn’t known for talking much, always preferring to stay in the background and being quiet, but she threw insults and plans around in her head just like Thomas. But when she did say something, people listened.

The day after Arthur attacked Linda’s lover, she decided to meet with her at her house. The rain pouring down as she made her way up the winding dirt roads, her thoughts running through her mind as she reluctantly stepped inside the farmhouse.

“Oh, Y/N. Wasn’t expecting you.” She said, a disgusted look on her face.

“We agreed last night to meet but I guess you didn’t remember. Must’ve been a bit preoccupied I see.” Y/N said, leaning to the side as she saw yet another man walking around the house that wasn’t Arthur. There was a long, awkward silence before she continued.

“I’m just here to warn you that you’ll get what’s coming to you. You don’t fuck with the Shelby family.” She said spitting at her feet.

“You know Y/N? You’re just like the rest of them. No morals...no class...nothing.” She said.

Y/N smirked as she inched closer to her, standing almost eye to eye. With a quick draw of her arm, she landed a harsh slap to her face. Her handprint stinging and bright red as it adorned Linda’s cheek.

“You’re one to talk about morals and class. People like you make me sick.” Y/N spat, walking off as Linda stood there holding her cheek. Her mystery lover nowhere to be seen as he’d retreated back to the bedroom in hiding, most surely thinking Arthur was there.

As she set the final glass down, she was brought out of her horrendous memories by the voice of her brother John.

“Aye Y/N, how’s your training been going with Finn and the guys? Think you could take him out yet?” He said, a mischievous smirk on his face. Linda scowled as she glanced over at Y/N, probably remembering how her face stung after the blow. The event seeming years away due to the hectic business of the blinders and the growing number of kids in the family.

“I highly doubt she could. Even if she grew up with you lot as brothers. Besides, it’s not ladylike. You can’t fight around the children.” Linda said, sipping her tea.

Y/N’s eyes pierced hers as she sat there. Her appetite fading as she got up from the table.

“Y/N...now’s not the time for this. Sit down.” Polly said, pointing at the empty chair between her and Thomas.

“I have no desire to sit with someone I can’t trust. You’ll get what’s coming to you Linda. I swear it on our mums grave.” She said getting up from the table again, this time making it to the kitchen before hearing quick footsteps.

“You said that last time and nothing happened. What are you going to do? All this family does is make empty promises. You’re just a worthless girl with nothing but her families bad manners and filthy blood money...” Linda continued, Y/N zoning out as she unclasped her earrings and threw them on the counter. Her eyes scanning Linda’s movements as she stepped closer, cracking her knuckles. John got up as soon as he heard her bad-mouthing his sister. Finn stood and made his way near her only for John to hold him back with a smirk, knowing this was long over-due.

She didn’t say anything as she swung a left hook, a loud crack sounding through the room as Linda stumbled back. John cheering slightly as she regained her composure.

“I told ya you’d get what’s coming to you.” She said, as Linda lunged forward and went to slap her in the face, but failing as Y/N blocked her hand and twisted causing a scream to erupt from her lying mouth. Blood was dripping from her nose as Arthur and Thomas came in. To her surprise, they didn’t jump in nor did Arthur try to stop her, knowing all too well his once precious Linda was bound to pay somehow. Polly and Ada shielded the children, holding their hands over their eyes as the mini brawl panned out.

“You’re going to hell!” Linda yelled, punching Y/N in the shoulder as she cried.

“I’ve been there already love, it’s quite nice.” She said moving back and raising her arms up to guard her face, looking for an open spot, eventually landing a final blow to Linda’s ribs that left her on the ground gasping for air.

Thomas suddenly grabbed Y/N’s arm and yanked her back. She wasn’t kicking and screaming, but he could see the rage in her eyes. The way his and Arthur’s often looked.

“Enough. Alright? She got the message. Enough.” He said.

“No. No I don’t think she did. Get off me.” She spat, trying to wrestle her way out of her brothers grasp.

Thomas let go so he wouldn’t hurt her, but watched on as she stalked towards Linda and Arthur.

“You can see how you’ve torn this family up right? I can’t speak for everyone, even for the man you’ve hurt, but I can speak for me and I’ll never accept you into this family again. Never. Now get out of my fucking house.” She said lowly, grabbing Linda’s arm harshly as Arthur tried to stop her.

“Y/N I’ll take her, you go cool down.” Arthur said, his hands shaking a bit as he was still torn between the hurt from Linda’s past actions and the love he had for her. 

Y/N stood up with her arms crossed, her knuckles bloodied and aching as she stared her brother down.

“Arthur...do you remember what I told you that night? You have to save yourself. She’s going to keep you trapped in those same situations again if you don’t do something. She’ll hurt you if you don’t watch out.” She said, wiping a tear from her cheek as she shoved past her brothers and Polly, the children crying as an awkward silence fell over the house. She sulked back up to her room, cleaning her knuckles and bandaging them the best she could, knowing everyone probably hated her now.

“What was that aye?” Thomas asked.

“Fucking hell Tommy.” She said, jumping slightly at his voice from the doorway.

“I was just doing what no one else wanted to fucking do. Someone had to make her and our idiot brother see reason.” She said, wincing as she tried to wrap the gauze around her knuckles.

Thomas silently came over and helped her, trying to think of something to say as he snipped the last of the white fabric.

“You all hate me I already know. I just couldn’t sit there as she acted like everything was fine. Like she didn’t hurt him multiple times. She’s nothing but trouble and no one fucking understands that.” She said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“He can protect himself...I’m sure he’ll come around. And we don’t hate you. Besides, if I was betting on you that would’ve been the best fight of the year. I know for a fact you can take down Finn.” He said, trying to lighten her mood.

“I already did, he just doesn’t talk about it.” She said giggling and wiping the tears away as she gave him a hug. He sighed as he wrapped his arms protectively around her.

“She also had it coming. She said I had no morals...and no class....I just couldn’t let her talk that way about me...and about our family.” She said.

“Aye she did have it coming, I’ll agree on that. But you can’t listen to her. There will always be people who’ll say those things. They just don’t understand us.” He said.

“Well, they should work on that then aye? I guess next time I’ll try not to beat anyone up. I’m not promising anything though.” She said, Thomas chuckling as she broke from the hug and went into her room.

“I’ll see what’s going on down there. You just rest. But uh,,,do me a favor aye?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“If someone does say something, don’t go at them alone. Tell me alright?” He asked.

“Okay...” she said with a sigh, hoping the night could be over with.

“Good, I’ll see you at the family meeting tomorrow then. Bright and early.” He said with a smirk.

“Oh fuck off Tommy...Goodnight.” She said, play-punching his shoulder.

“Goodnight.” He said, putting his cap on and making his way out the door to whatever family chaos awaited him.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 4

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+​

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​​​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​​​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 Epilogue 

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

Killian felt as though he were swimming up from the bottom of the ocean.  Everything was dark and still, the sounds around him muffled, as though he were hearing them through the water. And then suddenly the water cleared and he pushed through the surface.

 The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was her face, her beautiful radiant face looking down on him with hope and perhaps a bit of trepidation.

 "Swan, at last!" he whispered past a throat as dry as sandpaper.

 How he knew her name he had no idea, but know it he did, just as he had the strangest feeling he knew her--had communicated with her, had a connection with her.

 Given the standoffish way she'd treated their one previous encounter, he expected her to pull away, to become defensive at his familiar use of her name, but she surprised him.  Instead of shying away, she smiled at him, let her hand linger on his cheek a moment longer and simply said, "Welcome back."

 A nurse came in at that moment, and Killian looked around in surprise.  For the first time, he realized he was in a hospital.

 "What--" he croaked before taking a sip of water the nurse brought him. "What happened?"

 "We were rather hoping you could tell us that," replied a handsome black man who stood at a discreet distance.

 "Killian, I'd like you to meet Merlin Emrys,"  Emma said. "It's thanks to him we were able to find you."

 Killian held out his hand, and shook Merlin's.  "You have my thanks."

 "You're most welcome," Merlin said with a smile, "but I assure you I was only a small part of the puzzle.  You owe your waking to Miss Swan here--to her and to the connection you share."

 It was odd, Killian thought, that neither he nor Emma had introduced themselves to each other; it was even more odd that it felt as though such an introduction would be redundant.  What had happened to them to make them feel as though they'd known each other for decades?

 Soulmates, a small voice inside of him insisted.

 "You have my deepest gratitude," Killian said, looking around at the two people with him, "both of you."

 Emma took his hand, squeezing it gently.  "Do you remember anything about...whatever it was that brought you here?"

 Killian thought intently for a moment, closing his eyes to help himself concentrate.   "I remember…" He looked up at Emma. "I remember you, love.  I remember running into you, quite literally, and then I came across a scuffle in an alley.  I tried to intervene and was struck from behind, and then...nothing."

 "Killian," Emma said gently, "that was half a year ago.  You were declared dead, and your family interred you in the family mausoleum.  Do you know how that could have happened?"

 Killian shook his head.  "I have no idea, love.  It is a mystery--"

 Suddenly the flower vase on the bedside table crashed to the floor, making Killian jump.

"What the hell?!" Emma exclaimed.

It was me!

Killian jumped in the bed.  He’d heard the voice as clearly as he’d heard Emma’s exclamation, but the voice wasn’t in the room; it was in his head.

“Did you….did you hear that?” he asked, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said.  She looked as disconcerted as he felt.  “Merlin?  What’s happening?”

Killian turned to look at the other man in the room, but he wasn’t paying them any mind.  His attention was focused near the nightstand and the shattered vase.  For a moment, he merely stared intently, and then he nodded, as though acknowledging someone--or something--neither Killian nor Emma could see.

“Emma,” Merlin said, finally turning back toward the bed, “do you remember when you first came to me, I sensed another spirit with us?  An angry and quite desperate one?”

Emma furrowed her brows.  “Um...yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“He’s with us now,” Merlin said.  “He’s the voice you heard, and he’s responsible for the broken vase.”

“Okay…”

“Killian,” Merlin said, “his name is Arthur.  Arthur Pendragon.  He says he made a terrible decision.  He borrowed a good deal of money from the mobster known as Hades.  The business venture he’d gambled the money on fell through, and to put it mildly, Hades was not pleased.”

“Clearly things went rather badly for him after that if he’s a ghost,” Killian said slowly, “but I’m afraid I don’t follow.  What does this Arthur Pendragon have to do with any of us?”

It was me!!

This time the shout in his head was so loud it was nearly deafening.  Killian scowled, glaring in the general direction of the nightstand where he assumed the spirit was standing--or whatever it is that spirits do when they’re haunting the living.

“Seems like someone’s impatient,” Emma said dryly.  “Merlin, how about you stop with the vagueness and just spit it out.  Who is -or I guess who was- Arthur, and why does he insist on yelling at us?”

“Arthur Pendragon is haunting you both because he was the man in the alley, the man you tried to save, Killian.”

Killian blew out a long breath.  “Clearly my attempts were fruitless.”

Merlin shook his head.  “No, you weren’t able to save his life, but he’s here for a reason.  Maybe you can help him now, help him move on, help him find peace.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m at his disposal,” Killian said, “but why the bloody hell does he keep repeating ‘it was me’?”

Merlin turned toward the nightstand and listened for another moment, and then he turned back to the bed, smiling.

“It would seem Arthur Pendragon is the solution to the mystery you face,” Merlin said. “It was Arthur’s body the authorities found in the alley.  Your phone, Killian, was found beside him.  Given the fact that he was beaten until he was unrecognizable, and given the fact that he bore a rather uncanny resemblance to you in life, it was believed he was you.  It was his body that was shipped back to England.”

Emma whistled.  “That’s quite the mistake.”

“Indeed,” Merlin agreed.

“So, how can we help him?” Killian asked.  “How can we move him toward the light?”

“Arthur wishes his body to be returned back home,” Merlin said, “and he wishes a message be conveyed to his widow, Guinevere.”

“I can manage that,” Killian said.  “What precisely is the message?”

“Arthur wishes to tell Gwen, as he calls her, that he’s sorry,” Merlin said.  “He knows his obsession wounded his wife deeply, and he wishes more than anything that he’d been a better husband to her.  He wants to thank her for her constant love and faithfulness, even when he was not worthy of it, but now she should follow her heart with his blessing.  Lance du Lac is a good man, and Arthur hopes they are happy together.”

“I promise you, Arthur,” Emma said, taking Killian’s hand, “I’ll find your wife, and I’ll pass on your message.”

Killian felt a whoosh of coldness pass him, and then it was gone.  Suddenly the room felt warmer, lighter.  

Emptier.

“He’s moved on,” Merlin said.  “Thanks to the both of you, a man who was very troubled--both in life and in death--was able to find peace.”

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

3 days later

Emma knocked softly on the doorframe, and then stepped inside Killian’s hospital room.  He looked up from his seat in the plush chair in the corner, and his entire face lit up at the sight of her.

It made the butterflies dance in her stomach.  He was gorgeous when he smiled like that, and she had to admit, the dark-wash jeans, blue button-up and black leather jacket didn’t hurt either.  Lying in the bed in a hospital gown he was easy on the eyes, but up and dressed--woah!

His delighted grin turned knowing, and Emma felt her face flame.  She was quite sure she hadn’t been this ridiculously attracted to someone since...well, she wasn’t sure it’d ever been like this.

“Looks like someone’s eager to get out of the hospital,” Emma said.

“Aye,” Killian agreed with a nod.  “I believe I’ve spent more than enough time in this small room.  I’m eager to make the most of my last day in the States.”

After waking from the coma and learning the truth of what happened to him, Killian had made an immediate call to his brother, Liam, paying no mind to the time difference that made it the middle of the night in England.

“Brother?” Killian said as soon as the call connected.  “Are you sitting down?”

Emma had gotten up to leave then, not wanting to intrude on a private family moment, but Killian stopped her, squeezing her hand and begging her with his expressive eyes to stay.

Liam had offered to jump on the next plane to the States, but Killian had refused.  “It’s been six months, Liam,” he’d said.  “If my calculations are correct, my small niece or nephew is to be born any day.  Elsa needs you now more than I do.”

Killian listened for a moment before grinning at Emma and rolling his eyes.  “Stop fussing, Liam,” he murmured affectionately.  “I’m not a lad anymore.  I can manage alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Emma said with conviction.  “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

And she had.  She’d spent every free moment here with him at the hospital over the ensuing three days until the doctor had agreed to release him.  Emma had long since stopped wondering about the connection she felt to Killian, had stopped fighting against the pull she felt toward him.  Whatever odd twist of fate had brought the two of them together, together they were, and  Emma found she had no desire to fight against the warmth and happiness being with him brought.

But now, well now, it was all about to come to an end.  Killian’s flight was first thing in the morning, and afterward, there would be an entire ocean between them.

Emma’s heart plummeted.  There were far too many obstacles for a “relationship”--or whatever you’d call what they had--that had lasted all of a week. She didn’t even know if he felt the same way about her that she did about him.  In less than twenty-four hours, she’d have to say goodbye to the man who had somehow managed to burrow his way into her heart, and for all she knew that goodbye would be permanent.

“The doctor should be here any minute for a last check, and then you’re out of here,” Emma said, forcing the dismal thoughts from her mind.  Killian being released from the hospital was a good thing.  She wasn’t going to ruin the moment by being glum.

“I must admit, I’ll be pleased to be rid of this place,” Killian said with a wry grin.  “How the devil is one expected to convalesce and get his rest when the nurses come to poke and prod every five minutes?”

Emma laughed.  “Quit complaining,” she said. “You know you had all the nurses eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They seem to have adopted me as their pet over the past few months, haven’t they? Even if the brigands who attacked me rather knocked the handsome out of me.”

Emma grinned.  “No one’s that powerful.”

He enjoyed her flirting, if his pleased grin was any indication.  After a moment, he sobered.  “I want to thank you, Swan, for saving me, pulling me from the coma.”

She smiled gently.  “Did you really think I’d let you waste away in here if I could help it?”

“I’d hardly blame you if you did,” he answered.  “After all, we were strangers.  Not one person in a hundred who received a phone call from a dead man would put in half the effort you did to track it down.”

Emma shrugged.  “It was weird.  I had the strangest feeling of connection to you, even though as far as I knew at the time, I’d never even seen you before.  No way I could have just let you languish here.”

The doctor came in at that moment, and their conversation was put on hold as he did his final examination before declaring Killian fit to go about his normal life.

“So, I went ahead and booked you a room at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast,” Emma said when they were once again at home.  “Granny put you in the same room you’d been in during your vacation, before, you know, everything happened.”

“I greatly appreciate it, love.”

“I guess, um,” she said, “we should go.  I’ll drop you off and let you enjoy your last day in Storybrooke however you’d like.”

Emma turned to leave the room, but Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm.  “Do you know how I’d most like to spend my last day in the States?”

She shook her head.

“I’d like to spend it with you,” he said with a gentle smile.  “Would you allow me to buy you lunch?”

Her heart pounded.  “Are you...are you asking me out?”

He nodded, taking her hand and lacing their fingers.  “If you’re amenable, aye, I’m absolutely asking you out.  What do you say?”

Emma stepped into his space, cupped the back of his head with her free hand, and brought his lips down to hers.  If he was surprised at the kiss, he didn’t show it, responding as soon as her lips touched his.

And gods did he know how to kiss.  Emma was more than tempted to scrap their lunch date and simply stay here making out all day.  Food was overrated compared to this.

“Alright, Mr. Jones, you’re good to--oh, I’m sorry!  Let me just leave this with you--” 

Emma pulled away, grinning as the embarrassed nurse laid a handful of forms on the bedside table and then scurried out the door.

“That was a yes, by the way,” Emma said when they were again alone.  “How about we go get that lunch you promised me before we scandalize any more nurses?”

 Notes:

--Well there you have it!  Mystery solved and happy endings all around.

--All that’s left is a fluffy epilogue in which a few surprise guests show up at an important event in Emma and Killian’s lives.

                                                                                 Next Chapter-->

[cedricslover]

Troubled pt.3

Pairing: Cedric x Fem! Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 (Final)

Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS…

Chapter summary: as the Yule Ball came nearer you tried to avoid your problems and just enjoyed the holidays. You were not successful and what you thought would be a lovely evening turned out to be not.

Note: there is no specific house:))) i can make requests if y’all have one. Sorry for the long wait   

Warnings: angst, shouting, yeah pretty much that’s it.

Word count:  3,3k

Hello Molly, 

         I really appreciate how you thought of me having no one to buy me a dress. I really hope I’m not being a hindrance to you. I would prefer any type of dress as long as the sleeves are long up to my wrists. It’s very cold and I have quite an allergy towards the cold and I would really be grateful if it’s a long sleeved dress. Nevertheless, I’ll lead the color to your liking and also the designs. 

       I know you won’t agree but there are a few galleons here just enough for my dress, I don’t want you to waste money on me. That’s all. Take care! Oh and greet Arthur for me too.         

Yours truly, 

Y/N

You sighed as soon as you sealed the envelope. Then, you suddenly glanced at your mirror that was on your table, you’ve never seen your eyes quite this lively since- well since that incident happened. You immediately rejected the negative thoughts that were slowly creeping in your mind. 

‘Stop.’ you told yourself. For the next few days, you wish to never think of your problems first and just enjoy this time. Just this once, again. 

You stared at yourself again at the same mirror, now smiling, you saw yourself, the same self you were last year. She was there, looking back at you and doing your signature wink. 

“Heading to the owlery?” Adrian Pucey suddenly appeared in front of you as you walked the hallway. You rolled your eyes as you replied to him with full sarcasm “Obviously. Now if you please excuse me” you really tried to sound pissed, it's not that you’re not pissed but you’re not pissed enough to sound like it. You just know where this conversation would go. 

“No” He said with full confidence, now you’re seriously pissed. Adrian was a hard headed jerk and you wish to punch his face every time his mouth is opening. “Okay” you rested your face, now showing your bitch face, and without a doubt, punched his stomach and pushed him sideways. You heard him groan before you continued walking and heard the laughs of the students. 

“Way to go Pucey!”

“Told you to stop hitting on her, look at you now”

“Poor Pucey!”

You walked with a smirk plastered in your face. 

“Cedric’s a lucky guy. Too bad” you shivered at the voice of Professor Moody who was just standing beside you. “What was that Professor? I didn’t quite hear what you said after you mentioned how lucky Cedric is” you let out a little laugh as you stopped, intrigued as to what Professor Moody said. “Nothing Y/L/N. Just about that ferret boy” he gave you a little smile before walking away, limping. 

You stared at Professor Moody’s back, you wanted to talk to him, about what is happening to you, he’s an ex-auror, he might help you. But when you were about to follow him you remembered that you weren’t supposed to think about your problems but instead, enjoy yourself. 

You arrived at the owlery, it was really slippery, you heard the owl's hooting while the smooth breeze made you quiver. And as soon as you entered, your pet owl landed on your arm. “The Burrow okay?” you watched your owl as she flew her way to the sky. 

“Hmmm?” you felt warmth wrapping your waist as you stared at the sky, still looking at the direction where your owl went. “You want hot cocoa?” You felt Cedric’s breath in your neck as he rested his face on your shoulder. “Are you a hot cocoa? Because if you are, then yes” you shifted your gaze to him and smiled, looking at those grey eyes, those perfect lashes, and his fairly disheveled hair that almost appeared as golden brown. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s making me blush” he broke your eye contact and stood straight while his face was obviously red, you don’t know if it is because of the cold or he was really blushing. 

“You look cute” you said as you reached for his face and pinched both his rosy cheeks while scrunching your nose. “I know” he smirked and you just playfully rolled your eyes, of course he knows, he’s Cedric Diggory for Godric’s sake. 

“Yeah alright let’s get hot cocoa at Hogsmeade” you started walking and when you were about to reach the stairs you suddenly slipped, luckily an arm wrapped your waist before your body reached the ground. “Be careful next time love, it’s slippery” Cedric’s breath was visible, it was really cold and you’d really appreciate a nice warm kiss. 

Before Cedric can even help you stand up straight you stole a kiss from him and started running, cautiously of course. 

“Hey! Come back here you kiss stealer!” Cedric yelled as you raced down the owlery, your hair bursted in the winter air and your giggles made it even more Christmas-y, if that’s even a word. 

“OW!” you felt sudden coldness on your back, started in your clothes and down your spine, you knew what was that and who did that. “Oh you wanna play this game, git” you slowly gathered snow with your hands and as fast as the snitch you turned and threw it directly to Cedric’s face who was still busy laughing at you. “TAKE THAT!” you started running faster than ever when Cedric wiped the snow off his face, you laughed maniacally as you headed to hogsmeade. “COME BACK HERE!” Cedric shouted again, obviously freezing because you just threw snow directly to his face. 

“Oi! Oi! Y/N!” you heard Fred called you  as you ran past them at the entrance of Zonko’s Joke Shop.

“Later twins!” you waved the back of your hand and sprinted again when you felt Cedric was getting nearer, thankfully you’re not as jacked as your boyfriend, your fitness comes in handy. 

You laughed again as you turned your head and saw Cedric getting tired and panting. You felt bad but still laughed as you went back to him. 

“Sorry” you wrapped your arms to his right arm. He was obviously annoyed or pissed, his lips were pursed. “Ced…” you started slowly pinching his arms while looking at his face, “Ceddie” you said sweetly and saw he was forcing himself not to smile. “Babyyy” you started poking his waist to his tummy and felt his hard abdominal muscles. “Hubby” you wriggled your eyebrows as you saw his face look at you with wide eyes and his cheeks and ears started turning red. “You were waiting for that one aren’t you? You sly badger” you teased him as you two walked the snowy Hogsmeade, his arm over your shoulder, giving you access to his heat while you wrapped your arm to his waist, wishing this moment would never end.

“Oi! Hands off missy!” you shouted across the hallways when you saw a group of students, probably fifth years, crowding over Cedric. At first, you just let it off, Cedric was undeniably popular and this kind of scenario is considered normal, until one girl lays her hand on Cedric’s chest and is about to rest her head too. 

“Thank you love” Cedric smiled at you when you walked to him and the girls immediately avoided you. “You’re so soft despite your muscles” he reached your waist and gave you a kiss, “No I’m not, I just want you to be possessive” he whispered to your ear and slowly licked it that made you immediately look around, alarmed that someone just saw what Cedric did, thankfully no one did. 

“Ced!” you hissed while he chuckled and let go of your waist, “I got to go, see you later, I love you” he said and waved at you before turning his back and started half running, he must be running late. 

You walked again towards your common room when the twins ran in front of you and passed you a box. “Your dress arrived!” they both yelled while running and before you can even ask why they are running you saw Professor McGonagall following them, “Fred and George Weasley come back here this instant!” she shouted that made your eyes go wide and looked at the twins’ back. You shake your head and continue walking the hall while thinking about what the twins had done this time. 

Days have passed by and today was the Yule Ball, you never left your dorm, even if there are a few knocks on your door telling you to go out, it was Christmas, why do you even want to spend your day in your dorm. 

Well maybe you just wanted to have an alone time, it was hard not to think about your current situation, what might happen, you’ll never know. 

You shove all those thoughts into your head and lock it, this is not the time for that. You stood up and observed your dress, beside it was a note from Molly,

Dear Y/N, 

              This is the best one I could get you, I hope you liked it sweetie. Oh how I wish I can see you wearing this dress, this would look very very perfect on you my dear, have fun! 

Love,

Molly

You smiled as you read her note, Molly was there when you needed a mom after yours passed away. The Weasleys made you and your little brother like family, that’s why you’re so thankful to your bestfriends, they are the best. 

After putting on your dress you looked at yourself in the mirror, the long sleeves just hid the dark mark perfectly and since it is fitted you won’t have the trouble of it slipping down, the dress was your house color and was a high neck one, with small flower patterns that are connected and surrounded the neck to the shoulders and navel, the upper part of the dress was fitted and complimented your shape well, while the remaining skirt is flowy and long that it drags as you walk. You felt not a princess, but a queen, high neck dresses are more often seen on queens. You chuckled as you pictured yourself as a queen, with a crown and all.

Walking the hallways felt long enough, like an hour passed by as every time you walked people kept staring at you, it made you anxious and conscious that they see your dark mark that’s why you kept pulling the sleeves as you walk.

But of course, the ignorant, the weak, the obvious, would be caught easily, you kept your straight face as you walked the halls, your head high, covering your anxiety that they might be looking, not just the students, but the death eaters, observing you from afar. 

“I’m looking forward working with you, Y/N” 

The face of Voldemort in the form of a malnourished child sitting on the couch of your old house appeared, beside him was Peter Pettigrew and Nagini. 

“Yes My Lord, I am looking forward to serving you” the image of you appeared with them, bowing down, looking stoic. 

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you my dear” Voldemort’s arm stretched, it was all just skin and bones, then it reached your chin, as you watched yourself, you saw a glimpse of disgust in your face. Voldemort raised your face while Peter smiled widely and Nagini hisses. 

You took a deep breath to remove that memory from months ago, he can never be observing you here at Hogwarts, it’s impossible, his subjects couldn’t possibly enter this castle, this is protected, Hogwarts is one of the safest place, or so they say. 

You stumbled as you bumped into someone, “Professor Moody?” you looked at him and saw his arranged self. You picked his flask that fell and handed it to him. “Are you okay Professor?” his face was sweating and immediately grabbed the flask from your hand and drank it. You immediately smelled the foul stench from the drink as he drank it, “Professor I think your drink is expired” but before he could even answer you, you were called by Hermione. 

“Sorry, I have to go” you forced a smile at him and ran towards Hermione, grabbing your skirt and lifting it so you won't step on it. “Come on, it’s almost time!” she said and grabbed your arm as you two walked fast in the now almost empty hallways. 

“Woah calm down Cinderella” you said and looked at her, her blue dress is perfect. “You look gorgeous by the way” you said and smiled at her as you two were almost on the marble staircase. “Not as gorgeous as you, have you seen yourself?” she said and looked at you, up and down. You felt flattered. 

“Hermione it’s not good to compare. We’re both gorgeous” she smiled at you sweetly, you treated Hermione like a little sister, of course others won’t even realize she needed one, she’s just that know-it-all Gryffindor for them, but for you, she’s just a girl who wanted validation, a girl that thinks academics is the only thing she’s good at. 

“Let’s walk together shall we?” you offered your hand and she took it, you squeezed it, not sure if the assurance is for you or her. 

You two walked the marble staircase, hand in hand, your dress dragging from behind, people straight away looked at the two of you, you only saw one expression from them all, they’re all in awe. 

As you two arrived at the last step Viktor Krum arrived and kissed Hermione’s hand, you smiled at them as Viktor took Hermione away. 

“Wow” you were greeted by Cedric who was now in front of you and was looking at your face. “You always look beautiful” he said and kissed your cheek before offering his arm that you eventually took. 

“How was your day darling?” Cedric asked you while you two were waltzing at the Great Hall. “Doing good, how about you?” you answered as he lifted you up, his forehead creased like he was expecting this question. “Not quite good actually-” you two turned, “my girlfriend, you know, Y/N, she never came out her dorm today,-” you two turned again, “she never even greeted me a Merry Christmas” his face was happy but his jaw said otherwise, his jaw was clenched, “I don’t know what is happening to my girlfriend these past months” he was still doing that fake happy expression, probably not to attract attention, “I feel so left out, I’m her boyfriend yet it feels like she built a door that no one can enter, even me, me who was supposed-” he lifted you, “to be her person, her safe space” he said. You two looked at each other and stopped when almost all of the people were dancing with their partners. 

You surveyed him and knew, Cedric is mad. 

He held your hand and dragged you out of the Great Hall. Now you two are outside, you instantly felt the cold but thanks to your long sleeved dress it was fine for you. 

“What’s going on?” you looked at him, squinting your eyes. “What’s going on?! Isn’t that something I should ask?!” he popped off, the veins on his neck are visible. “I-” you tried to come near him but he backed up. Your face went pale and you tried to fight your tears from falling. “Y/N tell me what is going on?! I can’t understand you anymore, so I tried to ask your brother through a letter even if he’s three years old, because he knows you better than anyone, and do you know what happened?! The letter went back, he’s not there anymore! Y/N! Where’s your brother?!” he held both your shoulders, he was also fighting his tears back, Cedric is a softie, he never wanted to shout unless he is frustrated. 

“Y/N! Tell me!! Where is Theodore?!” the mere mention of your brother’s name acted like an activator for a bomb, tears started streaming down your face. “Where is… he” Cedric’s voice slowly calmed down as he saw you losing it. 

“He is… somewhere safe” you cannot mention it, you don’t want to. Looking down at the snow, the dark mark felt itchy.

“Y/N, where is safe?” his voice was full of suspicion, you raised your head, now composing yourself. There are no expressions left, you’ll just do it. 

“Theo baby!” you called immediately as soon as you entered your house, it seems different now, no mum that would greet you with a kiss and a cookie, no dad that will help you carry your trunk to your room, the only thing that was the same was your little brother running to you with open arms. 

“Big sisteeer” the tiny baby voice rings your ears, you smiled and kneeled expecting his hug. 

“How’s my baby?” you baby talked him and arranged his messy hair. “I was playing” he told you while he was squeezing your cheeks. “Hmm?? Really? With who?” you stood up and placed your trunk at the doorstep. 

“With big guy!” he pointed in front of the both of you and what greeted you was complete terror. “Amycus” you say his name with pure hatred and disgust, you immediately grabbed your wand and pointed it to Amycus Carrow, you know him, how? Simply, he killed your parents. 

“Why are you here?” you backed up, picking up your brother, you wanted to apparate, so bad, but your baby brother can’t possibly handle that. He might splinch. And Amycus knows that, you can’t escape.

“Relax young girl, I just came here to fetch you” he smirked and before you could even throw him an attack spell, you felt dizziness, your eyes slowly closing, you felt weak, “no-” they were taking Theodore away from you. You should've known, the Carrow siblings are like attached in the hip, you should’ve known, Alecto was there. 

“With them” your voice is hard as ever, emotionless in just a snap, you pulled the hem of your sleeve upward and showed your left forearm to Cedric. Your heart shattered in pieces as you saw horror in his face, he probably thought you left your brother at the orphanage, he never thought…

After showing it you immediately return your sleeve into place, “now I think that’s enough explanation on what is going on.” you acted like you shake off the dirt in your shoulder, you’re trying your best to act like everything is just nothing. 

“Of course you wouldn’t want any relationship with a death eater,” you started the conversation again after the long silence, terror overtook Cedric’s face as he looked at you again. He wanted to say something but it seemed like he can’t word it out. 

“Let’s break up” you fought the tears and said it like you’re just announcing something light to him. He looked at you like he can’t believe you’re saying this, but there’s still something in his eyes. 

He agrees. 

He doesn’t want any connection with a death eater. 

“Well, I think that’s settled then” you turned your back to him and took a step forward, you were about to enter the castle again when you were stopped, someone’s holding you back, someone’s holding your wrist. 

You closed your eyes, you can’t hold it much longer. You took a deep breath and turned around but before you could even talk his lips met yours. 

The kiss wasn’t innocent, it wasn’t passionate, but it was love, the kiss is something new, maybe it was both of your tears that you can taste, but it was more, it’s a kiss for a love that can’t happen, a love that will make you regret all your decisions more, a kiss that doesn’t want you to go. A kiss from your person that had no other choice. 

“I love you” He said between your kisses, salty tears filled both of your lips, “so much”. 

It was a kiss after a break up. Merry Christmas indeed.

[writingwithacupoftea]

A family reunited - part 2!

Summary: The time has come for Y/N Shelby to explain her five-year disappearance to her family. Tommy, her beloved elder brother, proves to be less than understanding...

Word Count: 3220

A/N: 300 followers?? I still can’t believe it. I know this part 2 has been a long time coming, so I hope it serves as enough of a thank you 😘 I’ve never written a sequel to a fic before, so I don’t know how this will go down, but I hope you like it!! 💜💜

Part 1

Y/N Shelby had loved seeing her family again, she really did: it had been what she'd dreamed of for so long, just for them to know that she was alive had brought her happiness.

What she didn't love was Tommy's booming wake-up call of "FAMILY MEETING AT THE SHOP IN AN HOUR - DON'T BE LATE," at half past 8 in the morning.

Ah, but she sort of did at the same time.

Thinking back to the night before, Y/N found a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading throughout her body and a smile spread across her face as she snuggled back into her pillow. Her eyes began to close again, tempting a few more minutes sleep – surely she would still make the meeting in time?  

At the thought of the meeting, however, Y/N suddenly found herself wide awake as she realised what the meeting would be for: she was going to have to explain herself. Y/N was going to have to tell everyone why she disappeared for so many years and what happened in that time. Her stomach began to churn and her mind started to race, trying to hurriedly plan out what she would say, but unsure where to even begin.  

Y/N was proud of her work as a spy during the war, but that didn't mean that she was looking forward to reliving some of the details of her story.

Knowing that there was no point in delaying the inevitable for longer than necessary, she dragged herself out of bed and sent up a little prayer for the strength that she so desperately needed.

***

As Y/N walked into the meeting an hour later, she noticed the change in Tommy immediately. Gone was the loving brother that had spent the entire evening practically glued to her hip, and in his place was the cold leader of the Peaky Blinders that Polly had told her about upon her return to Birmingham.  

Whilst in hiding, Y/N had seen the impact that the war had had on the men who fought in France, but that didn't stop her heart from breaking slightly as she properly looked at Tommy in the light of day. He had always been quiet and controlled, but never to this extent.

She sat down at the table, and soon enough the whole family were gathered. Y/N couldn't bear to look at them, even though she hadn't said a thing yet. She feared their judgement, and was petrified that they would kick her out when she'd only just got back.  

But Y/N knew that in order for this to go the way that she wanted it to, she couldn't afford to let thoughts like that show. Instead, she needed to make it clear to her brothers that she still stood by her decision to leave. She had been made stronger by her mistakes and experiences during her time away, and refused to let them believe otherwise.  

So, as Tommy cleared his throat to begin speaking, Y/N took a deep breath and looked up.

"Right, well, we're all here - "

"That we are!" Arthur's hand came down and rested on her shoulder roughly, causing Y/N to smile in amusement.

"Yes, thank you, Arthur." Tommy's gruff voice cut through the joy. "So, Y/N, would you care to tell us where the fuck you've been for five years?"

Out of instinct, the woman in question met her older brother's blue eyes, hoping to find the comfort and support that they had always shown to her in the days before the war. But there was nothing; not even the slightest bit of love, or encouragement, or anger or anything.

In that moment, Y/N realised that no one could help her – only she could tell the story.

And so, she began...

***

A couple of hours later, it was finally over.

Y/N had told them all about how she had been recruited as a British spy, recounted most of her tales (but not all – some of them were still highly confidential and as much as she loved Arthur and John, Y/N wouldn't trust them with a barge pole when it came to keeping secrets), and eventually about her time in hiding and return to Birmingham.

Miraculously, she hadn't shed a single tear. Not even when she'd recounted the worst trappings and beatings. Before coming down to the meeting, Y/N had debated whether or not to tell her family about those times, but in the end she knew that the full truth would come out in time and that it would be better to get all of the pain out of the way at once. Whether that pain was for Y/N or everyone else, she wasn't sure.

But Y/N also hadn't been able to suppress her laughs and smiles at the happier memories: the friends that she'd made, the clubs that she'd danced at undercover, the boys that she'd seduced whether as part of her mission or just for a bit of fun (Tommy may appear to be an expert at controlling his emotions now, but you bet that Y/N didn't miss his jaw clench in protective anger several times).

Now, silence filled the room. A silence that seemed to last for eternity for Y/N. Unable to cope with it for any longer, she spoke again, this time unable to control the waiver of emotion in her voice: "Please say something, anything. You lot have always got something to say," Y/N finished with a slight laugh. Unknowingly, she had directed her words at Tommy, who was staring at her, his eyes as cold as ice. Y/N hated the fact that she sounded like a little girl again, seeking his approval; Tommy's opinion had always been important to her, no matter how many times she had vehemently denied the fact when she was younger.

Surprisingly to her, it was John who spoke first, looking at her directly as he did so. "We're proud of you, Y/N/N."

"Yeah," Arthur continued, gruffly. "Just a fucking lot to take in, is all."

Silence infiltrated the room once more, only cushioned by Polly reaching over to grasp her niece's hand tightly.

Realising that Tommy wasn't going to speak any time soon, Y/N stood up as if to leave, her chair screeching horribly across the floor. "Well if that's it, I'll go and -"

"Why?" Her second eldest brother cut her off. Even though her back was now turned, Y/N felt his gaze burning into her.

"Why?" She repeated, confused, as she turned around.

"You heard me. Why did you go?"

"Christmas had long gone, Tommy. I needed to do something other than sit around in Small fucking Heath waiting for you lot to come back. I tried to help with the business, you know I have ideas. But I got nowhere because I'm a woman, alright? So, when an opportunity arose to go and do something useful, of course I was going to jump at it."

Tommy scoffed. "Do you realise how fucking selfish you sound?"

Y/N's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"Even after you knew that the war wouldn't be ending any time soon, you still went gallivanting off, throwing yourself headfirst into danger. Did you not stop to think that this family could have lost another member? You clearly didn't, because apparently all that matters to you is getting a rush of adrenaline and trying to be the hero."

Crack. The sound of Y/N's open palm meeting Tommy's cheek echoed through the room.

"How dare you, Thomas Shelby." Y/N's voice was deadly quiet, her rage and feelings of betrayal bubbling ferociously inside of her. "How fucking dare you. After everything that I've just told you, you have the nerve to stand there and call me selfish? I knew that when I signed up there was a chance that I might not come back, but I did it anyway, you're right. I did it in the hopes that my work may help to end the bloody war sooner, so that it was more likely that you boys would come home alive. Because if none of you came back, have you thought, Thomas, how wrecked this family would be? Not just emotionally, but financially as well. There would be three women, Finn, and John's kids left and that would be it. We would hardly be able to bring enough money in to keep everyone safe and together forever, at least not until the children had grown up. As much as you might not like it, Tommy, that I knowingly put myself in a situation where I could've been killed, I did it to try and protect this family."

If Y/N had looked around at her family at that moment, she would have witnessed the shock and pain etched onto the face of each person around the table. None of them had realised that she had put so much thought into her decision to leave. Instead her eyes were locked with those of her brother, unwilling to back down.

Breaking the silence, Y/N added bitterly, "Still think I'm selfish, Thomas?"

She didn't know what she'd expected.  

Y/N knew that Tommy wouldn't take it all well, and whilst his instinct to protect her and make sure that she was safe typically overrode everything else, she had hoped that he would have at least understood her reasons behind her actions. He had always said that family came before anything else. So, when Tommy barged past her, storming out of the shop and slamming the door behind him, Y/N couldn't help the sob that escaped her.

***

Dusk had settled over the city. Y/N was sat by the Cut, mulling over the events of the last 48 hours.

After Tommy had left, she had broken down completely, letting out all of the emotion that she had kept pent-up for so long. Her siblings, aunt and cousin had told her that Tommy would come around, and that they would do anything that they could for her.  

But, as much as she adored her entire family, she needed Tommy; she needed the brother who had stood by her through thick and thin, who had always trusted her judgement and always loved her no matter what. She hadn't realised how much she had needed him until he had turned his back on her completely.

When most of her tears had dried, Y/N left the shop herself, murmuring a quick "I'll be back later" before she did. The family had let her go, knowing that she needed the time and space to process everything and calm down.

A few hours later, she did feel calmer as she took in the familiar surroundings (a hidden spot next to the Cut that her and Tommy had found when they were younger and hiding from their father). That was until she heard footsteps quickly approaching her from behind...

***

Tommy's mind was racing at a mile a minute.

Once again, he'd gone and ruined things with his family. He'd probably destroyed his relationship with Y/N for good, something that he couldn't bear the thought of losing. His little sister meant the world to him; it just hurt him to know that she had been through so much by herself, and that he hadn't been able to stop it. At least in the trenches he'd had his brothers by his side. Y/N had no one.

But he could help her now. He had realised that after hiding himself away in the Garrison with his thoughts. He'd realised that his place was now back by his sister's side once more.

Tommy had made his way back to the shop to try and make amends, and marched straight over to Polly. "Where is she?" His voice may not have shown it to his aunt, but she could see the emotion in his eyes. Polly was glad that her nephew seemed to have got some of his sense back, but she sure as hell wasn't going to make things easy for him. Tommy's behaviour had been despicable, after all.

"She left." Polly said, simply, returning to her work.

"Left?"

"You heard me, Thomas." God, how many times was he going to be full-named today?

"Left where?"

"She didn't say."

Tommy felt a niggle of anxiety stirring in him. "Well, did she say when she'd be back?"

"No." Polly's lips were pursed in irritation.

"You let her wander off alone, I take it, without asking where she was going or what she was doing, eh? Do you know how fucking stupid that is? We've only just got her back, and you're risking losing her again?"

"Perhaps you should listen to your own words. At least I wasn't the one who caused her to have a panic attack." It was harsh, but partly true: the combination of the memories and Tommy's reaction had caused Y/N to spiral.

Tommy froze, worry and guilt consuming him. How could he have let this happen? He had spent half of the night in Y/N's bedroom last night, making sure that she was real and safe, and now she was gone again.

Walking back out of the shop, Tommy found himself hiding in an alleyway, trying to collect his thoughts as his hands shook. Where could Y/N be? Where would she go when she was scared and upset?

Suddenly, he knew.

***

The hurried footsteps drew nearer, and instinct took over Y/N's entire being. She spun around, gun cocked and pointed straight at the source of the noise, her breathing speeding up again as the last ebbs of her panic attack began escalating quickly again.

Any relief that Tommy had felt at finding his sister faded at seeing her distressed state. He raised his hands slowly and spoke softly to her: "It's okay, Y/N/N. It’s just me, it's Tommy. You're home, you're safe." As he continued to offer his reassurances that she wasn't under threat and edged closer to her, he noticed recognition begin to sweep over Y/N.

Her gun clattered to the ground as she broke down into tears again, relaxing into her brother's embrace as he sat down next to her and pulled the young woman into his arms. In that moment, Tommy realised how broken his sister was, how much the war had affected her, just like him.

Eventually, Y/N's breathing became normal again, the sound of Tommy's heartbeat and the gentle hand stroking her hair grounding her.

After a few moments, Tommy mustered up the courage to say the words that had been on repeat in his head for so long. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Y/N looked up at him with those big eyes that had him wrapped around her little finger. "I was...overwhelmed and I lashed out, even though you didn't deserve it. Hell, you probably even saved our lives at some point and all I do is call you selfish. I went too far, and I'm sorry."

Y/N smirked slightly at Tommy's obvious discomfort at his confession, but it melted into a gentle smile when she looked up and was met with his loving yet troubled gaze.

"Thank you, Tommy." His entire demeanour relaxed at these words. "Do you understand though? Do you understand why I did it all in the first place? Do you understand why your reaction broke me? All I needed was for my brother to be there, and you just walked out on me. You promised me that you never would. You promised."

Tommy took her hand tightly in his larger one and nodded slightly, a lump forming in his throat. His other hand settled in his coat pocket as he asked: "Are you really back to stay?" The vulnerability that had been uncovered again last night had now returned.

"Yeah, I am." Y/N squeezed his hand. "Doesn't mean you're completely forgiven yet though; speak to me like that again and I'll cut you a smile on that grumpy face."

Tommy breathed out a slight laugh, despite the threat (which he knew was an honest one). "Oh, I missed you, darling." He wrapped his arm around Y/N and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Missed you too, Tom."

***

The siblings sat there, peacefully, for a little while longer. Whilst part of Y/N was still angry at her brother, she couldn’t deny that she felt at home back by his side, in their special childhood hiding place. So, for now, she decided to put her anger behind her.

Soon enough, the chill of the night air began to settle around them. Tommy offered Y/N a hand up and wrapped his long black coat tightly around her, before the pair slowly started walking back towards the streets of Birmingham.

“I promise I’ll try and be better, for you.” Tommy’s voice cut through the silence. I can’t bear the thought of you leaving again because I pushed you out, he added in his head.

Y/N smiled sadly. “Don't make promises you might not be able to keep, Tom. We’re different people compared to who we used to be. All we can do is try, eh?”

Tommy stopped off at the office to call Polly and let her know that Y/N was staying with him for the night. Y/N found herself looking around the big building, in awe of what her family had managed to achieve.

She plunged her hands in the big pockets of Tommy's coat as a shiver wracked her body, frowning when her fingers touched something familiar. Checking that her brother was still on the phone, she pulled the object out and her eyes widened in surprise as she stared at it. It was a small stuffed toy, shaped to resemble a horse (sort of, it was definitely handmade).  

Y/N had loved it when she was younger, and barely used to be seen without it. When she grew into a teenager, she had hidden the toy in her old childhood treasure box and retrieved it when she felt low, even as she had entered adulthood. She had been devastated when she couldn't find it to comfort her the day that her brothers had left for France.

The horse was more frayed and tattered than she remembered, and dirtier too. Y/N had always been meticulous for looking after her possessions, not having much of her own.  

Then the explanation for its state and whereabouts dawned on Y/N: Tommy had taken it to France and kept it with him ever since, a constant reminder of her.

Placing the toy carefully back where she found it, Y/N looked through the glass to Tommy’s office with tears in her eyes as he hung up the phone. A small smile flickered across his face as he caught sight of his sister and made his way straight to her, not a single piece of work in his hands.

"Come on," Tommy said, softly. "Let's go home."

As her brother subtly offered her his arm, Y/N felt optimistic about the future for the first time in years. As Tommy rested his hand on top of hers, which now sat in the crook of his arm, one thought crossed Y/N's mind:

Maybe Tommy would try. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

But the Shelby family knew that there was hope, because Tommy's guiding light always came in the form of Y/N Shelby...and she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

[wtfisgoingonanymore]

Birthdays In Camelot

Sooooooooo three of my very good and very dear friends had their birthday and I wanted to do something for them. I know this isn’t much, but 1. I am dead inside and school continues to kill me, and 2. …yeah. I’m dead inside. I just wanted to dedicate a little something to you three amazing beautiful perfect angels because you guys are some of the best people ever and you’re always so kind and nice to me. I wanted to return the favor somehow someway. I probablyyyy should’ve made three separate ones for each of you, but I have multiple papers to finish up for next week. I’ll try and do better next time, but for now this is all I have.

So!!! in the spirit of @gayfirebender @thatone-nerdygirl and @junemo10 , this is for you.

Birthdays:

Birthdays are a big thing for Merlin. When he was in Ealdor, he and his mother didn’t really have enough money to celebrate in a big way.

It was usually a slightly better porridge or a new tunic if they were REALLY lucky.

So when Merlin started earning his wages, he immediately looked for the best present he could ever get his mother and then he one upped it the next year

It started out with a delicious meal stolen from the royal cook herself and worked it’s way up to a dress that looked simple enough for a peasant but felt like it was made for a queen

Having ties to Arthur sure helped that out

SO! because of Merlin’s love for birthdays, you know he goes all out for all his friends

It makes Percival so. soft. whenever Merlin skips to him on his birthday and gives him a present

His favorite, by far, is when Merlin gave him an amazing little tree that he takes care off very well. (It’s a magical bonzai.)

Elyan is excited for his birthday cause Merlin gave him the best gifts. His favorite is definitely the new armor design that Merlin drew up based on different knights from different kingdoms. Elyan made it and uses it for himself and himself only.

Leon was very surprised to get a gift from Merlin. It was long long ago when Arthur was still prince and they barely spoke at all.

He was surprised to catch him in his room- setting down a basket full of large bottles.

Merlin was a blushing embarrassed mess at being caught. He and Leon had never had a proper conversation since before that.

He stuttered his way to explain that he knew Leon was constantly aching from past battle wounds, so he made large batches of Gaius’ special salves and potions for Leon to use. That is objectively the best gift Merlin ever got for him because of the memory that came with it.

However, Merlin setting him up on a date with George will soon be the best one yet.

Gwen is a pouty baby because “Merlin! You didn’t have to get me anything! I’m already happy with our friendship.”

She accepts the gifts anyway. Her favorite is definitely the specially made and designed family seal that is dedicated to her father. She cried so much and keeps it with her all the time

Gwaine. Ohhhhh Gwaine. His gifts started out fun, you know? A pint of mead, Finally being able to take Merlin out for a pint, A fully paid night of drinking. Those sort of stuff

But then Merlin goes and starts writing him all these long ass letters. All these letters that talk about how much Merlin appreciates him and how great of a person he is

And Gwaine never fails to ugly cry on those letters. He keeps them all in a special box- it remains his most prized possession.

Lancelot counted himself lucky. With Magic now an available option, Merlin gave Lancelot the best of the best presents from day one of their friendship.

His absolute favorite present, however, is the magichand made knight’s armor, outfit, and sword that Merlin made for him after becoming a knight. It was enchanted too because obviously

Gaius, like Lancelot, got some of the best gifts ever with the help of magic.

Merlin gave him tons of very exotic and new herbs and plants to work with. He’d summon them from a land far away just for Gaius and then plant them somewhere, so he’d have more.

But the best one by far is the new equipment Merlin got for him. Each and everyone had words painted or etched onto it: “Best Father Figure” “Best Physcian” “Best Mentor”. It was nice little reminders that touched Gaius’ heart constantly

Before Morgana left, Merlin’s gift to her were not at all the exquisite gifts that she normally got. No, it was much much better.

Merlin always gave her a peasant’s dress and snuck her out to explore the lower town with him. They’d buy little random trinkets and food and then go out to play and eat in a forest clearing far away from the tyranny and the hate and the duties of royalty.

She didn’t realize until later on that those were the best presents because Merlin always took her to a place where magic was most alive and beautiful and calming and thriving.

Arthur’s birthday was always a tricky one for Merlin. This was his other half and the man he was kinda a little bit very in love with- it had to be perfect.

But in the end, it didn’t really take much thinking at all. This was his other half and the man he was very much in love after all.

Arthur would never be able to decide what his favorite gift from Merlin was. Anything that man gave him, he absolutely loved with all his heart

He didn’t know if it was the refurbished painting of his mother or the tiny farm that was set up for the both of them when they needed a break or maybe all the necklaces and letters and bracelets and tunics Merlin crafted especially for him.

He does know which one he takes especially good care of- even more so than his farm and painting. The most precious gift Merlin has ever given him: His magical heart.

And so obviously, Merlin had to have the best birthday of them all. While everyone got him nice gifts too, they had to give him the best one after a very stressful and bumpy magic and love revealing year.

Normally, it would’ve been a feast. Arthur knew that was definitely not the case. This was Merlin- he wanted it small and intimate.

They set up the nice round table dinner with just their group of friends.

Merlin was already crying when they brought them there.

After eating, they’d all give their gifts to him one by one. Just seeing his friends line up made Merlin cry with appreciation again. Arthur made him sit on the throne for this one.

Percival grinned wide as he gave Merlin pots of the most beautiful flowers and herbs that would typically be needed in potion making.

Elyan was practically bouncing off the walls as he presented a staff he made alongside the druids.

Gwen had to shove Elyan out of the way to present the very special hand made outfits she made for him- fit for royalty.

Leon smiled and chuckled as he gave him the exact same potions and salves Merlin gave to him that first time because now he knew that Merlin needed it too.

Gwaine smirked and stuck his tongue out as he went out and brought back Hunith with him. While they were greeting each other, he slipped his very long and more tear-inducing letter with the rest of Merlin’s gift.

Gaius smiled as he gave Merlin a key. A key to his new magical workshop that Gaius and his very bad back worked on. Later on, Merlin would cry in there as he read all the labels Gaius put everywhere: “Best Son” “Best Warlock” “Best Student” “My Best Merlin.”

Arthur was nervous ash he walked up to Merlin. He tried to speak three times before sighing in defeat. He handed him a scroll that officially declared the magic ban lifted.

Merlin was sobbing at that point. He didn’t know how it could get any better really.

Except that Morgana burst in with a gust of wind in a true dramatic fashion.

Everyone was on defense immediately as they turned to face her.

They all let out different gasps and choked sobs when they were not faced with a wild haired all black outfit Morgana, but with a Morgana in a peasant dress, a basket in hand full of knickknacks and food, and tears in her eyes.

Later on in the night when Merlin slipped into Arthur’s arms, he got his final greatest present.

Ygraine’s ring and four words.

“Will you marry me?”

[thepeakygurl]

Can we get a John x reader I really don’t have anything specific in mind 🥺 just maybe that he ends up meeting reader while he’s already married or something, make it angsty but with a fluffy ending pls 😈

A/N: I went a bit out of script with this one, but my reasons is that I want to do a part 2 of this one with the possibility of doing a love triangle, but you readers would have to tell me who you want as John’s rivals. I really hope you like it. I was so inspired by this one. Romantic John is my favourite John! @huskyhunny thank you for requesting babes again sorry changing stuff, but I promise the angst and the fluff will come in due time! Hope you enjoy it✨

The Royal Ballet | Part 1

John Shelby x Fem!Reader

Scenario

That night was cold you recalled. You were right up on stage, ready to give your best performance, but the wind that was whispering through the stage made you shiver and as a result you tilted back a little. You heard the director of the opera murmuring you to stay still, as the curtain and drapes where starting to open and reveal you. In your harmonious posture, with a sateen white dress covering your body, but revealing your legs and your ballet shoes. When the music started to play, your body started to move along with it. You gracefully dance from a corner to another, spinning and jumping. You hair was free on you shoulders an artistic choice made by the director who was now trying to take a peek at the audience.

Amazed. The audience couldn’t take their eyes off the amazing ballerina that everyone was hearing about lately. Y/N Y/S, the artist that everyone wanted to see swinging on stage. You were known best to be the first act of the Royal Ballet in London and also, the reason why everyone bought the ticket in the first place. There was something about how your gracefully made art using your body that simply left everyone in the urge of wanting more and more.

Soon enough even the most influent please in the City had to have a taste of what you could do, and that was one of those night. You recalled hearing the director speaking about how the Peaky Blinders reserved some tickets, the best seats. However you couldn’t believe that such men would have spent their hours into watching the show, you knew that there was more, but you couldn’t crush the director’s hopes.

Thomas, Arthur and John Shelby were all there, seated in the best seats, but they attention were elsewhere - or part of their attention -.

Thomas was seated next to Darcy Sabini, trying to have a decent and peaceful business conversation, he took the chance knowing Sabini wouldn’t ruin the spectacle as he invested in the theatre and part of the money made that night was his. Arthur was carefully listening to their conversation, seated by his Thomas’ side, he had a hand inside his jacket, holding his gun and was ready to take it out at any time. The youngest brother however, forgot about the purpose of their attendance for a second. He was completely drawn by how your body was moving and how your face was telling so many stories in such a short time. His eyes couldn’t stop looking at you, how your dress sometimes lifted revealing a gown that was meticulously fitted around your body, how your hair covered your face whenever you spinned and the smile you would always make whenever your eyes looked over to the audience. Your skin glowing with all the lights pointing at you and the way you would end up on your feet after every scary jump. Those shoes must hurt, he thought. Spectacular that was spectacular. When your act was over and you came closer to the audience to take your compliments and applauses, you smiled and took a little bow, before running to the backstage in order for the second act to start and so the other ballerinas came in, giving the start to another magical story. John looked at Arthur and Thomas, both still in the middle of the conversation. If he did his move now, he would have probably came back before the second act was over so he slowly started to stand up. Arthur as the eagle he was, looked over him and grabbed his jacket “Where you think you’re going? Sit your arse down”

“Got to use the loo, you wouldn’t want something else to be sit in this seat with my arse ye” John quickly explained, which made Arthur relax as he walked away.

He didn’t even notice if the girl was beautiful, at this point it didn’t matter, her essence was beyond the door of beauty, but he knew that if he didn’t talk to that angel she would have come into his dreams and made them sweet nightmares. So he stepped quickly into the backstage, hoping that his brothers would have still leaned their attention to Sabini. Surprisingly no one was there to stop his, the place was filled with costumes and jewels, he was surprised that with so many choices, the girl was only wearing a simply white dress. But then he thought that maybe it was the perfect choice as she was brighter that millions of them jewels.

You were in the middle of changing your dress for the last act, a tribute to Romeo and Juliet, that required you to wear a more elegant and complicated costume. There was two of the assistants that were helping you tighten the corset “Easy now..” you moaned when one of them laces were pulled suddenly. When you looked at yourself in the mirror to make sure your corset was fitted properly, you saw his reflection as well and that made you gasped in surprised.

And he was surprised as much as you were, his cheeks slightly turning into a deep red as he watched how the corset made your body bloom into its shape. “I am sorry I didn’t want to intrude.” He quickly said turning himself to give you the chance to cover yourself.

“We don’t usually receive admirers during the play” you said, telling the two assistants to quickly fix your skirt and so they did and left. “Perhaps you could tell me who you were looking for and come back at the end of the play” you suggested and walked towards him.

When he heard your voice closer now, he turned to face you and that’s when it hit me. Not just talented as an angel, heaven gifted you also with beauty. He couldn’t help but smile at you “I’m here for you” he said “I couldn’t resist and wait the end of the play, I hope you won’t mind my impatience, but I desperately wanted to meet the woman that is now going to haunt my dreams”

And you chuckled, never in your life you met someone so blunt, blunt and handsome. Such light blue eyes that you could swear to have seen some clouds in them “No one ever complained about me haunting their dreams.” You said. He took a few steps closer, but you didn’t move, instead you bit your lips trying to hold a smile.

“Maybe, only if you allow it, they could turn into sweet dreams” he said slowly sliding the tips of his fingers through your arm, and that made you shiver ten times more than the cold surrounding the stage. He gently held your hand in his and took it close to him so he could place a small kiss on it. Such a small and usual contact, but it made your whole body burn. “I’m John Shelby, and you are?”

You proceeded and say your name. You were by then already drowning in his eyes that it took you a few seconds before you actually realised who he said he was. But did it really matter? So charming and handsome, two combination that always got you smitten. You let go of his hand that he was still smartly keeping on yours “You said you came here for me, but I don’t see any flowers, or rather compliments coming out of your mouth. I thought you were an admirer” you said, now allowing yourself some space and you moved closer to the mirror to do your make up.

John felt his chest less heavier now that he had some space within you two. Having you so close and not being able to do anything but looking at you with desire was nothing but torture “I’m not that type of admirer miss Y/S” he said while lighting up a cigarette “You were stunning, but my eyes looked over the artist and saw a woman” he justified himself and his presence there, the cigarette slowly burning out in his lips as he was too drawn in your curves and how you moved to even care about smoking.

And you almost forgot you were putting lipstick on as you stopped, your arm lifted in the air with your hand close to your lips with a small red tinted brush, looking at him through the mirror again “Correct if I’m wrong, but I believe to have seen a ring on your finger” you said, now turning towards him once again, your back touch the edge of the table and your arms crossed to your chest, a small smile over your lips now that he was all stiff and his chest less puffed. “Married in front of God and now using words to allure another woman?”

John was really one that would go to church or act before the name of God, after all he couldn’t possibly do such a thing and do what he does at the same time. So he just smiled back “God himself couldn’t resists to temptation and made us, in all shapes, colours and form. Who am I then to not allow myself of the pleasure of having a conversation with you? God made us to be happy, I’m quite happy right now if you ask me” And he finally decided to turn off the cigarette, placing it behind his ear.

You couldn’t help yourself but laugh. He looked so young but so manly at the same time, a bit of an unrefined look, but such languid words “You don’t love your wife then?”

“Love can mean many things” he answered deceiving your question.

“Do you love her?” You asked again.

“I am loving you right now.” He then said.

And that did something to your heart and stomach, that quickly came filled with butterflies. “I have another act in lees then five minutes, perhaps you could take me home and tell me more about your perception of love” you said with a bright smile and your face, which he quickly to returned. If only you knew how much trouble that offer of yours would have gotten you into...

[frenchmemories]

Renaissance (Chapter 1/?)

Series: Axis Powers Hetalia (APH) Ship: FrUk NSFW: Yes

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It was late. One-thirty in the morning to be exact.

He didn’t know where he was going at a time like this. All he knew is that he wanted to get away from home right now. He barely got his phone and wallet into his pocket in his desperation to leave his house.

His dreams have become less subtle and more violent. It became harder to ignore. He used to be able to shrug it off after a few minutes and go back to sleep but recently, that had been nearly impossible. He found himself slipping back into his old habit of smoking late at night a couple of times just to stop the pounding on his chest every single time he would dream about it. It was getting worse.

His dreams have consisted of nothing but what happened. That night that he watched him walk away from him and out of the door. It was that night where the alcohol and the sex weren’t enough to pacify the explosion that was waiting to happen. The ticking time-bomb that was their relationship. Jealousy, pride, and lust truly were demons that ate you from the inside. They turn love into a minefield that could be catastrophic with one wrong move.

0--0--0--0--0

“Arthur, I don’t know what you are talking about.” Francis groaned after a sigh. He’s been dealing with this whole on-then-off-again relationship with this man for about four months and it’s been… bittersweet.

Francis loved him. Truly he did. He adored Arthur from the tips of his disheveled, blond hair to the last inch of skin on his body. Every breath out of his lips was a prayer that Francis held on to and revered. There was no denying that Arthur was a beautiful man. His sharp, green eyes and his thick, downturned eyebrows, as well as his skin that put cream and roses to shame. Arthur made every hair on Francis’s body stand with every time he would see him as a whole, sprawled against his velvet blankets.

However, Arthur was an unhappy man. He was jealous, insecure, and easily stressed. He makes small things feel like unsurpassable mountains. A look, a change of tone, a sudden silence, all could mean huge to him. Francis often felt like he was treading on eggshells around Arthur and was often being careful not to upset him. He found this to be absolutely tedious, but he bore it with grace as Arthur was the complete opposite when he was happy. Arthur was affectionate and loving when he was happy. When Arthur was happy, Francis was too.

Today was not one of those days though. Judging from the tight, downward line that his lips had taken shape into and the heavy, deafening silence he’d been emanating, Arthur had a lot to say that he kept inside him. So many unsaid things pounded behind the door of his curt reply as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t play dumb.”

Francis couldn’t help the exasperated scoff that he let out. His hand shakily flew to his head, his fingertips massaging his temples and his eyes closed in strain. Frustrated. Annoyed. He could almost feel how long he would have to work to stabilize his lover.

“Arthur, please-” he began, his voice a little tense and high. “I just want to know what is going on. Don’t make me guess again. How are we supposed to sort things out if you don’t talk to me?”

Arthur’s frown intensified as he heard Francis strain to keep his voice level. Shouldn’t he be the one frustrated and not Francis? He uncrossed his arms and he sat down on the bed, turning to Francis, equally frustrated.

“You have been doing a lot of overtime at work, you’ve been unreachable on your phone, and you’ve been too tired every single time you come home. We barely do anything anymore. Your weekends are always packed with activities with those two lunatics that are your friends-“ he rambled, pausing when he saw Francis’s eyebrows knit as he made that remark about his friends. “I just don’t know where I fit in to all of this. I can’t help but be a little suspicious Francis.”

Francis’s hand ran through his blond locks, and he bit his lips, a habit he’s developed out of stress. Here it is again. The jealousy and suspicion. He has become so adept at dealing with this, but he has become increasingly aggravated the more he had to.

“Arthur, it’s a job. I need to focus. I am working overtime because we are planning that vacation to Santorini in 2 months right? You need money for that-“

“- I KNOW THAT Francis. I am not a child!” Arthur interjected

Francis only gave him a look and a little raise of his eyebrow. “-then stop behaving like one. As for my friends, I have only gone out with them twice last week and none at all the weeks prior. Am I not allowed to spend some time with them?” he asked, his voice increasingly getting more tense and on the verge of breaking. “You got to keep me almost all the other days before that, Arthur. I am allowed to have a life outside this relationship you know?”

Arthur stood up and turned around to face away from him. He struggled to find words for his frustration and was combing his brain for a reply. It seemed that with the way Francis said his piece, it would make anything he said in response sound unreasonable and demanding. He groaned.

“I know that.” Was all he could manage. He frowned heavily and walked towards the cupboard where his liquor was. He heard a small “…of course…” from Francis as he grabbed a bottle and a glass only to start pouring himself a bit of bourbon.

The silence that followed was so heavy that Francis couldn’t help but just sit on the small armchair at the corner of their room. He leaned back heavily and threw his head back against the back of the couch, then sighed and closed his eyes. He could hear the soft sound of liquid pouring into a glass and Arthur setting the bottle down on the wooden desk. He could hear the quiet gulping sounds from Arthur’s drinking. He could even hear the soft whirring noise of the radiator and the faint, muffled noises outside that were leaking through the window. He sighed once more.

“I’m sorry” he whispered. This was routine too. He would apologize. He would always apologize just so they could finally make up. He was the type who couldn’t sleep unless they were on good terms. So, he would apologize. Always.

“I’m sorry Arthur.” He repeated firmly and didn’t open his eyes or made a move to look at him.

He waited.

Soon he heard shuffling and movement towards him. He stayed still. It was coming and he knew it.

Finally, he felt the soft hand on his shoulder and the slow adding of Arthur’s weight on top of him. His legs adjusted so he would catch Arthur slowly latching on to his lap. He waited a bit more and soon felt soft lips on his cheek. His hand naturally moved to pull Arthur closer by the waist. He let off a soft breath and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by those soft green ones, looking at him intently. His hand squeezed Arthur’s waist and he lifted his own chin up, leaning into Arthur’s proximity. Arthur took the cue and leaned down to kiss him.

He kissed back softly but keenly, and softly grunted. His lips moved with a slow need. He deepened the kiss a little more and now held Arthur with both hands on his thighs, gently squeezing. Arthur’s one hand pulled at his hair gently while the other rested casually over his shoulder. He could taste the bourbon on Arthur’s tongue.

This was how it always went. They would fight. They would get frustrated. They would stop, issue still unresolved. Arthur would drink and Francis would apologize. Then this. The heat would come. The touches would come. The passion takes over and he gets reminded on why he stays. He remembers how much he loved and wanted Arthur, and he would succumb. He would always surrender first and pull him closer to him, where he deemed Arthur belonged.

Francis groaned softly as Arthur’s resting hand began to move to unbutton his shirt while they continued kissing. He could already feel his pants tightening a bit and he was absolutely sure Arthur could feel that too. He felt the small smirk on Arthur’s lips in response to it. His face was heating up. His own slender fingers toyed with the button on Arthur’s trousers and popped it open. He was satisfied with the soft gasp he received in response.

“Francis….” Arthur whispered heatedly. Francis shuddered every time that Arthur would call his name that way. The needy, flustered breathlessness of it was like a drug to Francis. He hears it and he gets greedy to hear it more.

He couldn’t help how he squeezed at Arthur’s thighs before he pulled those pants down and exposed the pale, smooth skin of Arthur’s hips and legs. He growled softly. He would get to see it again. Arthur’s dangerous beauty.

“Mon amour….” He hummed softly. He took off those offending trousers and simultaneously, Arthur also slid Francis’s shirt off of him. Arthur’s beautiful fingers were now on Francis’s skin, exploring. Meanwhile, Francis gently moved his lips off of Arthur’s and moved more to his jaw and neck. He softly kissed one after another until he was at his nape. He then sucked softly, his hands now on Arthur’s ass, squeezing. Arthur stretched his neck and leaned his head to the side, letting out a breathy moan. Francis’s blood rushed.

All traces of the fight forgotten; Francis suddenly braces to lift Arthur. The other man must have felt it coming and moved to wrap both legs around him as Francis stood. He gently set the Brit down onto the bed and crawled atop him. His hands slid down to hold on to Arthur’s knees to hold his legs up, his lips still on Arthur’s neck, paying it the attention it deserved. He licked softly and nibbled at his skin. Arthur let out a breathy and flustered chuckle before whispering. “Git… don’t leave too many marks.”

He laughed softly as well before gently starting to rub their members together. He pulled back to look at Arthur’s face and wasn’t disappointed. He was greeted with such a lewd, erotic expression while Arthur panted and bit his lips, eyes closed, a couple soft moans escaping him.

“Mine” Francis mumbled.

That was that. Another cycle continues of them solving their problems through this, yet again. Francis heavily disagreed with this at first but after a few times of their arguments ending this way, his body craved it in a sick, twisted way. Each time they would fight, it would feel like his body anticipated the heat. As if it was automatic. There were times he found himself aroused by their arguments as he knew what came after. He hated it. He loved it.

-END OF CHAPTER 1-

[sometimesitrytowritethings]

Mountain Man: Part 1

PART 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: You never thought you’d love again. Then Arthur Morgan came into town. Fate continuously has you meeting each other in odd ways, and a troubled past is something you are both familiar with. Perhaps that’s what will make this time different.

Notes: A MASSIVE THANK YOU to @morgans-whore for helping me out with this!!! If you haven’t read their work, please do so immediately. Also goddamn it I WILL figure out how to insert a read more break on mobile if it kills me.

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Smithfield’s Saloon was a bustling, loud mess when you entered, as was typical for a Friday evening in the small town of Valentine. The place was only a couple of years old, fully built from the timber milled in nearby Strawberry and lit by strategically placed oil lamps, giving it a sepia-toned glow that you could bask in all evening. Several tables were scattered about the sparsely-decorated room, a larger one covered in green cloth currently hosting a nightly low-stakes poker game.

You made your way inside, taking off your light jacket since escaping the mild chill in the air and scanned the room, looking for your friends in the crowd. The piano man was playing one of the four songs in his repertoire, The Arkansas Traveller, as Quentin, the barber, swayed slightly in time to the music at his normal post in the back, beer in hand, and speaking to one of the saloon’s regular patrons. Jon, the old drunk, was sitting at his usual table, downing a bottle of whisky and ranting about something or other. After years of enduring his presence, you had finally been able to tune him out. Jedadiah, the bartender, nodded your way as your gaze wandered past him before serving Tommy, who seemed to already be well into his cups, another glass of whisky.

Dozens of other familiar faces were scattered about the room as you scanned it, finally spotting the two women chatting with two unfamiliar men at the end of the bar. After a rather long week working across the street at Saints Hotel, cooking, running baths, cleaning, and washing a couple of particularly unruly patrons, your good friends Anastasia and Margaret had invited you over to their place of work for a few drinks - on the house.

“Evening Anastasia, Margaret,” you call over the din of piano music, clinking glasses, and loud conversations. Anastasia was a freckled, firey redhead who was almost always getting into trouble. As was typical for an evening on the job, her white chemise was pushed down low on her chest, revealing her ample cleavage to entice more of the men into paying for a night with her. Margaret, on the other hand, was of a slimmer build and had lovely dark brown hair, pulled away from her doe-eyed face. She was always ready to flirt with anyone she sees and crack jokes on the regular, which definitely worked on many a man over the course of her career as a working girl. These women were two of the first friends you made when moving to Valentine with your soon-to-be husband almost a decade ago. They had been working at Keane’s back then, the older saloon down the street, but have since moved to the wealthier spot when it opened a few years ago.

They both look toward you and becon you over. “Hey hun, these handsome gentlemen are Javier and Charles. They’ve just come into town, isn’t that right?” Margaret explained, putting her hand on Charles’s bicep and giving it a flirty squeeze as she batted her lashes.

You gave a small snort and glanced over at the men. The one introduced as Charles had long, dark hair, dark skin, and shining brown eyes. He was very obviously an outdoorsman, slightly bulky and built for spending time in nature, wearing a tattered light blue shirt cinched at the hips by a gun belt. He nodded at you, but said nothing and took a sip of his whisky, eyeing you over the rim of the glass. Javier, on the other hand, took your hand from across the corner of the bar and gave it a quick kiss. Also dark-haired, his was cut significantly shorter and tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, Javier was slightly leaner than his companion, and was dressed in finer clothes - a charmer, no doubt.

They were both very handsome men, indeed, but you recognized Margaret’s tactic from a mile away: butter up the new ones with enough complements, keep them well in their liquor, and they’ll be coming back to you every night for their entire stay. You raised a hand to the bartender, ordering a round of whisky for the group.

“Why thank you, Mariposa,” crooned Javier, picking up the drink and nodding at you over the rim of the cup.

You laughed. “No need to try that with me, I don’t work here,” you teased, raising your glass to him before taking a long drink of your whisky. Jedadiah has given you the higher-quality bottle this time - good. Javier let out a laugh and went back to speaking with Anastasia, leaving you to sip your drink in silence for the time being. The slight burning sensation warmed your throat and then worked its way down to your belly, easing away the stress of the previous week. There really was nothing like a good glass to take the edge off.

As you finished your first drink, the door to the saloon suddenly swung open, drawing the attention of your companions. All four turned to face the new patron, the women leaning against the bar as the two men moved to greet their friend.

“Oh! Arthur!” called Charles, waving his hand towards the bar to summon him over.

“Arthur, come here, come here! Come over here! I want you to meet our friends.” Javier called and moved from the bar to smack his friend on the back. You turned as well, leaning your right side against the bar, drink still in hand, and taking in the handsome new patron.

He was average height, but bulkier than his friends - a powerhouse made of pure muscle. You were sure he could break you in half if you let him. His light brown hair was brushed haphazardly away from his face, which was slightly tanned from days spent in the sun. As you slowly dragged your eyes across his face you noticed two small scars on his chin, where his beard wouldn’t grow. His eyes, an alarming shade of teal, narrowed as he looked over your group, like something was missing.

“Pleased to meet ya,” he drawled, his voice deep and husky, likely from the combination of years on the road and smoking plenty of tobacco. His hands went to his hips, and he looped his fingers through his belt, looking around the room.

Anastasia seemed awestruck and was ready to dive in and cause plenty of trouble to get this man’s attention. The other two could wait for now. “Well ain’t you just the tough as teak mountain man?” she flirted, leaning against the counter and pushing out her chest so her bust was closer to eye-level.

“Oh, you be quiet Anastasia,” Margaret chided, also wanting a bite of the newcomer. “Anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat.” There it was. Margaret had tried one of her usual godawful jokes that somehow seemed to land her a client every time, and you tried your best not to laugh. Instead, you raised your glass to your lips, only to find it empty.

“Exactly!” Javier cut in. You turned to Jeb and held up your empty glass, which he promptly came over to refill. “He’s a pussy… cat. Ain’t that so, Arthur?” This time you did laugh, a very loud and uncomfortable snort that you couldn’t stop if you had tried.

You drew your refilled glass quickly to your lips, trying your best to cover for yourself. The new man glanced your way shortly before turning back to the other two women. If anyone else had noticed, they didn’t say anything.

The new man, Arthur, stepped a little closer to the group, looking your friends up and down. “How much you cost anyway?”

Anastasia, for some reason seemed genuinely offended, shock immediately overtaking her face. “Well ain’t that a nice way to talk to a lady?” she snapped, though you weren’t sure why. She was a prostitute after all.

Arthur leaned closer, an almost manic grin on his face. “Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady…” he teased. You immediately knew what he was up to. He needed his friends alone, and didn’t have the decency to just ask. Luckily, two could play at his game.

Anastasia balked. Sure, she wasn’t a ‘lady’ like those rich women in New York or San Denis, but she deserved at least a modicum of respect. She scoffed angrily and walked off with a grumbled, “excuse me,” pushing her way past the man, before glancing back at you to see if you were coming. You nodded, you’d be with them in a second. There was no need to stay in the bar and drink, you had plenty of liquor back at home. But before you leave, you may as well get the last word with the man who had, surprisingly accurately, insulted your friends.

“Oh, it’s alright, Anastasia,” you called after her, staying in position at the corner of the bar. You pointedly looked Arthur up and down before speaking again. “This one couldn’t afford one of us anyway,” you tossed at him with a wink over the rim of your glass. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you slowly took a drink.

Like a predator preparing to pounce on its prey, he moved slowly toward you, sizing you up. “That so?” he drawled, slowly dragging his eyes from where your feet were crossed at the hem of your skirt, to your hips leaning against the side of the bar, to your chest, where he paused for just a moment.

“Oh, most definitely,” was your response, accompanied by a practiced smirk. You may not have been a working girl in the saloon, but your years offering deluxe baths at the hotel across the street had given you more than enough practice at charming men. Even ruggedly handsome men who were likely to make you weak in the knees like this one.

His eyes snapped back up to yours as you spoke, a matching smirk gracing his lips. “Why don’t we see about that?” he teased, reaching for what you presumed was money in his satchel. If you had thought his voice was husky before, it was nothing in comparison to how it sounded now. Sultry, eager.

Before you could even begin to think of a response, you heard your name being called by Anastasia, who was standing impatiently at the door with Margaret at her side. “Are you coming?”

You felt the heat rise to your face as soon as the moment was over, but magically kept your composure. “Sorry, it turns out that my shift just ended,” you hummed, reaching up to straighten out his collar. Your fingers lightly brushed his skin and you swore he tensed and took in a sharp breath in that moment. Next, you gave him a light pat on the shoulder and started to walk away. You only had to remember not to look back.

Hips swaying, you headed towards the door, stopping briefly to grab your jacket from the coat hook along the way. “See you around, gentlemen,” you called, swinging the door open and stepping out into the cool night air, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. Perfect.

Anastasia and Margaret followed you out in a huff, brushing past another stranger who was staggering up the steps and into the saloon.

The walk back to the local boarding house, where you had been staying with your son for the past few years, was luckily a short one. However, almost the entire 10 minutes were filled with complaints from the other two women about the “uncivilised” and “incredibly rude” man, effectively ruining any hopes you had of continuing a fun evening with your friends.

“It’s such a surprise that he’s friends with those other two. They just seem so sweet, and he’s such a… such a brute!” ranted Anastasia, looking from Margaret to you for confirmation. “He’s got those ruggedly handsome looks, sure but, by god! How dare he talk to me like that! Can you even believe it?”

You wanted to laugh, but held it in. Your friend was already upset, there was no need to make it worse. Luckily, before you needed to say anything, Margaret cut in. “I know! What was he thinkin’? Even insinuatin’ you wasn’t a lady! You are the most ladylike woman in this town, Anastasia,” she rattled on, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders.

You did the same out of solidarity and played with a strand of her red hair. The three of you walked further, arms around Anastasisa’s shoulders. “He just wanted to get his friends alone, you know,” you told her after a few minutes of her angry silence, before moving your hand and squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. “He only said those things because he knows you two already had his friends wrapped around your fingers and they certainly weren’t about to leave,” you further elaborated with a wink to the redhead. Who knows if that was true, but it would most definitely make Anastasia feel better.

She sighed, her shoulders shrugging, and looked wistfully in the distance. “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right,” came her response. “We did have them on the hook pretty quick, didn’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely!” chimed in Margaret with excitement as you reached the large blue house on the outskirts of town. You glanced quickly to the second floor, and spotted your window. It was dark inside. “And it’ll be real easy to reel them in again tomorrow.”

The three of you burst into a fit of giggles as you reached the front porch. You dropped your arm from Anastasia’s shoulders and gave both women hug. “I think Ben is asleep, so I may turn in as well, if you two don’t mind.” The both nodded and hugged you back, saying quiet farewells and making their way further down the dirt road to their own homes.

The door opened with a slight creek as you stepped inside the dark house. It was a rather large house for this area, meant to house several farmworkers at the time it was built. Since then, a hotel and several other larger homes have popped up closer to town, leaving this one nearly empty most of the time. You rented a decent sized room on the second floor, and had done so for nearly five years running. It wasn’t luxury accommodation by any means, but it was away from the hustle and bustle of town, and it was more than affordable on your meager salary. Not to mention, the landlady had been a good friend of your late mother-in-law, and had been happy to offer your family a place to stay at a decent price, in exchange for occasional work around the house. Quietly, stepping over the floorboard that you knew let out a loud squeak when moved, you shrugged off your jacket, listening for the sounds of small footsteps pattering about on the second floor. Nothing.

What you did hear, however, were the sounds of a conversation coming from the kitchen. You walked down the dimly lit hallway to the room, where you found your landlady sitting at the table with a stranger. Your landlady, Ms. Chadwick, an older woman with a perpetually frustrated look on her face, sat in her nightgown, nursing a cup of hot coffee while the stranger looked over a piece of paper that had been laid in front of her on the table.

She was a pretty woman, about the same age as yourself, with dark brown hair neatly plaited down her back and clear, tanned skin, that almost glowed in the lamplight. Her clothes were obviously expensive and well cared for, and a pair of small, matching suitcases sat at her feet. Her nimble fingers with clean, neatly trimmed nails skimmed over the short paragraph on the paper. This was very obviously a woman who had never worked a day in her life. What on earth was she doing in Valentine, of all places?

“Thank you very much for the use of the spare room,” she said to the landlady, her voice boasted a light southern accent, like that of the debutantes in San Denis. “Your home is lovely, and little Ben is an absolute darling. I do so love staying in homes instead of hotels when I can and, of course, I am happy to help out where I can while I am here.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary dear,” she chided. “Your pay is more than enough. Please relax and enjoy your time here as much as you can. You don’t need any more stress on your shoulders.”

As Ms. Chadwick finished her sentence, the stranger seemed to notice your appearance in the doorway. “Oh!” she exclaimed, though keeping her voice down slightly. “You must be Ben’s mother! It’s wonderful to meet you. Your son and Ms. Chadwick greeted me this afternoon when I arrived, he’s a lovely little boy.” She stood up from her chair, skirts billowing around her ankles, and reached out to kiss both of your cheeks in what you had heard was a customary French greeting.

Although you were slightly taken aback by her forward attitude, the comment about your son brought a smile to your face. “Thank you very much. I like to think I’ve taught him well so far,” your responded, pulling slightly away from the new woman and introducing yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, voice sweet and still low enough as to not wake your son, sleeping soundly upstairs. “I’m Mary Linton.”

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Discovering New Horizons - pt. 2

Alrighty friends! I know I’ve taken a pretty long hiatus from writing, but it came at just the right time. Between family drama and finally beginning my career, I think I’ve found the rhythm of things. I’m hoping I can begin working on your requests again, but it probably won’t be as often as it was before (just due to time). 

Anyways, I’ve had multiple people ask for a sequel of this one shot, and I agreed that it needed one. So here it is! Please read part 1 if you haven’t (you will be confused).

Part 1 here

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Warnings: smut

Weeks have passed since you had that night with Arthur, where he hugged you and you discovered you could be vulnerable around him. The first few days after that had been very confusing and you hopped in and out of phases where Arthur could touch you and others where he couldn’t even get within a foot of you. Never did you attack him in those aversive moods, of course, but if he tried to stand close, you’d move. 

The phases of where you would allow him to touch you were the best though. The two of you spent the few days together hunting, gathering and exploring (the train Arthur used as a ruse to get you out of camp went unrobbed). When you wanted to be touched, he’d happily sit under a tree or near a stream and just hold you, and you held him back. Sometimes you cried as your brain processed everything, but Arthur never judged you. He found it incredible that, despite him hardly knowing a thing about you before, you were a very deep and complicated person. During the phases where you were being aversive, Arthur would give you your space without question. 

When the two of you got back to camp, it was hard for you to go back to trying to be the cold-hearted, hard shelled person you’d been for most of your life, especially when Arthur was around. When he was on a job, it was easy to do it because you didn’t trust the others the way you trusted him. But when he was around, it could be impossible at times. You’d try to sneak in little touches here and there when you could sneak them in, just brushes of his hand, putting your knee against his while sitting at the campfire. 

Of course, you didn’t give enough credit to the others in camp and how observant they were, and it wasn’t long before rumors began to spread that you and Arthur were involved. Only Abigail approached you about it, but you got a little overly aggressive about it (you hadn’t meant to, but you didn’t like the idea of sounding vulnerable around so many people), and after that, no one approached you. They did go to Arthur, but he wanted to make you comfortable so he did his best to squash the rumors. 

Then one night, you’d gotten emotional over something simple and you just needed to break down. Arthur was there and, although he tried to take you out of camp so you could let go where you’d be comfortable doing it, he couldn’t. So the two of you headed outside of camp and he just held you while you broke down into his chest, clutching his shirt. The two of you hadn’t heard Uncle approaching and he saw you cuddling together. After that, the cat was out of the bag that you and Arthur were together. 

It was difficult for you because you were convinced Arthur just viewed you as a friend who was kind enough to help you. Sure, you were falling head over heels for him, but you didn’t think the feelings were returned by him. You tried your best to stamp out the flames in camp, even getting mean about it, but no one took you seriously. Sean had even come up to you and draped an arm over you. 

“Ah, I always knew you had a soft core,” he said drunkenly. “No one is that mean through and through!” 

“Get your arm off me before I show you how mean I can really get,” you snarled. He chuckled but finally withdrew his arm. You glared at his back as he walked away. 

Over the next few days after that, people started to get on your nerves. They were seeing through your cracks and you hated it as they started having more jokes at your expense, daring to even try and touch you. Arthur seemed to sense it and he started pulling you out on jobs more and more to prevent you losing your patience and killing someone. 

The result of him doing this though was that you started to get even closer to him, both emotionally and physically. One night you were with him out in the Scarlett Meadows, sitting near the lake as the sun was setting. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear and the colors were vibrant. You and Arthur were sat around a little fire, wrapped in one another’s embrace. You’d been wondering for days if he had feelings for you. One thing led to another and the two of you kissed, affirming your hopes. 

Arthur was so sweet with you when you were out together. He made you feel safe enough to let down your thick walls and you were able to discover a lot about yourself, investigate the dark corners that you didn’t even know you had. 

Part of you felt foolish, weak, pathetic because you felt you should be able to do this all on your own. At one point, you voiced this to him. He put his hands on your shoulders. 

“Darlin’, from what you’ve told me about your family, they encouraged you to hide and got angry when you opened up. How could you not feel like you weren’t allowed to be open when they made you think it was wrong? But I’m willin’ to help you, sweetheart. Hell, I enjoy it. No one but me gets to see you like this, and that’s somethin’ real special.”

It was when he said things like this that made you feel warm inside, and it helped to remind you to be kind to yourself. You’d been holding too harsh of an expectation of yourself and it wasn’t healthy. 

A few days passed after your first kiss and there’d been a night in camp when you’d had nightmares. They were old, repetitive, but no less disturbing. For the first time in your life since you’d had them, you allowed yourself to cry over them. It made you feel stupid and foolish, but it also felt good to allow yourself to let down. 

However, you didn’t want to go through it alone, so you wandered over to Arthur’s tent and gently woke him. Despite the late hour, he proved to be a good audience. He held you while you told him what you’d dreamt, and then he invited you to stay with him the rest of the night, which you happily took up his offer (forgetting that you’d be seen by everyone else in the morning). 

When the others woke in camp, of course they saw you and soon that was all they mentioned when they saw you. It was almost like they enjoyed seeing you break like this (or at least that was how you perceived it). Finally Hosea pulled you aside. He comforted you and when you asked why the others were so persistently mentioning your change, he just smiled. 

“Because you’ve never been more human before, Y/N,” Hosea said. “Hell, pretty much everyone in this camp was frightened of you. No one wanted to get on your bad side because we’ve all seen what happens to the folks who do. But most of us know that no one is that mean and heartless through and through, and something in you has changed. I don’t know if it was Arthur, or if something else brought it about.” 

You didn’t tell him about that first day with Arthur, when he’d simply touched your hand and then hugged you at night. You’ve never mentioned it to another person, not even to Arthur, how it’s changed your outlook on yourself. 

“The point is, we’re all starting to see who you really are,” Hosea continued, “and from what everyone has been saying to you and about you, we’re liking what we’re finding.” 

He gave you a kind smile and patted your shoulder, something you’d never allowed before but did this time without hardly thinking about it. 

Part of you wished then and there to go and tell Arthur exactly how grateful you were to him for taking those steps that day, for breaking down your walls. But it seemed unlikely you would ever begin to know how to even put your feelings into words, nonetheless utter them to him. 

Now you’re riding behind him on your horse, heading towards Strawberry. You’d just finished with a job Micah brought around, wanting to rob a stage. The job was predictably a mess, every job Micah brought always was, but you and Arthur managed to get through it unscathed despite getting ambushed by the O’Driscolls in a river.

After Micah headed off with his portion of the stolen money, you noted that it was growing late in the day. Too late to begin heading back to camp, which would take a whole day in it of itself. Arthur noticed too and suggested going to Strawberry, which wasn’t far off, and you could get yourselves a bath and some real food. 

As the two of you enter the saloon in the town (which only serves the most diluted alcohol as it prides itself on being dry), Arthur takes your hand in his. While you both eat and talk, he keeps constant contact between you, whether its your hands touching or his knee against yours. He likes doing this, and you figure it must feel nice for him too as there aren’t many people he can be physically intimate with either. 

After eating, you both head over to the hotel. You pay for a bath right after Arthur pays for a room. “I should’ve paid for that,” he grumbles. 

“You don’t have to buy me everything, Arthur,” you retort. 

At the top of the stairs, you kiss Arthur before heading into the bath. Part of you wonders if he’s on the brink of asking if he can join. You’re not entirely sure you would say no. But he doesn’t. He just gives you a smile and heads into the room. 

After scrubbing yourself clean, you begin thinking about Arthur. Intimately. As you think about him and what you might like to do with him, you suddenly realize that you’d have to be completely vulnerable to him. No more dark corners to hide in. Can you do it? You’re still learning to be open with yourself, would it even be possible to be so raw and passionate with Arthur? 

As you continue to soak in the tub, you think about the past sexual encounters you’ve had. None of them had been passionate or out of love. Hell, none of them were even good. You’ve only had sex a handful of times, if you could even call it sex. None of them involved penetration, all the men had been drunk and you’d just lured them into thinking they were getting lucky so you could knock them out and rob them. Sure, you’d gotten naked and maybe even had to be a little handsy with one or two of them, but you’d been comforted by the knowledge they’d remember nothing of you or your body. But Arthur is sober. He will remember.

Suddenly you realize you want to do this with him. Something in your gut tells you it’s right. Perhaps by doing this you can completely free yourself of the chains you’ve worn most of your life. You want this. 

Before you have the chance to overthink things and talk yourself out of this, you climb out of the tub. Once you’ve dried yourself off, you purposefully avoid the mirror. Seeing yourself like this will definitely convince you not to show Arthur, how could he want to look at something so horrible? You try not to think of it and you see a silky bathrobe hanging near the door. 

After putting it on, you grab your clothes and head out and open the door to the room. Arthur’s sitting on the bed, writing in his journal. You’ve been tempted to read it but never wanted to invade his privacy like that. You’d be mad as hell if someone read your journal. 

Just as you toss your clothes into a corner, Arthur looks up and then his eyes widen at the sight of you in nothing but the bathrobe. 

“What you doin’, darlin’?” he asks. 

You bite your lip and head over to the side of the bed he’s sitting on. You feel slightly stupid, but try to squash the doubts that are quickly growing in your mind. 

You finally speak, trying to keep your voice steady despite how much you’re shaking. “I want you to see me, Arthur. All of me. I’m tired of hiding.” 

With that, you untie the robe, slip it open and then let it fall to the floor. You’re completely naked now. He swallows and his eyes leave yours and roam down your body. It’s hard but you resist the urge to cross your arms over yourself. 

Finally Arthur’s eyes return to yours and he stands up. “You sure, sweetheart?” he asks softly. You nod. 

“You’re shakin’, darlin’. Can I?” He lifts his hands to show he wants to touch you. 

With your heart pounding a million miles, you give him a stiff nod. You fully expect him to touch you somewhere intimately but instead he puts his hands on your shoulders. He bends down and kisses you softly, his hands gliding down your back. He hesitates and then goes to the cushioned flesh of your rear. He squeezes a bit and then his hands slide up your back. 

“You okay?” he asks as you’re still trembling. You nod once again and he smiles. Then his hands leave your body and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. You push his hands away and do it for him, suddenly hungry to see him in the same condition as yourself. 

The second you rip his shirt off, you drink in the sight of him. God he looks good. Broad shoulders, toned arms. The shape of his chest, the hair going down it, spattering across his stomach and trailing down beneath his pants. You admire the arch showing the definition of his ribs on his stomach. 

Just as you reach for his pants, he stops you and his hands gently slide around your neck. You almost flinch as you’re incredibly worried about your neck (having been attacked there far too many times), but he doesn’t squeeze or harm you at all. As you undo his gun belt and begin pulling his pants open, he kisses you. 

Finally his pants fall and you look down to admire his body. He looks better than your imagination gave him credit, and then your eyes go to his cock. Despite only being semi hard, he’s already a good size. You wonder how much bigger he can get. 

Just as you reach for him to test it, he stops you. “Darlin’, I wanna try somethin’. Somethin’ that might help ya.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re shakin’ like a leaf, darlin’. I know you ain’t that cold. You mind if I?” He gestures again that he wants to touch you and you nod, feeling a little more relaxed. 

His hands go to your hips and then he moves you so your back is to the bed and then, slowly and gently, he lays you down onto your back. Predicting where he wants to be, you spread your legs for him. Part of you just wants to get this over with so you can put your clothes back on, but that’s the part of you that’s dominated your life, the part that has kept you in hiding. You push it down and remind yourself to try to enjoy this. 

However, Arthur does not dive in. He isn’t touching you at all in fact. You look at him and glance down to his cock, which still isn’t fully erect. Your eyes go back to his, questioning. 

“Darlin’, I wanna touch you. I wanna touch you everywhere.” 

You realize he’s asking permission. He will not do anything without your consent. Feeling comforted, you nod and force yourself to stay still. 

Once again, he surprises you by not going directly to your intimate parts. Instead, his hands find yours and he traces them. His hands are warm, completely opposite of your own, and then he glides down your forearms, leaving goose bumps in his wake. Then down to your shoulders, across your clavicles and to your neck. You find yourself tilting your head back to allow him to touch you better, something you’d never do normally, but he feels so good. 

After studying your neck, his hands glide down and then he cups your breasts. You let out a pleasant sigh as he studies them, his calloused fingers roaming your flesh and then rolling your nipples between his fingers. It’s here you realize how wet you’re getting and you spread your legs a little more, showing him where you want him. But he doesn’t go there.

His hands glide down your stomach, almost tickling the skin. Finally he’s near your pubic area, but once again he avoids it, brushing down your thighs, down to your knees, your calves and finally your feet. He gently squeezes your feet, releasing some of the soreness there. 

By this time, you’re still trembling, but not out of fear. You need him. You need him to enter you. Your body is pleading for you to tell him. 

As if he can read your mind, or rather your body, his hands slip between your knees and he pulls them up and apart, completely exposing your most intimate area. You watch his face as he studies what you have to offer him and then you look down at him. He’s fully erect by now.

Just as you’re thinking about sitting up and grabbing him, his hands slide down your inner thighs. Then he spreads your folds and slips two fingers in, rubbing your most sensitive region. You let out a gasp. God, you’ve never felt this kind of physical pleasure before. As he rubs you, you can’t help but move your hips in time with his hand. He stimulates your center a few times and then his fingers move to your opening, sliding in slowly. 

“God, girl,” he groans softly. “Somethin’ tells me you’re enjoyin’ this.” 

“Arthur,” you whine. You need his cock inside of you. Your eyes meet and he smiles teasingly. 

Finally his fingers slide out of you and then you feel his head brush your opening. Your eyes are closed and you prepare yourself to take him. 

“I want you to watch this, darlin’,” he says in his deep voice. You force yourself to open your eyes and look down to your nearly joined bodies. Then you watch as he pushes himself slowly, inch by inch, into you. As he enters, he spreads your walls. It’s a little tight and slightly uncomfortable, but you spread your legs more to allow him to keep going. 

The second he’s completely within you, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has been put down. This feels right, it feels good. It’s like this was all meant to be. His hands grab your hips and then he begins bucking, softly at first. 

You groan under him. God, his movement is exactly what you need. The way he pulses in and out of you, nothing could be better. His thrusts force you to pant. 

“Arthur… Arthur…” you mutter over and over. 

“You sound so pretty,” he purrs. 

With the encouragement of your moans, he begins going faster and harder. As he does, you feel the last few walls begin to tumble. You’re one with him. It feels odd, silly even, that you’ve spent your entire adult life being so blocked off from your own emotions. What you feel now is something you didn’t even know you were capable of. 

Arthur continues to pound himself into you, in and out. 

“Arthur,” you say, but he doesn’t respond. Probably thinks you’re just saying his name out of please. “Arthur, I… I feel so good. I… I think I…. I love you.” 

Arthur suddenly stops and your heart plummetts. Do you really love him or are you just saying that out of the ecstasy of sex? You look at him, your eyes searching his. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed like you were worried he would be. Instead, he looks amazed.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“I… I think I love you. You’ve made me realize I can be open with myself, and with you. I’ve been doing a lot of searching within myself when it comes to you, Arthur, and I… I love you.” 

His face slips into a grin and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. “Oh Y/N. I been hopin’ I could hear you say that for some time. I’ve loved you since that first time you and I touched.” 

You smile and can’t help but let a tear fall down the side of your face. He rubs it away and then he bends down to kiss you. As he does, you push your hips up to remind him of what you’re doing. He responds by thrusting again. His lips glide down and take hold of your neck where he kisses as he builds back to his rhythm. You clutch onto his back to anchor yourself. He seems more fervent this time around. Perhaps with your feelings for him no longer being a question, he can truly make love to you. 

After a minute of pounding and kissing, he speaks up. “You close?” 

“I’m… I’m getting there,” you say. Arthur’s cock twitches as he thrusts, brushing your spot. You groan in response to this. 

“I want ya to come for me, darlin’.” 

“Oh Arthur. Keep…. Keep going. Oh God.” 

As if he knows exactly the kind of stimulation you need, his hand goes between your bodies and slips into your fold once again. He begins rubbing your clit in time with his bucking. 

“Oh God. Arthur!” you hiss as the pleasure of his touch threatens to overwhelm you. It feels as though there’s one last wall preventing from doing so, but it’s being chiseled away. You want it to fall, you need it to. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just let it go.” 

Arthur rubs you hard, his cock brushing your spot again and again. As his fingers trail over your nub yet again, you suddenly feel the wall come crashing down. As it does, your back arches, your toes curl and your head pushes into the bed. Arthur rubs you again and again, forcing the wall to continue falling. 

The moment it collapses, you feel yourself completely give in to the raw passion that’s been trying to claw its way out. You let out a low howl as Arthur continues to pound into you, his fingers still trailing over your clit. 

“Arthur!” you practically shout, no longer caring for who might hear you. Your walls clench around him and suddenly you feel him pulse and then something hot seeps out, filling you. You and Arthur have come at the same time it seems. 

Finally, you start to come down from your high, allowing you to breath again. You settle into the bed, panting. Arthur’s breathing hard too, his skin has taken on a slight sheen. 

“Good girl,” he growls into your ear and then he pulls his softening cock out, leaving you feeling slightly empty. 

“Oh Arthur,” is all you can manage. He smiles and falls onto his back. After a few seconds, you turn over and curl up against his side, wanting to stay close to him. Your hand wanders over his chest, trailing through the hair, and then you reach up and kiss him. As you do, you feel there’s so much more being said through the kiss than any that have come before.

[ecoamerica]

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The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

[moral-turpitudes]

Could you write a story with 8 and 16 from angst Peaky prompts list? With Thomas Shelby x reader That would be great, thanks a lot! 😀

Here u go love!

Bets & Beatings:

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Violence/Fighting, Blood, Knives.

Characters: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1,608

Summary: Y/n gets a first-hand look into some Peaky business while at a horse race with Tommy. She had been warned about them while out with friends, but sometimes people ignore what they know, for what they want instead.

Requested by: anon

You sat with your hand resting in his, not knowing exactly what you were getting yourself into. About 10 months ago you had met Tommy at the Garrison while out with your friends. You two hit it off instantly, not knowing at the time that the men jokingly cheering him on in the distance were his brothers. You distinctly remembered your friend tensing up when he came over, a cold yet unguarded look in his eyes. He was drunk, but still handled himself better than over half of the pubs occupancy. 

“What do you drink miss?” He asked, licking his lips before rubbing a cigarette along his bottom lip and lighting it.

“Oh...um whiskeys fine...” You said, watching his ocean eyes pierce through yours.

Your friend quickly leaned over to you as he struck up a conversation with the bartender, whispering in your ear.

“My god look at his hat Y/n...he has a blade in it. He’s one of those Peaky Blinder men...be careful, they’re no good.” She said.

You quickly glanced at the small razor glinting from the peak of his cap, your eyes widening a bit at the realization. They were some of the most respected - yet feared people in Small Heath. They were also very wealthy and you knew from town gossip that they would pay cops hush-money regarding some of their “actions.” 

As you turned back to your nervous friend, you put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. You weren’t scared or really on edge about him, which was odd, but all it did was make you curious.

As you turned back to him, you watched as he nodded at the bartender as he poured two shots of the brown liquid. You lifted an eyebrow at him as he didn’t put any money down for them.

“I’m Tommy Shelby, and a Shelby’s drinks are on the house.” He said before clinking his glass with yours. You smiled and knocked back your shot, the cool burn from it flowing down your throat.

“and I’m Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n...” You said winking and extending a hand to him. Instead of shaking it, he took it and gently kissed the top of it. 

As the night went on, your friends grew tired so they went home, but not before checking to make sure you were okay. With a wink, you sent them on their way and continued talking with Tommy, and eventually meeting his brothers.

You smiled at the memory as your hand still rested in his, the smoke from his cigarette filling your lungs as you waited for the boys, aunt Polly, and her son Michael to come in for the latest family meeting. About a month into your relationship you got to meet everyone and they fell in love with you, which was a huge weight lifted off your shoulders at the time.

Soon enough everyone came in, except for John who strolled in a tad later looking disheveled. You and Tommy smirked at each other as you both knew he was with Esme not long ago. 

“Hey John, nice of you to join us.” You said, next to Tommy who smirked.

“Oh fuck off.” He said jokingly.

“Alright, enough with the pleasantries, we have business to discuss.” Tommy said shortly after your remarks.

Everyone looked at him as did you, awaiting whatever crazy plan was going to come out of his mouth this time.

“We’re going to the races, but keep an eye out for a certain group of people. They’ll be wearing white suits. They fucked with some of the Lee’s things and we’re going to help them out a little bit since we’re on better terms now.” He said.

Y/n smirked slightly. “Is Peaky business funny to you love?” Tommy asked, lightening his stern tone slightly.

The smirk you had only grew. “No of course not, but I find white suits to be a hilarious looking dirt trap.” You said, cringing at the thought of a dirt and horse-shit covered suit. Tommy smirked and nodded in agreement.

“These men never had a good fashion sense dear. Luckily, you’re with the people who do.” Polly said walking by you and placing a hand in your shoulder. You clasped your hand over hers and smiled as Tommy continued. 

“We’re going to take over their books because we know horses, we know the odds, and we know what we’re doing.” He said. 

“Alright, well I’ll go get the car.” Michael said and left. Polly pulled you along to get ready in some race attire. You wore a nice hat with bright flowers adorning the top in extravagant fashion, and a black lace dress with black heels to match. Tommy and you rode separately so he could scope out the scene and get a feel for the place. He looked around slyly and you sipped your drink and made pleasant conversation with some nearby women. Lost in the chit-chat, you briefly lost sight of Tommy, panicking a bit until one of the women pointed past you in the distance. He was talking to one of the men in a white suit. Your eyes grazed down the man, his hair barely visible from his matching white top-hat. You smirked as you saw the hems of his pants slowly browning from the dirt covered tracks and stables. You walked near them and before you get to Tommy you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Not so fast Y/n. He’s working the bastards, don’t interrupt.” Arthur said.

“Oh. okay, I’ll just sit with Pol, watch the races I guess.” You said, seeing Polly taking a seat in the distance. 

“If you hear a bell toll three times, that’s our signal that something’s happened. You’ll meet us round back in that case.” He said motioning towards the dimly lit area behind the racetrack, near the stables. 

“Alright, thanks for the heads up.” You said patting his shoulder as you took another sip of your drink and taking a seat with Polly. 

You watched as Tommy came back to the boys and discussed something and then went over to you both. He sat by you, kissing your forehead as he often would.

You heard the trumpet signaling the start of the races, the jockeys mounted and the horses ready to go. Then a shrill bell rang once as they sprinted out, passing each other as dirt flung from their hooves. The horses had different names, each with a number on the silks of the jockeys and draping under their saddles. You looked at the program in your hand at the varying numbers by each horse. You were handed it when you had walked in. 

“That horse there went up 5 to 1, instead of 15 to 1. We got them to change it. More people will bet on the 5 to 1 because it’s considered a favorite.” He explained, motioning to a black horse. But you had your eye on a leaner one. It was a beautiful gray color, and you read its name was “Up in Smoke.” You watched as it raced around the track, speeding past the others while still at 23 to 1 odds. “Oi. Now this gray one might do it though, it’s more of an underdog. Now that one will bring in some money.” He said and you smiled.

You saw them go neck and neck and you cheered as your favorite horse won.

“You liked that one aye?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” You said. You glanced at him as he looked at it’s trainers in the distance. You tensed as you saw a couple of the men in white suits near the black horse that came in second, their faces full of anger as they realized Tommy and the boys fucked with their earnings. 

Tommy noticed too and quickly left to head towards the back near the stables with the rest of the boys following in shifts to not cause suspicion. You nervously sat with Polly as the second race was about to start. Then your stomach dropped as you heard three bells in the distance. “Let’s go.” Polly said, guiding you to the back where Tommy and the boys went. You entered the dimly lit room warily, scared of what you’d see. 

You held back a scream as you saw Arthur, Tommy and two of the men in white suits fighting, each of them covered in blood. Polly took your hand and tugged you towards the exit but you stood there silently, watching to make sure Tommy and Arthur were okay. You shuddered as you caught Tommy pulling out a blade and slitting the mans throat, covering him in blood as Arthur beat the other man to a pulp. Tommy turned around panting a bit and saw you standing there, Polly looking down with her hands folded, waiting for them to be done, but you just stood there staring at him. He walked towards you as his brothers came through, Arthur going to the car after being dragged off the guy by John. 

“Y/n...” Tommy said, walking towards you carefully. 

“Don’t-don’t touch me.” You said, avoiding his hand moving to touch your shoulder, the blood dripping off it. “...not until you wash that shit off.” You said, gulping and looking away. 

“They warned me about you...they really did.” You said, thinking back to that night in the bar with your friends. 

He looked at your bewildered expression, and then glanced at the blood-stained white suits of the men he killed for the bets and for the Lee’s. 

Smirking at his handy work, he turned back to you. 

“That’s just business, sweetheart.”

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 9 (1/3)

I’m back with my sh*t!! I should definitely keep writing, but I’m so full of things to do... 

Chapter 9 (1/3) - Good morning, bad news

Words 3,3k

It took a little before he opened his eyes. First he regained consciousness, stretched his back on the hard ground covered by the old worn blanket, and then he tried to yawn. I say he tried because when he opened his mouth immediately a pain on his lower jaw forced him to close his mouth again and squeeze his eyes in a suffering expression. 

“Ahi, coño” he swore and brought a hand to cover the right cheek.

That beast, the day before, had almost broke his face with that huge punch he had given him, and if it wasn’t for Arthur, who had distracted him, he would have been a headless Mexican by now. He wondered how Arthur was doing after that fight. He was the one who had got worse, being beaten by that big man in the middle of the road. 

He finally decided to open his eyes and check if Charles was still asleep next to him or he had already woken up. He was already up of course, he didn’t expect otherwise. Sitting up, Javier also realized he had a terrible pain on his left ribs, but this time he had no idea of who among all those men inside the saloon had been the one to hurt him there. 

“Hey, you getting ready?” he asked to Charles when he reached him near the horses.

“Ah-ah. We must meet with Trelawny in one hour.”

“I know, I know. Give me a minute” he said turning around and slowly heading to the kitchen.

He needed coffee, and something to eat for the journey. He greeted Pearson, Miss Grimshaw, Abigail and the Adler widow on his way to the coffee pot and as soon as he kneeled down and put his hands on it, Emily showed up.

“Arthur told me about the bar fight. How are you?”

“Fine enough.”

“You have a bad bruise on your face. You should put something on it, like some ice.”

“Where do you think I can take ice?” he snorted pouring himself some coffee.

“Right. I better reach Charles. I want to check how is he and then we should go out for the lesson.”

“We’re leaving” he informed her standing up with a grimace of pain.

“Leaving? Why?”

“We found Sean. We’re going to rescue him.”

“Sean, really? Have you told Karen?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I’m going to tell her now! Good luck Javier!”

As she said that, she run away with her skirt fluttering in all directions. Javier shook his head, finished his coffee in a few gulps, took a couple of bean cans from the supplies and went back to Charles. In fifteen minutes, they were already leaving. 

Karen had just woken up and she sat upright to stretch her back and rub her eyes. Abigail, who was already up, walked right in front of her, but she didn’t say anything, not even a ‘good morning’. Everybody in camp knew that they didn’t have to say a word to Karen in the morning, at least not until she had drunk her coffee and smoked her cigarette, especially her cigarette, or she would have summoned all the powers on earth and sky to make a lighting strike you exactly where you were, leaving only a pile of ashes on the ground. 

Everybody knew that, except Emily who came running with a big smile on her face, or as Karen described her in her mind, the most idiotic expression she had ever seen. The hell was she smiling for so early in the morning?

“I have to tell you something that will make you…”

“Fuck off.”

“But…”

“Fuck off!”

“It’s about Sean.”

Despite the fact that she wanted to kill her at that moment, Karen looked up at her and that was all Emily needed to start talking.

“Javier told me they found him. Charles told me the law took him captive, but they’re going to rescue him. Aren’t you happy?” she said clapping her hands and making some little jumps that made her look more stupid than usual.

“Delighted. Now, please, will you FUCK OFF!”

Emily jumped at those loud and rude words, and turned around with a scoff.

“Screw you, Karen” she replied running away.

Karen stood up and slowly headed to the kitchen and only when she took the first sip of coffee she actually thought about what Emily had told her. 

So, Sean was alive. Good. No, not just good, GREAT. She missed him, she was hoping so hard that he wasn’t dead, and she couldn’t wait for him to come back. 

Karen shook her head. The hell no. He was a pain in the ass. He was a little piece of shit with the biggest ego she had ever seen in a person. As soon as they had seen each other, he would have surely started with all that fantasy about her being in love with him.

But of course she loved him. He was an idiot sometimes, but she did love him, she just couldn’t tell him. And yes, she couldn’t wait to see him again, and sit with him by the fire and sing one of those beautiful songs he knew, with that terrible voice he had that made him sound like a dead cat.

Karen smiled to herself and then pushed away the feelings and the thoughts, taking another sip and preparing for a day of work with Miss Grimshaw.

...

Javier and Charles weren’t the only couple that was leaving that morning. Walking again next to the horses, Emily spotted Lenny and Micah loading the last things on their saddles and she walked closer both pushed by the curiosity to know where they were heading and to tell them Sean would soon be with them again. 

“Dutch told us to go to Strawberry. See how things are lying in West Elisabeth, find some opportunity. I guess Sean will be here by the time we come back, so we can have a party” said Lenny.

With most of the men gone, the camp soon became silent and at Emily’s eyes it appeared also extremely sad.  The empty tents and campfires made it look like an abandoned place and she hoped that moment wouldn’t last much and that soon everybody would have come back.  

Her mind went to Arthur and about how he was doing with the reverend. She had thought that rescuing him wouldn’t take much time, but she was wrong because she didn’t know Arthur was having a hard time at the Flatneck Station.

She decided to spend that time finishing the oil for John’s scars and when she was done, she went looking for him. 

He was seated at one of the tables and he was studying a piece of paper with a lot of lines and names on it.

“You people seem to have a thing for maps” she laughed sitting next to him.

“Excuse me?” he asked frowning.

“Never mind. I’m done. Here’s the oil” she said leaving the jar on the table, which John took to study.

“It’s still too soon. You have to wait for those cuts to heal completely, which will take a week more, I think, and then you can start using it” she added.

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

“What are you doing with that?” she asked pointing at the map.

“Looking for a place to rob. A town, a ranch, something in the surroundings that could make us gain some money.”

Emily didn’t like the fact that he wanted to rob some people in a town or in a ranch, but she asked anyway: “and, have you found something?”

“Hosea said Valentine is a live stock town, so they should sell, what? Cows and sheep in there?”

“I’ve seen sheep when I’ve been there” Emily informed him.

“And the nearest place to have sheep may be this “Emerald Ranch”. We could go and find out if they are preparing some for being sold.”

“We?”

“Well, yeah I guess…”

John turned his head from left to right and checked the place like he was looking for something.

“There’s no many folks left, so I guess… I can’t bring Bill, he’d ruin everything so… maybe I’ll go alone” he ended looking again at the map and shaking his head.

“If you need a hand, and you just have to check something, I can come with you” proposed Emily. 

“You?” asked John looking at her.

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“N-no…”

He wanted to say “because from what I heard you are as dumb as Bill” but her face made him understand that it was better if he didn’t utter that sentence.

“Yes, yes I think I can bring you with me” he said in the end. 

“Good. When?” she asked.

“Well, I still don’t know. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Remember: everyday, twice a day, and your face will look much better in a month” she added tapping on the jar before standing up to go away.

...

Arthur left the reverend under his tent just when Miss Grimshaw came closer to ask what had happened.

“Just… the usual” he replied with a shrug.

“Poor bastard.”

“He was lucky, this time. Real lucky” he said going away. 

He couldn’t believe the crazy chase that man had forced him to do that morning, and he was feeling already tired, but there was no time to rest.

He went looking for her. He wanted to tell her about his discovery, even if he already knew she would freak out at the news.

She was speaking with John. He waited until she stood up to go away and in the meantime he observed how the two of them looked so distinct from the distance: John so ugly, scarred and mean, Emily so pretty and neat. It must have been the same impression Arthur gave to the deputy when he walked inside the sheriff’s with her.

And how? How could Arthur walk beside her in the street and not feel diminished by her presence? And how couldn’t she notice that?

He took a deep breath and reached her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you’re back. How’s the reverend?”

“Alive, for now. I found him. I found one of the men in the photographs. The pig farmer.”

“Emmet Granger?”

Emily already knew the people in those photos by heart. 

“Yeah, and… well, I asked him about Calloway, but uhm… he wasn’t very pleased and… well I had to shoot him.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” she exclaimed bringing her hands to her face and covering her mouth in shock.

“Hey, he kept threatening me, and humiliating me, so first I returned the favor. Then, I was going away but he engaged me in a duel. I couldn’t…”

“You returned the favor?” 

“I made pig shit rain on him.”

Her face changed immediately from shocked and disappointed to funny and goofy: she was trying to restrain the laughter. 

“You did what?”

“I-I put dynamite in a pile of pig shit and made it rain on him.”

She busted out laughing and Arthur smiled at her amusement. He expected another reproach for his behavior, not a laugh. 

“Anyway, I couldn’t leave without taking care of him” he said in the end.

“Jesus, Arthur” she whispered and brought a hand to hide her eyes, still smiling, but forcefully returning to a serious demeanor. 

“You didn’t have to kill him.”

“Yeah, well next time why don’t you try to convince a crazy old man to talk about his past as famous gunslinger.”

“I would have if you had brought me with you! You promised I could come.”

“Believe me, you haven’t missed much.”

“But next time I’ll come with you. Say it!”

“Okay, okay. Next time we’ll try to convince the asshole together.”

...

Emily sighed and looked at his face. She wanted to ask more details about how Granger had died, understand if Arthur was just defending himself or if he had started the thing, but at the same time she was afraid to know he had been the one who started it. She didn’t want to think about him as a murderer.

“At least you found something about Calloway?” she asked in the end.

“Nothing.”

Silence fell between them, an embarrassing silence. Emily couldn’t remove from her head the image of Arthur shooting someone in cold blood, and at the same time, that image reminded her of something similar she had done recently, and the weight of her actions was starting to be felt again on her shoulders. Arthur cleared his throat before finding an excuse to leave, breaking the silence and the tension. 

She couldn’t believe those people knew nothing but violence. It seemed they didn’t even try to find an alternative to killing, some way to convince people that wasn’t pointing a gun to their heads. She had created an idolized idea of them at the beginning, but that idea was starting to fade away. 

But she had to admit the shower of shit was funny. She smiled again thinking about it. It must have been like one of those scenes in kids cartoons, like Mickey Mouse or Duffy Duck, just more… dirty.

In a couple of hours, in addition to everybody leaving camp, Arthur and Hosea decided to leave too. They wanted to go looking for one of the legendary animals in Hosea’s map. They called her intentionally to tell her about it, and not only that. 

Arthur had already removed the saddle from his horse and he was tapping his hand on its back.

“I’ll leave Drover to you. Take good care of him, he’s a good horse” he said.

“You’re leaving it to me? And how… how will you travel?” she asked.

“I’m going to sell this one” he replied pointing at the big black horse next to him.

“And in the meantime, I’ll buy a new horse. Drover is good, but sometimes he gets scared easily, so be careful when you ride him.”

“I will” she said, but in her mind she was thinking she would have never tried to ride him on her own.

She looked at them mounting on the horses and disappear into the woods. And now, the camp really felt empty. However, Miss Grimshaw gave Emily no time to think about it, putting her to work after the days of laziness and boredom. 

She was assigned to the clothes washing and she took the chance to wear her “normal” clothes and wash the shirt and the skirt. 

“In the future is so much simple” she said to Abigail as they hanged the clean laundry.

“We have a thing called washing machine. You put the clothes inside and it washes them, so you don’t have to rub and ruin your hands with water and detergents.”

“Why don’t you build it, this way Miss Grimshaw will stop torturing us” she replied, but her tone was heavily sarcastic. Abigail was one of those who still didn’t believe in Emily’s story. 

Talking seriously, no-one believed in the possibility that Emily truly came from the future, but some of them, like Mary-Beth, Tilly, Hosea and Charles, believed in her conviction that she came from the future, so if it was real for her, it was real for them too, but they didn’t actually believe in a fact, they believed in a belief. 

“You all are too hard with her. She’s just doing what she thinks it’s better to make this camp work. Your hygienic situation it’s already unstable. Without her it would be disastrous” said Emily.

In those days she had thought a lot about the harsh reaction Miss Grimshaw had had with her, but also about how worried everybody said she was because of her disappearance, and so, Emily decided to forgive her and forget the fact that she had been slapped, and, on the contrary, she started to take her defense every time somebody silently attacked her for something she said or did in camp. 

Since the place was much more boring with most of its people gone, Emily also started to visit Kieran constantly, alway being careful not to touch him with a single finger, but she had also noticed that since she had loosened his ropes and made him sit on the ground, no-one had tightened them again, so that now he could stay seated and sleep correctly. 

Emily wondered if that had happened because she had somehow put some humanity in those people’s heart or just because no-one bothered to put him in the right place again. 

With Kieran, Emily talked mainly about horses. When the man found out she knew nothing about those animals he loved so much, he decided to make her some real lessons about them.

“What about that one? What breed is it?” she asked pointing at Dutch’s horse.

“That one is an albino Arab, which is different from a white Arab because of his eyes, you see them? They are clear.”

“What about Charles’s horse? Taima. She is so strange, with all those colors.”

“He has an Appaloosa. Quite common horse, sweet and calm, good for training.”

It also happened that she brought Drover near the spot Kieran was tied to, so that he could give her indications about how to groom him. How to use the brush correctly, how to touch him, all the things she used to do with Charles.

“You know so much. If you weren’t tied here I’d ask you to teach me something more about riding, now that everybody who could teach me is gone” she murmured with a long face.

“I wish I were free too.”

“You know what you should do? Prove yourself to them. Give them something that can make them understand you are not a bad guy.”

But that was a real issue for Kieran, because he was terrified that, if he spoke, Dutch would kill him after he had what he wanted. 

Emily didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t want to think Dutch or Hosea or somebody else could be so ruthless to kill poor Kieran as soon as they had what they wanted. She was aware that after what had happened she better didn’t stick her nose in that question, but she was taking it as something personal and wanted to do something: to prove to herself that those people weren’t as terrible as sometimes they seemed, to prove that Kieran wasn’t dangerous, to prove to everybody that kindness was the right way. 

“Emily!”

The kid’s voice distracted her from her thoughts.

“Hey, Jack!”

“Can we play?”

...

Emily didn’t stop making up new games. Every time Jack asked her she always came up with something new. Duck, Duck, Goose was one of his favorites because they played with his mom, Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen, even if the latter wasn’t very pleased to play and they had to force her. Then, there was hide and seek, Simon Says, which was super fun because they played with Mr. Pearson - whose name was Simon - and he always found something hilarious to make, and then Hopscotch and the Explorers. If Jack was having a bad day or he was bored he knew he could always go to Emily and she would have found a way to cheer him up.

That day they played hide and seek and when they were tired enough, to rest, Emily chose a particular spot in camp and told him to lay on the ground and look at the sky.

“Why?” he asked.

“You’ll see” she replied.

It was the perfect day: there were enough clouds and not much wind so that the movements they made created many shapes and figures. Emily explained him how it worked and soon they started to see every kind on thing in the clouds.

“Look! That looks like a dog! I like dogs!” exclaimed Jack.

“And that looks like roasted chicken! God, I miss chicken” Emily said bringing a hand on her half empty stomach.

“How does it taste like?”

“It tastes like chicken.”

“I’ve never eaten chicken.”

“What does it mean, you never tried chicken?” she asked looking at him in shock.

“Mr. Pearson only makes his stew. I eat that.”

Their argument went on for a while, until Emily sweared she would have found a way to make Jack eat chicken.

[verai-marcel]

Life Level Up (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x F!Reader, Neighbor AU, Part 1 of 3, 18+)

Part 9 of Neighborly Affection. Read the other parts in the #neighbor au tag.

Summary: Your birthday is coming up, but with you and Arthur getting accustomed to living with each other and working out all your quirks and differences, you hadn’t really thought about it. But Arthur has given it a lot of thought.

Author’s Notes: This is it folks, this is the last part of Neighbor AU. I’ll be writing this in three parts, as a mirror of the first part: High Honor, Low Honor, and an epilogue that works for both.

Tags: finale, realistic relationship things, smut, slight breeding kink, rough sex, speedbumping, dirty talk, feels, HEA

AO3 Link is here, angel.

Word Count: 3201

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

Chapter 1: High Honor

The past three months went by like a blur since you moved in with him, and at this point, you feel like you’ve been with him forever. The ease of switching from living alone to living with Arthur (and sometimes Isaac) had been smooth because the two of you had your big financial talk before you had agreed to move in with him. With both of you depositing an equal amount into a shared account from which you paid all your bills, food, rent, and an emergency fund, the rest of your money was yours to do with as you pleased. Things were going well. 

It helped that although the fire between you two still was burning, it had calmed into a cozy heat. The first week the two of you had the place to yourselves, you were sore as hell and tired everyday. 

But afterwards, the two of you would share more cuddles, more time just being with each other as opposed to fucking like rabbits. After a long day, Arthur loved to welcome you home with a nice meal and a hug. At night, he'd hold you in his arms and massage your scalp, or he would rub your back. You would do the same for him, of course, loving the feel of his muscles under your hands, his soft moans as you worked a knot in his shoulder blades. 

And so time passed. Without realizing it, your birthday was a week away. 

It had been a crazy year. A year of being with Arthur. Two years since you had met him. What would your life have been like if you hadn't said yes to him? What if you hadn't taken that chance? 

Still yearning, alone in your small studio apartment, that's for sure. 

Feeling grateful for this turn of events, you finished your last IT ticket and shut down your laptop. Leaving the bedroom, you blinked to see Arthur on his phone, intently reading something. He had I even looked up when you opened the door. 

"Arthur?" 

He suddenly looked up and saw you. "Oh, uh, you done fer the day, angel?" 

"Yeah. You alright?" 

Arthur's eyes flicked away for a moment before looking back at you. "Yep, just fine." He got up and walked towards you, slipping his phone into his pocket before pulling you into a big hug. "What do you want for dinner?" 

You eyed him suspiciously. "You sure you're alright?" 

He smiled, his eyes clear as a cloudless summer sky. “Yup, never better.”

***

You would eventually look back on that moment and realize that was when the gears started turning in Arthur’s head. But at the time, you just brushed it off as him having a moment of reflection and just carried on.

It was Friday and you were wrapping up your work for the day. Your birthday was tomorrow and Arthur hadn’t said anything other than asking you to keep your day open, which immediately clued you in on some kind of secret plan. You were going to groom yourself tonight so you could be ready for tomorrow, whatever his plan might be.

As you exited the bedroom, you smelled delicious food and walked over to the kitchen. You saw Arthur putting the last touches on two plates of grilled chicken and roasted root veggies, the scent of rosemary and thyme making your mouth water.

“Perfect timin’, angel,” he said as he turned around and saw you. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

You happily sat down and let him serve you, chowing down with abandon as the two of you shared your days with each other. He had a busy day at the mechanic shop as three people had rolled up right at the end of the day, leaving their cars overnight for the other team to work on tomorrow. But he stayed over an extra hour to take notes and write all the reports to make sure they knew what to look for.

“You work so hard, Arthur,” you said between bites of delicious chicken. “I really admire that about you.”

He bashfully looked down at his plate and pushed his potatoes around with his fork. “Ain’t nothin’, just tryin’ to do my best.”

You reached out and touched his arm, squeezing it gently. “Seriously, that’s one of the things that really drew me to you. Give yourself some more credit.”

Finally looking up at you, he gave you a wry grin before he continued to eat, asking you about your day. By the time you finished regaling him with a tale of a user who wrote every password down on a piece of paper and had lost said paper, expecting you to know all the passwords because you were ‘the computer person’, you both had finished your food and were washing plates.

“So… what are we doing tomorrow?”

Arthur turned to you and smiled. “Oh, just thought I’d take you out to dinner tomorrow night. For your big day.”

You grinned. You knew he had something planned. “Where are we going?”

“That, my darlin’, is a secret.”

“Aww, come on Arthur!”

“Nope, you hafta wait until tomorrow night.”

You glared at him, but his mysterious smile stayed on his face, undeterred by your stare.

***

The next day couldn’t go by fast enough. Arthur had to work an extra morning shift at the mechanic’s, so you cleaned the apartment, and you may have surreptitiously looked around his desk for any clue of where the two of you were going. You didn’t dig in too deep; after all, you respected his privacy. Besides, you knew hacking into his computer would be pointless, since he barely used the thing. His plans were probably handwritten somewhere, or all up in his head.

You didn’t find anything, no receipts, no print outs, nothing. You sighed after you finished cleaning and plopped down on the sofa in the living room to play video games until Arthur came back from work.

***

When he called saying to eat without him, but eat light, you were a little annoyed. He said he’d come back and hang out with you, that he would try to not let work talk him into staying longer.

Of course he’d stay longer. You knew this going into the relationship. But on your birthday, the fact that he couldn’t come back on time hurt just a little bit. You fixed yourself a salad and continued gaming until about 3PM, when you heard the door open and close. You kept your attention on the game, trying to not let yourself get more annoyed; you logically knew it wasn’t his fault. Emotionally though, you felt a little bit abandoned.

“Sorry I’m late, darlin’.”

You huffed. “It’s fine.”

Arthur toed his boots off and looked at you. “You mad?”

You sighed. “No, I’m not mad. Just… a little disappointed, I guess.”

He came over and sat next to you. You still hadn’t looked at him.

Arthur reached out and gently began to rub your shoulders. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” you replied immediately. “I’m just being selfish. It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

You heard him sigh. Hitting pause on your game, you finally turned to him. Seeing him look at you with such remorse made you feel worse.

“Arthur. It’s fine.”

“You keep sayin’ that…”

“Because it is!” you snapped.

Arthur blinked at your outburst, then he held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just… let me know if anything changes.”

You sighed, upset with yourself. “I will.” You turned back to your game. “So where are we going tonight?”

“You still want to go?”

You thought about it for a few moments. “Yeah, I do. I’m just feeling immature. Like I know you have work and stuff. I just wanted you back home sooner.”

Arthur suddenly wrapped his arms around you in a big hug. “Oh, angel,” he murmured into your ear as he held you. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

You melted into his arms. Such an earnest man. Turning your head, you kissed him. “I love you.”

“Love you too, darlin’.”

***

Arthur drove you out towards the beach, and when you saw the restaurant you were heading towards, you gawked at him.

“You… you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You got a reservation?”

“Ayup.”

You said nothing more as Arthur parked his truck, got out, and came around to the other side to help you out like a gentleman. You would normally scoff at such treatment, but he had asked you to wear something a little fancy, so you had on heels and a cocktail dress, which weren’t the easiest things to move around in.

Arthur looked delicious in his navy blue blazer, black polo, blue jeans, and boots. It was hard not to drag him back into the bedroom after seeing him in that outfit, but you knew you had to be patient; after all, there was always tonight.

Holding onto his arm, you let him escort you into the fancy Lakehouse Restaurant.

***

Dinner was wonderful; the foodie in you would always remember how scrumptious everything was, how beautiful all the dishes were, and you lamented how you would probably not go there again for a very long time. Arthur wouldn’t let you see the bill, which was probably for the best, since you would probably have a heart attack.

The drive home was relaxed, the negativity of earlier in the afternoon having faded away now that you had some distance from it all. Arthur was always good about letting you process your emotions, giving you time to recover. You would always be grateful for Arthur being patient with you.

His hand was on your knee, his thumb drawing circles on your skin the entire drive home. By the time you got back, you were craving his touch on all of you.

As the two of you entered your apartment, you kicked off your heels and turned to kiss him. He was surprised at first, given that he had barely gotten his boots off, but soon his hands were on your ass, lifting you up. Immediately you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. Setting you down on the edge of the bed, Arthur suddenly let go of you and stepped back.

Looking up at him, seeing his eyes turn very serious, your heart stuttered. “Arthur?”

He got down on one knee.

“Ar-Arthur?” you said again, your voice high pitched and breathy.

He said your name, your full name, and you knew what was happening. Your eyes began to water and he looked blurry, so you blinked quickly. You wanted to see this moment clearly, burn this into your memory.

“I’ve messed up a lot in the past. I’ll probably mess up even more in the future. But even so, I would be honored if you’d be by my side through it all, just as I’ll be by yours.”

Arthur reached into a pocket inside his blazer and pulled out a small, black velvet box, and opened it, presenting you with a beautiful silver ring with a dark blue gemstone.

Your vision blurred again.

“You don’t have to answer me now. This ring is my gift to you, whether or not you’ll have me.”

You tried to speak, and choked on your words. He knew you always wanted time to think. He had waited to propose until you were safely at home, away from public eyes, because he didn’t want the pressure to force an answer out of you. He understood you more than anyone ever had before.

“Yes,” you finally said. “I never want to be with anyone else.”

You felt Arthur take your hand and slip the ring onto your finger, felt his stubble cheek brush against yours as he kissed away your tears. “My sweet angel,” he murmured. “What did I do to deserve you.”

You giggled as you reached down and brushed his inner thigh. “You make me feel good.”

He grinned. “That I can do, birthday girl.” Reaching around you, he slowly pulled down the zipper of your dress, unwrapping you like a present as he kissed your exposed skin. Each kiss lingered as if he was savoring each moment of contact, his warm breath making you shiver with desire. Sliding your bra off, he stared at your bare chest with a lustful look, taking your breasts in both his hands and squeezing, teasing your nipples with his fingers and thumbs, drawing out your soft moans.

“Lay back, angel,” he directed quietly. You did as he said, laying back and lifting your hips so he could slide off your dress. With just your sky blue colored panties and bra, you looked at him with a smile. He smiled back, bent down to kiss your inner thighs as he worked his way towards your center before moving the fabric aside, dipping his tongue inside of you.

“Ahhh!” you gasped when his lips made contact with your sensitive bud, your heart rate rocketing when he sucked on it. It was too much and you nearly kicked him, your body writhing madly under his touch. A strong hand gripped your ankle before you could move any further, and he trapped your other leg under his arm as he continued to pleasure you with his talented mouth.

“Keep moanin’ darlin’,” he said before he delved back between your legs. He drove you to the brink, over and over again, before easing off, kissing you everywhere else for a little bit as you caught your breath, pushing your hips towards him, begging with every fiber of your being for completion.

“Please baby,” you begged, “please make me come.”

“So sweet of you to ask,” he said teasingly before letting go of your ankle to slip his finger inside of you. He stood up and bent over you, his eyes capturing yours with his intent stare as he pushed a second, then a third finger inside of you, all the while thumbing your core until your fingers dug into his shoulders and your hips jolted upwards.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried out, your body not ready for the intense climax rushing through you, as if it was coming from both Arthur’s fingers and his gaze. You were trapped by his beautiful eyes, his lips curved in the sexiest, most confident grin you’d ever seen on him as he watched you fall apart from his touch.

“That’s it darlin’, you look so beautiful when you come,” he said in a low voice, filled with love.

When his fingers finally left your body, you felt like you were floating on a cloud, pleasantly buzzed, your muscles relaxed.

Then he took off his jacket.

Your eyes zeroed in on him as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, taking off his clothes, knowing how hungrily you watched him. His hands purposely slowed as he undid his fly, dropping his pants and his boxers, letting you see all of him. Your mouth watered at his hard, thick cock as he took it in his hand and stroked himself lightly.

“Hungry, sweetheart?”

You nodded as you got onto your hands and knees and took him into your mouth. The salty taste of him hit your tongue, eliciting a soft moan of enjoyment from you. Licking him like a popsicle, you reached around him with one arm, grabbing his ass and pushing him towards you.

“Whoa there, darlin’. Careful,” he chuckled as he dug his hands into your hair. He let you dictate the pace, letting his head fall back as he made wordless sounds of satisfaction.

“Gettin’ close,” he said as he stepped away from you, slapping your ass playfully. “Git on the bed, lemme make love to ya.” 

Rolling onto your back, you spread your legs for him, crooking your finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. He smiled and grabbed your legs, settling your ankles on his shoulders before he pressed his cock against your slit.

“Love you,” he said before suddenly thrusting into you, filling you so full that you cried out.��

“Yes, yes!”

Towering above you as he rocked his hips, he looked at you like you were his whole world. "Darlin', you feel so good," he said, his voice low and raspy as he thrust his cock in and out of you, faster and faster. 

Then he suddenly leaned down and pulled you into his arms, folding you in half, and stood back up, still inside of you. With his hands gripping your ass solidly, he pumped you up and down, using you like his fuck toy. 

Your head rolled back and your heart raced at the show of his immense strength. There was no way he would drop you; he held you as if you weighed as little as a feather. 

As your eyes met, he grinned. "I think you should get to ride for a bit," he joked as he sat down. Laying onto his back, he let you maneuver yourself more comfortably. Once you were in position, he gripped your hips. "C'mon cowgirl," he murmured. 

You lifted up, smirked, then slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, teasing him by circling your hips, earning you a snarl. 

"You goin' to tease me like that? After all I done fer ya?" 

You laughed and let yourself drop onto him. Placing your hands onto his strong chest, you started to ride him hard, rubbing yourself frantically, chasing that sweet high. Watching Arthur's eyes flutter shut and his head roll back as he thrust upwards into your tight heat was a sight you wanted to remember forever. His body was covered with a light sheen of sweat and his muscles flexed as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms and taking control. His hips pistoned relentlessly, and all you could do was hold on as the tide of pleasure came rolling in. 

Your climax took you hard, making you shake and shiver in his arms. Your mind blanked as you stared into his beautiful eyes, words spilling from you in your delirious haze. 

"Arthur, please, fill me up! Breed me," you moaned.

"Oh, fuck, darlin'," he gasped as he came, your words pushing him over the edge. His fingers gripped your hips hard enough to bruise as he lost himself inside of you. Rolling you over, he pounded into you a few more times, crushing your body into the mattress, desperate to get as deep inside of you as he could. 

He stayed that way on top of you, catching his breath. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tight. 

“I love you,” he murmured as he slipped out of you. Rolling to his side, he held you close, running his fingers up and down your back. 

“I love you too, Arthur.”

He kissed you gently, full of love and devotion. Taking your hand, he held it up between your faces so he could admire the ring on your finger. He kissed the back of your hand before holding it to his heart.

“I’ll do my best to make you the happiest wife in the world.”

You believed he could do it too, because he always made you happy.

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

Part 2 here.

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