#dickensian fanfiction

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Please Don't Go, Pt. 2

paring: arthur havisham x m!reader

summary: when he finds out his beloved sister is set to marry a crook, arthur finally asks you for help

warnings: alcohol consumption/alcoholism, mentions of injury, mugging, inferred sex, mentions of depression, suicide attempt, lots of angst with a little fluff along the way

word count: 8.2k

a/n: this isn’t proofread so excuse any mistakes

part 1 | epilogue (coming soon)

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

It had only been a day but the next time you saw Arthur you found yourself bumping into him in the street.

You’d been on your way to the three cripples to see him when you saw him come out of a nearby alley, followed by none other than Mr Compeyson who called after him as he stormed off.

You wasted not a second as you made your way to him, your pace quickening slightly as you hurried to catch up with him.

“Arthur!”

The moment his name fell from your lips he stopped and turned around, his glassy eyes setting on you almost instantly. He was still wearing it: the neckerchief you had gifted to him.

“What’s wrong?” your eyes searched for answers within his own as you stepped closer.

“He’s going to marry her.”

You furrowed your brows together, not quite getting what he was saying. “Who, Arthur? Who’s going to marry?”

You could see the frustration in his features, the pain in his face as he spoke, “Compeyson. Amelia is going to marry Compeyson.”

“What? They’ve hardly known each other long enough to marry.”

“Try telling her that…” The anger in his voice dulled out as he started to walk again, this time with you by his side.

You sighed. “I don’t doubt Amelia’s judgement but I know you and I know there must be a reason you object to their union so much. I saw the two of you a moment ago in that alleyway, is this what you were discussing?”

His eyes widened and he turned back to you, stopping in his tracks once again as he worried you had gotten the wrong idea.

“It’s not like that. I- he… you’re the only one I care for.” His voice was quiet so as not to draw any attention to the two of you.

You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Arthur. I’d never question that. I only meant to ask why you think so poorly of their union. I do not know Mr Compeyson well enough myself. You’ve had more time to get to know him.”

“He… He’s a bad man, y/n. They can’t marry, can’t even get engaged. He will only hurt her.”

“Bad how, Arthur? Is he the one who hurt you? Has he hurt Amelia?”

Arthur shook his head although the look behind his eyes was enough for you to know Compeyson had certainly harmed him in one way or another. “No. He has not hurt Amelia but he will. He only wants her money, I know that much.”

You grabbed hold of his coat, tugging him into a nearby alley just as Compeyson had done only moments before.

The two of you were only inches apart yet he still managed to avoid your eyes when you asked, “You didn’t answer my first question. Has he hurt you?”

There was a fire in your voice that licked at his heart, feeling as if you were squeezing it in your hand. He felt cornered although he knew there was no use in hiding the truth from you any longer.

The nod of his head was so subtle you could have missed it. His eyes never once looked up to meet yours, not until you tapped a finger against the bottom of his chin, raising his face to look at you.

“If he ever lays a hand on you again-”

“He won’t. It was my fault. If I hadn’t said those things to Amelia-”

“No matter what you said to your sister he had no right to beat you, Arthur.”

Again, his head hung low as his eyes cast down, fixating on a button on your coat.

“I know,” he mumbled as he tried to put a little distance between the two of you.

You only stepped closer and, if it hadn’t been for the street that was growing busier by the second, you would have kissed him or even simply just held him in your arms.

Instead, all you could do was stand by him, looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes as you tried to reassure him with your words alone. “You need to have more value for yourself, Arthur. No one, and I mean no one at all, ever has the right to hurt you like that.”

“I know. I just- I was drunk and I didn’t expect it and I… I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I- I-”

His voice was broken, crumbling more with every word. If you were never to see Arthur this way again it would still be too soon. You just wanted him to be happy, wanted him to know he was loved.

“Damn it, damn it all.”

With those words, you jerked forward and encased him in your arms. You no longer cared if anyone saw you or what they might think. You were from one of the most influential families in London — no, in the entire country — and you were not going to let Arthur stand there and break down before you without so much as holding him as he wept.

He melted into your embrace, letting you hold him so tightly in the cold, narrow alley. He too no longer cared, not at that moment at least. He just needed you. He needed to feel your warmth, to have you close.

When he was in your arms it was the only time he ever truly felt safe. Safe from the world. Safe from his debts. Safe from Compeyson.

“Have you spoken to Amelia about this? Does she know? Surely she would not marry a man she knew had harmed you,” you asked as you stepped away, moving to wipe the tears from his eye with the cool pad of your thumb.

“No, she can’t know. She can never know.”

You were only growing more confused as every answer he gave strived to avoid telling you the whole truth. There was so much more to what was going on between him and Mr Comperyson, you were sure of it, but Arthur still wasn’t ready to tell you.

“Why not? Arthur, please tell me. I want to help you, I want to be there for you.”

“You are there for me… more than anyone else ever has been or will be. But this… this I can’t tell you. Not yet. Please, you must understand. It will only worsen my predicament if you get involved.”

He was finally looking at you of his own accord, his big round eyes boring into your own as he pleaded with you.

You released a hum, although you certainly did not like the idea of him facing whatever trouble he was in alone. “I will not press you for answers if you are not ready to give them. Just remember I am here, Arthur. Always. If you need anything, all you need do is knock on my door.”

𓆩♡𓆪

A day later and you were back at his lodgings again. In your haste to see him, rather than knock, you simply opened the door and walked inside.

To your utmost surprise, Arthur was not alone. Mr Compeyson sat with him, talking about something that had abruptly come to a halt the moment you walked inside with a call of Arthur’s name.

“Mr y/l/n, what a surprise.”

As usual, Compeyson spoke with a smile but your eyes only fell to Arthur who was sitting backwards on a chair. His shirt was pulled up revealing his back which was now covered in more wounds than before.

“How dare you lay a hand on him!” You were already moving, cane raised as you came to Arthur’s defence.

Compeyson only backed away with raised arms and furrowed brows, his lips already stringing together excuses.

You almost hadn’t noticed Arthur get up from where he had been sitting, wincing slightly as his shirt fell back down onto his cuts and scrapes.

He stood in front of you now, his hands on your chest as he drew your attention away from Mr Compeyson.

“It is true, y/n. He did not do this. I- I was mugged on the street,” his eyes never once left yours, trying to soothe the anger that resided within them, “I swear it, he did not do this.”

You took a hold of his chin and gently turned his face as your fingers brushed lightly over the fresh bruise on his cheek.

“You were mugged? Out on the street?”

He pulled his face out of your grasp, looking away as he spoke, “Yes. Now, what is it you came here to discuss?”

You glanced at Mr Compeyson, noticing the way he seemed to be sizing up every interaction between the two of you, and chose your words carefully.

“I wanted to tell you I have made the necessary preparations for you to come and live with me until you have sorted things out with Amelia. Seeing you now only confirms that you cannot stay here any longer.”

“I think he is perfectly fine where he is, he should be returning home soon anyway so there is no need for him to go anywhere,” Compeyson butted into your conversation, seemingly determined for Arthur to remain right where he was, where he could succumb to harm again.

You ignored him completely, speaking only to Arthur. “Please, Arthur. This part of town is not safe. You are like a brother to me, let me look after you until you can return home.”

When Arthur turned around it was not to look at you but rather Mr Compeyson. He had a look of unsureness in his eyes but he nodded his head nonetheless.

“Thank you, y/n. I need to attend to some business with Mr Compeyson today but I will collect my things for the morning.”

You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. “No need. I will have your things brought up while you are out. Once you’ve finished your business there will be a carriage waiting for you here to bring you home.”

“Thank you, Mr y/l/n. Arthur is lucky to have a friend like you.”

Although you detested the man and his false smiles, you forced your own onto your face and bid him farewell before you left.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I am like a brother to you?”

His head bobbed slightly with the movement of your chest when you chuckled. “You know I only said that so that he would not suspect anything.”

He hummed, smiling as you lightly tapped each of his fingers before threading yours through them, pulling his hand to your lips.

“Please, tell me, my love. What is bothering you? I know something is on your mind, you’ve been distracted since you arrived.”

Arthur only shook his head, the sheets pooling around his waist as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

When he sighed it was a lengthy breath, one weighed down by everything he was still keeping from you.

“He is still going to marry her, even after…” He hesitated for a moment, still undecided of whether he was going to say his next words.

You sat up too now, feeling a slight chill from the winter air that was seeping back in through the cracks in the windowsill. Your hand came to rest on the small of his back, gentle to avoid the cuts and scrapes that still darkened his snow-white skin.

“After what, Arthur? What have you been up to? What business did the two of you have today?”

He sighed again, another long, dark breath from his lips. Finally, he was ready to come clean.

“Mr Compeyson and I… Mr Compeyson was to help me get what was rightfully mine,” he finally admitted, “I employed him to help me get my inheritance from my sister. It… It was never supposed to go this far, I swear it, and today he convinced Amelia to buy my shares in the brewery. She shall buy them at double their price, giving me what I am owed but Compeyson… He-”

“He still intends to marry her, to rob her of all her fortune.”

You could hear him gulp, sweat forming on his forehead as he nodded. “Yes... Yes, and it is all my fault, y/n. Amelia will pay for the mistakes I made. For all of them.”

You pulled him closer, his head resting against your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“It is not your fault. Compeyson is a slimy wretch of a man. He is to blame, Arthur. Not you.”

He pulled away from you, out of your embrace as his eyes found themselves looking anywhere but you once again. “But if I had never gotten him involved-”

“You were not to know. No one was. Mr Compeyson played you just as he is playing Amelia. If your father could see the wedge he forced between the two of you he would turn in his grave. He did not wish this for you, Arthur. No matter how much you may think he hated you.”

“He did hate me, is that not obvious?”

His eyes grew darker as he spoke, something akin to both fear and anger settling within the deepest depths.

“Oh, Arthur,” you sighed and reached out for his hand but he only pulled it away, “Your father did not hate you. He hated me. He would never blame you or denounce you. You are his son, Arthur. He loved you no matter what. It was me he hated, me he blamed.”

“But you are not to blame,” he spoke with such sureness now, his eyes fixed on you once again, “As you said before, you did not make me feel the way I do. These things just happen.”

“Indeed they do, my love, and they always work themselves out with time it seems.”

A soft hum fell from his lips and he let you put your arm around him as the two of you lay back down. His head rested atop your bicep as he curled into your side, his arm slung over you while he closed his eyes.

“Indeed they do,” he repeated your words with a gentle smile curling on his lips and slowly began to fall asleep.

You ran your fingers through his hair for a moment before pressing a kiss against his forehead and pulling him closer still. He was so warm, his soft skin like heaven to touch. He was still your Arthur even with the troubles he was now facing and he always would be your Arthur, no matter what the cruel strings of fate had in store for you.

𓆩♡𓆪

Arthur was gone in a hurry, leaving at the crack of dawn to get his money from Amelia and speak with Mr Compeyson. He hadn’t even had time for a proper breakfast, although that may have been in part due to the two of you sleeping in a little longer than intended.

So you sat and ate alone, quietly thanking Emma when she packed a snack for Arthur as he rushed out the door.

You knew he had a plan up his sleeve. Before he left he begged you not to interfere yourself, not directly at least. He did not want anyone to know of his scheme with Mr Compeyson and rightly so. Amelia was nothing if not forgiving but you knew even she would be stricken with anger if she knew what Arthur had done.

There had to be a way to break off their engagement without her ever finding out what Arthur had done or at least a way to lessen the blow when the truth finally came to light. Arthur had made a mistake, a grave one, but that did not mean it would do either of them any good to stray even further apart.

All you and Arthur wanted to do now was protect Amelia. Both her heart and her fortune. Compeyson was after both and he had already won her heart. There was little time before he had her fortune too.

He was gone for most of the day, to your surprise, but had returned by the time you arrived home after a late afternoon business meeting of your own. Although, you were not met with quite the greeting you had been hoping for.

Emma offered you that same soft smile she always did when you arrived home, glancing up at you as you entered the dining room for dinner. Her back straightened as she lifted one of the two empty plates, clearing Arthur’s spot from the table.

“He has gone?” you questioned with a sadness to your voice.

She shook her head. “Master Havisham is in your study, Sir. He seemed to be feeling unwell and asked to be left alone.”

“I see. I shall go and check on him.”

When Arthur left that morning he had been determined, sure of himself. You knew he had every intention to confront Compeyson and convince him to leave Amelia alone and you had every confidence in him to do exactly that. Only, it seemed Compeyson was more troublesome than you would have liked to have believed.

Arthur sat in your dimly lit study as though he were frozen in thought. He did not seem to notice you enter or perhaps he simply did not care. He sat facing away from you holding what looked to be a banker’s draft in his hand.

“Arthur?”

He hummed and turned his head to you ever so slightly but it was hard to make out his expression even under the flicker of dreary candlelight. Then, he sniffled and turned his attention back to the thin piece of paper in his hand.

It was with a sigh that you found yourself standing behind his chair, glancing over his shoulder at the note to find that Amelia had bought his shares for ten thousand pounds, which was much more than they were worth.

“Do you remember when we used to sneak in here as children? We’d sit giggling under this desk, hiding from your mother when she came to take you home,” you reminisced, running your fingers along the rich mahogany.

“I remember,” Arthur spoke with a bitter tone in his voice, pretending as though he were immune to what you were doing.

As you circled the desk, you thought back on your time as children again. This had been your father’s study once and he had been more than happy for you and Arthur to sit alongside him and play at being the businessmen you would one day become.

When you looked at Arthur now you were surprised to see a combination of both the child he once was and the man he could someday become. He sat with a scowl as though he had been throwing a tantrum only moments before, kicking and screaming and begging his mother to let him stay for just a little while longer. Snot glistened under his nose and fresh tears stained his cold cheeks.

“How about when we grew older and used this study as our refuge after my father passed? You held me in your arms as I wept.���

He turned away at this, as though he could not bear to face you for he now sat in your chair, your father’s chair, the very place you had sat and cried in grief all those years ago. He did not deserve his tears nor did he deserve you. This was all his fault, after all. If only he’d been stronger, smarter—

A chuckle tumbled from your throat, jolting him from his racing thoughts. “I remember when we argued, though I can hardly remember what it was about. We yelled at each other so loud that my mother shoved us in here to settle our differences, demanding we talk like men.”

With a roll of his eyes, he put the banker’s draft down and scoffed, “She wanted us to talk, you had other plans as I recall.”

You smiled fondly then, remembering how your heated exchange of words turned into, well, something else entirely. The two of you used to be so playful back then, so full of life. Now Arthur seemed more like a shell of who he used to be and that alone shattered your heart into a thousand pieces.

He sighed. “I know what you are trying to do.”

“And what is that?” you questioned with a smirk as you perched yourself on the side of the desk.

“You’re trying to distract me. To soothe me so that I will open up and tell you why I am sitting here in the dark feeling sorry for myself when I should be celebrating. I finally have what I was owed and should be rejoicing but here I am, drowning in my own sorrows.”

Your smile fell and you reached out, pulling his hand into your own. “Your talk with Compeyson did not go too well, I presume?”

Arthur glanced down at the ground, turning his head from you.

“No. It… He…” He turned mute as his voice trailed off and turned into shaky breaths.

“What is he holding over you? Surely you have more leverage over him than he does you. Talk to me, there must be something I can do.”

“You can do nothing!” Arthur snapped as he pulled his hand from yours and stood to his feet, shoving his banker’s draft into his pocket.

All you wanted was for him to speak to you. To tell you everything, every minute detail. That way you could help him. You knew there must have been something Compeyson was holding against him, preventing him from telling Amelia the truth, and it was not the threat that he, in turn, would tell Amelia of Arthur’s hand in all this. No, Arthur would rather his sister hate him than see her succumb to ruin over some crook.

“Please, Arthur. You are not alone in this. Let me help.” Your voice was calm still as you made your plea, all but begging him to truly let you in.

He may have come back to you — may have even been staying in your very home, your very bed — but he had still been keeping his walls up. They had started to come down one by one but you were still yet to fully break through.

His hand crumpled into a fist at his side, clutching tightly onto his coat as he spoke, “He… He knows. He knows about me, about what I am and if you get more involved he’ll find out about you too. Don’t you see? He’ll bring us both to ruin!”

You closed your eyes with a sigh and stepped closer to him again. “Arthur, I do not care what others say of me. Let him find out, who would believe his word over ours? After we expose him as a fraud he will be forced to leave London and you will finally be rid of him.”

He stood still as he contemplated your words. He knew you were right, you often were, and perhaps he was a fool not to have asked you for help sooner. If only he had come to you instead of Compeyson in the first place, then maybe all of this could have been avoided. If only he had forgiven you sooner. Forgiven himself.

“He has a wife,” Arthur finally spoke, breaking through the thick veil of silence.

Your eyes widened at the revelation. This was something you could use, so long as you could prove it. Mr Compeyson would not be able to marry Amelia if he was already bound to another, after all.

“I don’t know where she is staying but if we can find her, tell her that he plans to marry Amelia, maybe she will help us?”

“Maybe,” you hummed, rubbing your chin with your finger, “For now just try to stay out of Compeyson’s way. I will find out what I can but I do not what him hurting you again.”

The very next day you went off in search of whatever you could find about Meriwether Compeyson. In a few short hours, you had his home address and were promptly on your way there in hopes of finding his dear wife.

You glanced down at the parchment in your hand and checked the address again before raising your knuckles to the door. Just as you knocked, however, you were greeted by what seemed to be a passing stranger.

“Can I help you?”

The woman was pretty, that much you were sure, but she had a somewhat offputting aura about her. Sternly, she eyed you up as though she could see through you entirely.

“Ah, yes. I am looking for the woman who lives here, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could find her, would you?”

The stranger furrowed her brows and placed her hands on her hips. “A woman? No woman lives here. Just that man. Mr Compyeson, I believe he said his name was.”

Now it was your turn to frown as you glanced back at the door with a hum. “Oh, I was led to believe that Mr Compeyson is married. Perhaps I heard wrong.”

The woman smiled at you then but shook her head. “Not married but due to be. I heard he has his eye on a fair, wealthy woman. Miss Havisham, I believe.”

Although you were sure there was more to your encounter than first met the eye, there was little more you could have done to find out the truth at that moment so you bid the woman farewell and began to head home. You already had people looking into Mr Compeyson and you were sure to be alerted the moment anything came up so you supposed it was back to business again for the rest of the day.

By the afternoon Arthur was practically skipping through the door as he hurried to rid himself of his hat and coat and came to sit with you for lunch.

“I know I am a delight to spend time with but you’ve never looked this excited for lunch before. Not since we were children at least,” you chuckled, “What has got you in such a good mood?”

“She knows. Amelia knows that Compeyson is already married. I do not know how she found out but she did. She must have seen them together, she was so infatuated she would not have believed it if it came from someone else.”

You chuckled again, relieved that it was finally over and gestured to the large fruit he had placed down on the table beside him. “That explains the pineapple then. A present for Amelia, I presume?”

Arthur’s smile only widened when he nodded and reached across the table for some sandwiches, loading his plate for the first time in a long time. Since he’d left home he hadn’t been eating well. You had noticed as much. He was drinking more often than not and only ate in small portions so it was good to see him sober and stuffing his smiling face full of all the food you had prepared for the two of you that afternoon.

“So you are returning home then?” He hummed which prompted you to continue, “I can’t say I won’t miss having you here but I am glad the two of you will be by one another’s side again, as things should be.”

He grinned and spoke through a mouthful of food, “Try not to miss me too much. I am sure I’ll find plenty of excuses to come and see you. Perhaps we will embark on a business partnership and hold meetings that run late into the night.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again with cheeks full of life. It was the first time in a long while that you had felt truly happy. Reconciling with Arthur had just been the beginning and now that the stain of Meriwether Compeyson had been removed things would only continue to get better.

Or so you had hoped.

“Arthur?”

He stumbled through the door the next night. The stench of alcohol floated around him like a dark cloud when he flopped into bed beside you.

You hadn’t been expecting him to come home to you, not after he had gone back home, and rolled over to find him facing away from you. His shoulders shook slightly as he began to laugh but you knew tears already stained his face.

Instinctively, you threw your arm around him and curled up close to his side, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck, and his laughter soon turned to quiet sobs.

You needn’t ask what was wrong, not until morning, and decided it would be better to just hold him until finally, he fell asleep.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I will kill him!” he cried through gritted teeth, “First he worms his way into her life with lies and empty promises and now he defiles her. He will not live to see the next sunrise!”

Arthur paced up and down the room, ignoring the breakfast you had prepared for him. He looked about ready to kill someone and you supposed that was true, although you and he both knew that would do no one any good.

“Breathe, my love. Just breathe.” You tried to calm him down but little seemed to be working.

He was fuming, face red and contorted with anger. Though, you could not blame him. It had turned out that Arthur had returned home only to find his sister in bed with the very man the two of you were sure never to see again. Compeyson had worked his charm and spun his lies, convincing her yet again of his devout devotion to her. Arthur had returned to the three cripples after that and only come back to you once one entire day and night had passed.

“Mr Jaggers was snooping around and if he were to find anything on Compeyson he would… I had to…”

Your heart sank. “Arthur, what have you done?”

He could not meet your eyes, he was too ashamed to. He turned from you, picking up another bottle as he poured himself a glass of brandy.

“Arthur!” his eyes widened as you turned him to you in your frustration, spilling the contents of the glass out over the floor, and you were quick to release him when you realised just how scared he looked.

Now it was you who turned as you smoothed your fingers over the creases between your brows. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but you are a fool if you have prevented Mr Jaggers from finding anything on Compeyson.”

He slumped down into a dining room chair, eyes trained firmly on the ground once again. “I know… I know but he will tell him. Compeyson will tell Jaggers about me, about you. I think… I think he knows about us. If Jaggers finds out—”

“I don’t care, Arthur. Have I not made that perfectly clear? To hell with it, if people know about us, at least the lies will finally end!”

He was shocked to find that you were willing to risk so much for him but he could not bear it. He could not bear bringing harm to you or your good name. He had already ruined himself, he would not bring scandal to you as well.

“Then it is not I who is the fool.”

He spoke under his breath but the words were still a sharp stab through your heart.

“Arthur…”

“I shall return to my lodgings and deal with this myself. Forget I ever came to you. This is my problem, I will solve it.”

He was standing before you had time to protest, already collecting his things as he hurried out the door. You chased after him, of course, but he was a stubborn man and there was nothing you could do but watch after him as he fled down the street.

In the days leading up to the wedding, you searched for Arthur. You even stood outside his lodgings banging on his door despite knowing he would not open it to you. Every time he saw you in the street he was quick to turn away.

He was avoiding you, that much was clear. He had made a split-second decision the night he left. A decision to protect you from him because he truly thought he was an obstruction to your happiness. If only he could realise he was the very object of it.

When there was no getting through to Arthur, let alone even being able to speak with him, you turned to Mr Jaggers.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention Mr y/l/n. I knew Mr Compeyson was nothing but trouble, I only wish I had seen Arthur’s hand in all this sooner.”

You were quick to jump in, quick to defend. “He made a mistake. He was angry and bitter but he never meant to hurt Amelia like this.”

Jaggers nodded his head slowly. “I know, Mr y/l/n. Believe me, as much as I may despise Arthur at times I know his love for his sister is as true as his love for you.”

It was no secret to you that Jaggers already knew about you and Arthur. He’d known since before even Arthur’s late father found out. Not that you had ever told Arthur that, he would only worry after all.

When Jaggers came to know about the two of you, rather than come to you with threats, he simply asked you to keep your business with Arthur private, for the sake of the Havisham name and your own. It was a sentiment you were as grateful for then as you are now.

“There must be something we can do. The wedding is tomorrow but Arthur will not even speak to me.”

“I will talk to him but if you hear nothing by tomorrow; please, go to the wedding. Amelia deserves to have at least one of you by her side.”

Although the last thing you wanted to do was see Amelia married to a con man, you knew that without proof there was little you could do to stop her. If all else failed, you would be by her side every step of the way and you would find some way to make sure Mr Compeyson did right by Amelia, even after securing her fortune.

“I would not miss it for the world.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Y/n?” Amelia smiled the moment she saw you come through the door, although you could tell she was surprised to see you. She had been expecting you to be at the church, of course, but it was unexpected for you to show up at her home before the carriage had even arrived.

You smiled as you took her in. She looked beautiful, as always, but there was a radiance unlike any other as she stood there in her wedding dress. She looked so happy, so excited, but it only caused a pit to burrow its way into your stomach.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I just- I wanted to ask to walk you down the aisle, if you would allow me? Only if Arthur does not come, of course. I just thought that it should at least be one of us who gave you away.”

She beamed ever brighter and placed a gentle hand on your arm, squeezing gently. “I would love nothing more. Thank you.”

There was little else you could do. She was completely set in her ways, her heart belonged to Compeyson whether you approved of it or not. Still, if the con man wished to marry Amelia then he would do just that, you only hoped he was prepared to keep up the act for as long as he lived. Even if it was fake at least she would be happy, that was all that mattered now. You did not know if you could bear to see the agony it would bring if he left her after the wedding, fleeing with her fortune. You could not bear to see her left behind.

With no sign of Arthur or Mr Jaggers, you walked alongside Honoria as the two of you followed Amelia through the house on your way to the carriage. Before you could even reach the end of the hallway, however, you came face-to-face with the very person you had been searching for.

“Arthur?” you questioned, wondering what he and Jaggers had up their sleeve, and as you did so, you drew Amelia’s attention from her caught stocking and she looked up to the door.

“Meriwether?”

It was as though all air in the room was completely sucked out as you all stood there gaping, waiting for what was to happen next.

Compeyson looked beaten, his head hanging low with his eyes trained on the ground. He seemed completely and utterly defeated. Too embarrassed to even look Amelia in the eye as he muttered out a quiet ‘sorry’.

Jaggers was quick to step forward and dismiss the staff, locking eyes with you for only a second as you found yourselves alone in the ever-darkening atmosphere.

You furrowed your brows, turning your gaze to Arthur as he instructed Compeyson, “Give it to her.”

He was hesitant but then quickly walked up to Amelia, passing her what seemed to be a letter.

Honoria was quick to turn to you, her eyes silently communicating as if she were asking you if you knew what was going on. You shrugged slightly as you did not but that was not to say you had little idea of what was happening. They’d finally cornered him, most likely, and now Compeyson was to reveal everything he had done before finally walking out of everyone’s lives for good.

When Arthur urged her to read the note, Amelia did exactly that as she made her way into the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table.

She sat and read for what felt like years as the rest of you stood waiting patiently — the closest people to her, her family, watching as she came undone.

“All a lie?” she finally spoke as she glanced up at Compeyson, “For my money?”

Compeyson turned to the rest of you then, addressing Arthur directly, “Leave us, please.”

“I will never leave you alone with my sister again,” he spoke snidely, expression smug yet sour as he stood firm.

All you could do was watch as Amelia stood from her chair and accused both Jaggers and Arthur of forcing him to write such lies. She was still infatuated, even now, and refused to believe the truth which had finally been handed to her.

The bickering only continued as Compeyson admitted his guilt, assuring Amelia that everything in the letter was the truth. He was only after her money, her fortune. That was all it ever had been, or so you all thought. It was only when Compeyson did something almost entirely unexpected that even you began to doubt his motives.

He offered to leave the money Arthur had offered him. The entire ten thousand pounds Amelia had bought his shares of the brewery with. More money than he would ever truly need, enough for him to start a business of his own and begin life anew. A small fortune he could use to live a life of luxury if he so wished, yet he was willing to leave it behind if only he could speak with Amelia.

To spin more lies, you tried to convince yourself, but you had seen love. You had felt it in your every fibre of being. You knew what it looked like and you recognised those eyes, knew the way in which he was now looking at Amelia.

“I am not to be bought!” she cried, her anger boiling over. She was not some price or precious porcelain doll, she was a woman who was capable of making her own decisions and thinking her own, independent thoughts.

Compeyson took the outburst as a direct attack and moved to take the money, seemingly giving up and simply wishing to be gone, but she ran after him. She hit him over and over in her pain, only stopping when she began to cry.

Honira was by her side in an instant, helping her to sit back at the head of the table, and all you could do was watch still as Compeyson stood frozen in place.

“Get out,” Arthur demanded.

“Everything in that letter is true,” Compeyson began as he approached her once again, “It is as cold and as spiteful as you believe it to be. Every moment, every second was contrived, bent to one purpose. To relieve you of the Havisham fortune.”

You moved to stand with Arthur, wishing to at least remind him you were there as everything continued to unfold. He moved to step away from you but you took his hand, keeping you by his side as Compeyson began to pour his heart out.

He confessed his love for Amelia then and there and, although you knew the man to be adept at spinning lies, every bone in your body was beginning to scream that he was speaking the truth.

Arthur tore his hand from yours and stepped forwards, folding his arms behind his back. “You’re already married.”

Then, Compeyson finally turned from Amelia and looked between both you and Arthur as he explained, “It was a marriage of convenience, nothing more. I would have freed myself from it.”

Amelia continued to cry, though she made a feeble attempt to stifle them, and it crushed your heart. You hated this, every moment of it, but she deserved to at least know the truth. She would have found out one way or another, after all.

“Fate throws people together in different ways.”

As he continued to express his feelings, you couldn’t help but look at Arthur, who was too busy watching with a stern scowl to notice your eyes were on him. For the first time, you felt yourself sympathising with Mr Compeyson for he was right, fate was often tricky like that.

No one gets to choose who they fall in love with, it is simply something that happens. It often comes as naturally as the rain or as quickly as lightning. Sometimes it takes time and sometimes it’s expected. More often than not, however, it is found in the places you least expect it.

And then it was Amelia who began to speak through her tears. She spoke of how she loved Compyson and how he once made her feel safe and warm and happy. How she trusted him fully and how he had now forsaken that trust and torn her heart in two.

He continued to beg and grovel but there was nothing more to be done and she told him to leave, wishing he would never return. The final blow, however, came when despite everything he had said, he still picked up the briefcase of money as he left.

Arthur and Jaggers followed behind to ensure he would leave but you remained with Amelia, refusing to step away from her side for even a second as she continued to crumble. You did not know what to say so you left the comforting to Honoria and hoped your presence was enough alone to bring her some comfort.

When Arthur returned, it was with a smile and a bottle of champagne as he exclaimed with arms open wide, “He’s gone, finally!”

You frowned, cursing him silently for being such a fool. Now was not time for a celebration, how could he not see that?

“You hated me that much?” Amelia asked with tear-filled eyes and Arthur suddenly seemed to shrink.

He lowered the bottle along with his head before looking up into his sister’s eyes. “I never meant for it to go this far, I swear it. I was just so angry… and I wanted to get back at you. When he came, he just twisted everything.”

You could hear the tremble in his voice, as though he realised now that things could not go back to how they had once been. Not now, not so soon.

Amelia huffed, “You all knew? Everybody knew.”

Jaggers shook his head, hoping to bring her some comfort when he corrected, “No. Not until today.”

Instinctively you moved closer to Arthur when he stepped towards his sister, eyes pleading as he spoke, “Don’t you see? He’s gone now. We can be together again, I can help you. We can do it together. Everything together as it should be.”

He was on his knees now, looking up at his elder sister with such devotion in his eyes. All he wanted was to make things right, to fix what he had broken.

“I’m your brother.” He smiled, hoping to show her he was being sincere.

The silence only lasted a moment as he looked down at him with nothing but sorrow in her eyes.

“I don’t have a brother.”

Just like that, his entire world came crashing back down and she looked away from him, asking us all to leave.

“Amelia…”

The moment her name fell so softly from his lips, she began to yell out in a fury, “Get him away from me! Get out! Get out!”

He backed up as she continued to scream, chasing all four of you out of the room as she began to weep again.

You all stopped outside where her screams continued to echo down the street. She was wailing now, you had never heard anything like it. You’d never seen such agony before.

When you touched a hand to Arthur’s back he flinched away. His wide, startled eyes bore into your own and then he was gone, rushing off down the street.

“Did you know?” Honoria questioned, “Did you know they were coming?”

Your head snapped to her, a pang of newfound guilt beginning to settle in. The look she gave you was one of such disgust, such disappointment. You did not know, not that they were going to come today and do… this. But you had known about Compeyson and that alone was enough to warrant the way she looked at you now.

“I- No. I… I knew Compyeson was… I’m sorry,” was all you could manage to say before you too were fleeing the scene. There was nothing more for you to do, not now. You’d return in a few days, allow Amelia some time to herself.

You did not know what to do so you walked. You walked for hours, until long after the sun had set — until you found yourself outside of the three cripples once again.

“Arthur?” you questioned as you looked up at the figure on the roof, coming to the dreadful realisation that it was the man you held most dear, “Arthur!”

He looked down at you and he stepped closer to the edge. He had been drinking, as you’d expected, but the last thing you had anticipated was to find him up there.

“Go away, y/n. It’s over. It’s all… It’s all over. She… She hates me, Amelia will never forgive me.”

Although you raised your voice, you tried to sound calm. You needed to keep him calm, to show him it was going to be okay. “She will Arthur, you just have to give her some time. Please, come down from there.”

He shut his eyes tight and shook his head and you could see the glistening of fresh tears against his cheeks. “I… I have nothing left…”

“You have me, Arthur. You’ll always have me. Always. Please, come down.”

You were growing more desperate now as the fear truly began to settle in. In truth, you did not know if Amelia would ever forgive him — if she’d ever forgive either of you — but you knew one thing. You knew that no matter what, you would love him. You would love him until the day you died. You couldn’t lose him, not now. Not like this.

His tears continued to fall but he moved back from the edge ever so slightly. “But—”

“No buts, Arthur. I will always be here. I’ll always love you so please, just come back down.”

Tears of your own threatened to spill as you watched on from below. If he decided to jump there would truly be nothing you could do.

He gulped and backed up again, moving closer to the window he had climbed out of. The breath you released when he finally began to climb back inside was so thick and heavy that you thought for a moment you had exhaled your entire soul.

Without a second to lose you ran inside and up the stairs, barging into his old lodgings within moments, and there he stood still in a daze. Even as you threw yourself at him, grabbing hold of him as if you were afraid to ever let go again.

Only then did you cry, once he was safely back in your arms. Your shoulders shook and you held him even tighter until, finally, he hugged you back.

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[stardancerluv]

Can the Past Save the Future

Part 3

Summary: Arthur is reunited with his childhood friend.

Notes/Warning: Mutual pining, drinking to access (do not drink this much!) Flashback in italics! Old school, dated views of women…

Dilberry maker - foolish person (old English slang)

“It’s ok poppet that’s long behind the two of us now.” You gently urged your twin, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Your twin pressed her lips together, and nodded. Finally, you looked up. It cut him deep to know it all still hurt you even though now, things were were worlds better. “Arthur, dear friend this is my twin brother, Y/N.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Twin brother?”

You nodded, meeting your sister’s eye and sharing a nod, you picked up the story.

“Yes, I’m her twin.” You gave Arthur your most charming smile. Just looking at him fueled that smile.

“One spring when we were terribly young, I came down with scarlet fever.” You gave your twin’s shoulder a squeeze. “How she didn’t get it is beyond me, us. Because she kept on sneaking me sweets and her company.” Looking past those wondrous brown curls for a moment, he could practically feel how stifling that room had been. “I got it bad. But then one day, after a few very harsh days I finally recovered.”

“But, how…” Arthur’s brown eyes moved from you to your twin and back at you.

“Once I recovered mum and father sent me off to several places in the summer to grow physically and up here.” You tapped your temple. “Emily, got to let her imaginations run wild each summer while I grew into a little gentlemen.”

Arther nodded then. “So that is why I only ever ran around the county-side with Emily.”

“Yes. It got my mind off of almost losing my twin, my best friend.” You added quickly added. “I met you and it was almost like having him there. I’d write him and tell him all about you.” She shot you a look and smile.

A small smile curled his lips. “We did have some awfully good adventures.”

She nodded. “We did.”

Inhaling, this was certainly interesting. “I know my twin, is incredibly happy to have me back,” You gestured with your hand. “Which is another story entirely but the history you two share is great, why don’t you join us for our dinner.”

You watched as there was a small possibly polite waver in how Arthur stood.

“Yes, Arthur join us. I’ve missed you, our friendship.”

You could still see a possible wavering. “Arthur.” You smirked, remembering your earlier exchange how his carefree confidence had reeled you in when you walked up. “I’ll order the second best brandy.” You rose your eyebrows. “Since you already ordered the best.”

A chuckle, you could practically feel came from him, as he gave you that smile with the twist to it. “How can I say no to either offers.”

*******

His heart was thudding hard in his chest as he pulled off his hat, then slipped free of his coat. “Do you mind terribly if I lay my coat over yours?”

“Not at all.”

Quickly he placed his coat there and placed his hat on top. He soon the took a seat besides his childhood friend. Glancing across the table at you he marveled at the thought. You were her twin. How what an interesting twist to things.

Sitting across from you, he was able to enjoy glancing at you.

The barmaid came back promptly.

“Prepare a plate for our friend with the foods, I ordered. He had joined us.” Emily spoke first before smiling his way.

“It will be more.”

“That is not a problem. I would hope so.”

“Thank you.” Arthur nodded. “Emily, you have always been too kind.”

You returned his smile. “Only for friends.”

“And a bottle of your second best brandy.” He watched as you spoke. When you glanced over at him with an arched eyebrow, it caused a knot to form in his stomach. The touch of your fingertips till lingered, he mused in the fuzzy warmth of his head.

“Arthur,” Emily whispered like years gone past. “sitting here like this reminds me of when the cook would call us in and give us fresh goodies. Like warm rolls.” She nudged you, her eyes were bright. He smiled.

“Arthur! Emily! Come here!”

It had been a terribly drizzly day, but sitting under the willow watching some frogs jump in and out of the pond had been fun.

Hearing the kind voice of her cook, Emily jumped to her feet and dusted herself off. She then held out a hand to you. You did the same as her.

“Oh wait!” Her eyes were bright as she leaned in close. “Let me.” He nodded and then he felt as something gave from your hair.

He made a face, taking a step back. “Tell me it wasn’t another beetle.”

She giggled into her hand. “No! Just this. A large leaf!” You held it up.

“Don’t make call you two again.” A hearty laugh came from the cook.

“We’re coming.” Emily called back, she dropped the leaf and took his hand again. “Alright, let’s run for it.”

“Yes!”

Together running across the large field, panting you both reached the door.

She wiped her hands on her apron. “Wipe those shoes, you little rascals and come in.”

He chuckled. Emily’s cook was so much nicer then his. You both knew to then go and sit at the small tucked away in the corner.

“What do you think she has for us?” He whispered.

“Maybe a tart.” Emily had whispered back.

“Fresh rolls and butter.” She smiled, placing a plate in front of the two of you. “The tarts are for after dinner.” She winked. “Yes, Arthur your mum is having you and Amelia come over for dinner while adults will be playing cards and some such thing.”

“Tarts!” You both gave a cheer before tearing the rolls open and smothering it with the soft butter.

“Your fresh bread and butter sir.” The barmaid, startled him away from the past, he sat back.

He looked up at the barmaid, her expression was blank. “Thank you.” He replied flatly.

******

The bottle and glasses clinked when the barmaid placed them beside in front of him. Lining up the glasses, glanced over at his twin’s friend.

He may not have the air that had surrounded him earlier, but he was still quite a delight on the eyes. “I still have to finish what you gave me but I am interested to see what this tastes like.”

“Oh, is he who you went over to?”

Inwardly, you groaned. Your twin was well your twin and sure she went well but now she may make you look like a fool.

“Yes, poppet it is.” You gave her a sidelong glance as you poured.

“Ahh ok.” She then happily nibbled away at her toast.

“This is pretty good Emily.” Arthur added. “Though not as good as the hot rolls or tarts your cook made us.”

“Mrs. Cratchit makes the best stuff.” She pressed her lips together and nodded. “She was a good chef. She was so kind to us.”

He smiled and nodded. “She was, remember when she saved my dignity the day I slipped in the mud?”

Emily rolled her eyes, “Do I? Luckily we had some of pupper’s clothes for the few days he had come to the country estate before going on to Dublin.” She reached over and squeezed your arm.

“Pupper, I can’t.” She put a hand out. “Really, I couldn’t possibly.” Your twin leaned in, “It would be scandalous for me to be seen drinking with two men. One my brother and one that is close to my age.” She whispered.

“Ignore their looks and thoughts. Arthur, won’t think less of you and of course nor will I.”

She made a face. “Pupper, seriously.” You shifted.

“They are all dilbery makers.”

You giggled into your hand. “Oh Poppet, ok but one drink.” She finally relented.

*****

“Oh!” You chuckled easily. “It really decided to come down didn’t it?” You struggled to slip on your coat, while looking at the heavy snowflakes that fell from the sky. A smile played on your lips. You could see why your sister had become friends with him.

You had not had that much of the brandy; had you? The struggle of getting into the coat became stronger. Then looking over at Arthur, you realized what happened. Now it all made sense.

“I will get us a coach.” Your twin announced.

There were a few nearby so you kept an eye on her, while you walked the short distance over to Arthur. Who was trying to straighten his hat.

“Tell me Arthur, are you still comfortable in my clothes?” He came and stood close to him.

The look he gave him was of confusion and then he really looked at what he had slipped into.

“Oh! It did feel a bit big.” He chuckled as he weaved towards you.

“Looks not terrible on you. But I had been worried..” Your voice trailed off as your twin called attention to the coach.

You giggled as you came over. “I got us a coach, come along you two.”

Arthur held up a hand. “I’ll find my own.”

“Nonesense. It is terribly late and if I remember the house you share with your sister is across the city.”

Arthur shrugged.

“We’re not terribly far and have plenty of rooms.” Your twin reasoned.

She did the unthinkable. Honestly, you were not sure if it was the brandy in her, the nostalgia or a bit of both. But she looped her arms with both of you. You grew completely mortified. Yet, another part of you hoped it swayed Arthur. You were very warm and fuzzy, despite the heavy snow falling around you. And at this moment, you truly didn’t want to part from him just yet. “No arguing Arthur.” You chimed in.

“Really, I mustn’t.” Though as he spoke a crooked smile spread across his face. “Unless you insist.” He glanced at you.

“I do.” You replied with your own smirk.

[kimmberleeex]

Dickensian in Love

It was an especially wintry and dreary December day in London. The townsfolk were hustling and bustling, gearing up for the upcoming holiday. Elizabeth Dunesbury was a fair, young maiden with luscious golden curls. Her skin was ivory like a china doll that little girls played with and her eyes were blue pools like the ocean, the depth of them compared. She didn’t come from a wealthy family, but she wasn’t poor either. Her father was a respected man among town but people rarely noticed her.

When they did notice her, it was because she walking about without a man to escort her. She would notice the whispers and stares every time she strolled down the streets. However, she feared no one. Something her father taught her before he left the world was how to defend herself, which was very taboo for a woman to be able to do.

Every mid day when she was doing her daily walk, she would pass by Arthur Havisham. He was a handsome young gentleman with chestnut curls, a pouty lip, and chocolate doe eyes. His family was well respected and very well off. Arthur’s father was the owner of the local brewery and recently had passed away. Ever since then, Elizabeth began noticing how sorrowful his eyes were and a permanent scowl was painted on his face. It was something that she understood because it was the same thing she felt when she lost her father.

One day, she decided to walk up to Arthur on the street, wanting to show him some kindness during the difficult time he was having.

“Excuse me, Mr. Havisham?” She called as she approached him.

He turned to meet her gaze, looking at her like she was vermin for even uttering a word to him. With a sharp tongue he replies, “What is it?”

Elizabeth goes by seemingly unfazed by his harshness. Instead she offers a sweet smile to him which Arthur isn’t used to. “You don’t know me, sir. But my name is Elizabeth Dunesbury. I heard about your father and I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am. Words do no justice but I hope you find solace in knowing he’s no longer suffering.”

Arthur, clearly annoyed by the roll of his eyes and irritated tone. “My father was a greedy, bitter old man. Good riddance.” He tries to shrug Elizabeth off and stomp away.

She turns around to him and says, “Surely you don’t mean that.”

Without even looking at her, he mutters, “I do,” before disappearing into the local pub. Elizabeth sighs to herself as she walks away. She knows he’s just processing his grief with anger and tries not to take it personally.

Over the course of a fortnight, Elizabeth tried to show Arthur kindness and break down the walls he so clearly built around himself. She would wave with a smile, sometimes she would try to bring him freshly baked bread, and on occasion she would try to spark up a conversation with him. Each time, Arthur would be rude, harsh and shrug her off.

One day, as she was leaving her apartment, she saw Arthur leaving his own down the hallway. At this point, she had enough of his coldness towards her when all she did was try to show him compassion. She marched right up to him, her anger lit like a match.

“Mr. Havisham! What on earth did I ever do to you?” Arthur was taken aback by her sudden outburst. “All I’ve ever done was try to show you compassion and kindness. I understand grief can make you lash out, but you look at me like I’m utter rubbish. You treat me like vermin. Why?”

Elizabeth’s eyes were welling up with so much emotion that they threatened to spill onto her cheeks. Meanwhile, Arthur’s anger was boiling and you could see it all over his face. Without a word , Arthur quickly wraps his strong hand around Elizabeth’s throat and slams her up against the wall. His grip tightening slightly with an intensity burning in his eyes. A gasp leaves Elizabeth’s lips but she doesn’t feel afraid of him. Instead, there’s this extraordinary heat building deep within her core.

There’s an unspoken electricity between them and in this short moment it felt like an eternity. With a fervor, Arthur crashes his mouth against hers. It’s rough at first, but his demeanor begins to soften, his lips beginning to melt into hers. She softly whimpers into him as his tongue brushes against her bottom lip. His mouth tasted bitter like the brandy he drank. Arthur found her lips to be sweet and intoxicating. Slowly, he fumbles her into his apartment, locking the door behind them.

Their breath was heavy as they finally pulled away from each other. They had yet to say a word to one another, the air thick with this tension between them. Arthur’s eyes were heavy with lust and Elizabeth’s matched his. Arthur removed his waistcoat, tossing it onto a nearby chair. His gaze locked onto Elizabeth as she began to undress herself. Slowly peeling off the layers of her coat and dress.

He slowly removed his jabot collar and unclasped the buttons on his now loose fitting blouse that he untucked from his trousers. With a fluid motion he pulls off his blouse and reveals his bare torso. His trousers were hanging off his hips, he slowly unbuttons and begins peeling them off.

Elizabeth was down to her petticoat and corset, her heart racing with anticipation as she stared at Arthur’s beautiful body. She was in awe of his porcelain like skin and toned form. Closing the space between them, she marveled as her fingers delicately caressed his skin and the dips of his collar bone. He shivered at the sensation, Arthur had never been touched like this before.

Arthur had never found attraction to women, something that was illegal and could have you sentenced to death for in London. The very thing that his father discovered before his death and had him written out of his will for. However, there was something about Elizabeth that was different. Something sparked within him that he had never felt before. His long member was hardening against his thigh as she placed soft kisses along his neck and her hands ran across his chest.

Arthur’s nimble fingers helped Elizabeth out of her corset and petticoat, revealing her full figure and swollen breasts. Her skin was so soft as Arthur ran his fingers gently across it. Elizabeth was not used to such tenderness from Arthur as he was normally so cold and callous towards her. He kissed her again, his hand caressing her cheek as her body melded into his.

He picked her up and carried her bridal style to his bed where he laid her down. He murmured more to himself rather than to her, “Such a pretty pet…”

Her lips curled up into a smile, which was contagious as his own followed. He laid down next to her and kissed down her neck. Breathing in the floral scent of her perfume on her skin. It was deliciously intoxicating as his mouth found its way to her ample bosom. His pouty lips encompassed one of Elizabeth’s pink nipples, it hardened in his mouth and she let out a soft moan. Her hands found their way into his soft curls as her back arched up in response to his tongue flicking over her sensitive flesh.

Arthur breathes out a low moan as his hand slides up between Elizabeth’s delicate thighs. His fingers finding her wet heat, her hips buck up into his touch. He lifts his head and watches her face contort with pleasure as his finger swirls around her swollen bud. “Such a naughty little cockish wench,” he breathed out with a smirk.

Elizabeth sucks in her bottom lip, her teeth digging into her tender skin. Arthur spreads her legs and aligns himself at her entrance. His swollen head rubs against her slick folds before slowly sliding between them. They both grunt and moan as he slowly stretches her to fit his length. Before this, the both of them were pure and untouched. However, the way their bodies communicated with each other, you would never imagine that was the case.

Arthur slowly thrusted his hips into hers, their moans echoing off of the walls as he built up a steady rhythm. One of his hands intertwined with hers, the veins bulging as his grip tightened, pinning it above her head. His other hand, much more delicately this time, wrapped around her throat, his thumb brushing across Elizabeth’s jaw as he kissed her sensually.

He murmured into her lips, “Feel so f*cking good, poppet..,” followed by a low, guttural moan. The throb from his member deep inside of her was causing her to clench around him, making him whimper pathetically.

Elizabeth’s back arched as she felt an unfamiliar tightness in her belly forming. Her brain was in a fog of pleasure and couldn’t bring herself to form words, just moans and heavy breaths. Her hand gripping his tightly, her other getting tangled in his chestnut curls as he buried himself in her neck.

Arthur could feel a familiar pull in his own belly, impending his own release but he refused to give into his satisfaction until Elizabeth came undone for him. “C’mon, love…let go for me..,” he groaned into her ear.

“Oh, Arthur..,” Elizabeth whined as she felt a snap of a metaphorical cord deep within her core. Arthur could feel her delicate walls convulsing around his throbbing member and it was enough for him to come undone. His teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of her neck as a muffled wail left his lips. His seed pulsed out of him and filled her entirely, their bodies throbbing together as they came down from their high.

The both of them were coated in sweat, their hair clinging to their faces. Arthur’s now lobcock slowly slips out of her wet heat and coated with her slick. He rolls over onto his back beside her, both of their chests heaving as they try to catch their breath.

“Bloody hell…should have yelled at you ages ago.” Elizabeth teased.

With a soft chuckle, Arthur turned onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. A cheeky smile turning up the corners of his lips as he brushed the back of his fingers across Elizabeth’s rouged cheeks. His voice was soft, a change that she could certainly get used to. “I’m glad you did,” he murmured as he kissed her softly. A love blossoming between them that started, without their knowledge, the moment Elizabeth introduced herself to Arthur.

[queereldritch]

I am craving to read things with my crack pair (Arthur Havisham (Dickensian)/Jace Wayland (City of Bones)) that I want to somehow wedge into my Stranger Things fic.

But to do that, I must first write it.

And I am scared to? Nervous to? Something else? Who knows.

C'mon writing apparatuses (brain ,fingers, tech, battery) let's come through with this eh.

[vincent-marie]

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[frodothefair]

Numbers 9 and 13 for the ask game, perhaps?? Also congrats on finishing the Rivendell story!! I saw that was up and I know you've been working hard on it!!

The ask game in question

9. Top three fics you’ve written (in author’s opinion)? ♡♡♡

Hmm. I'll limit this just to the ones currently published as I'd rather not discuss my past anime fic writing career on this space. There are only three fics currently published. I'd rank them as follows:

Rivendell (thanks for the congrats, btw! It was fun to write!) This is simply because it's actually a finished, cohesive piece. I know I said I might write more, and likely still will, but the way it is now works as a shandalone.

Flowers of Mordor. This is because it’s still not written all the way to the end, and I am still not 100% happy with a couple of the chapters in the middle, so am putting them through another round of edits. But overall it's my longest-running project to date, and also my longest fic ever (there may have been one prior fic that just crossed the 100k mark), and of course I love the way Marigold turned out, as well as Frodogold as a couple.

Expats. The fun first chapter got written, but I don't know if I have what it takes to write the whole story, because heck if I know anything about how Hollywood works, especially its more unsavory parts. But then again... if it's just fanfiction, how accurate does it really have to be when it's all in good fun?

13. Drop a playlist for a story! ♪♡♪

Ok, um. You have to realize you asked for this. You have only yourself to blame. A lot of the songs on my fic playlists have to do with not just the overall gestalt and concepts of the fic, but specific scenes and even lines, and I am here to explain it all.

Here's the definitive playlist for Flowers of Mordor. Tagging @konartiste per our special pact.

(cut for minor spoilers.... also for being long):

"Dawn" theme from the Pride and Prejudice 2005 soundtrack. A must for the Austenian vibe.

"Poppy's Song, Wandering Day" by Bear McCreary from Rings of Power. The singer sounds exactly what I think Marigold sounds like.

"I Dreamt I Dwelled in Marble Halls" as performed in the Dickensian Finale. Sam/Rosie relationship vibes. I imagine Rosie singing this song for an audience in the tavern, but looking at Sam all the while -- which is essentially what happens in the finale of Dickensian.

"Halo" by Beyoncé, arranged for strings for Bridgerton. Pippin arranges this song for violin and writes a Shire-compatible version of the lyrics as a candidate for the first dance music at the Frodogold wedding.

"I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston, arranged for strings for Bridgerton. Another candidate wedding song by Pippin.

"Tous les garçons et les filles de mon âge" by Françoise Hardy. Marigold vibes: sweet innocent girl slightly wistful that everyone her age is in a relationship and she is not... yet.

"Portugeuse Love Theme" from Love Actually. Love reunited theme.

"On my Own" from Les Miserables. Direct inspiration for the following excepts from Chapter 16: "Marigold had found herself lying awake for hours, watching the starlight in the trees and thinking, with surprising nonchalance, “Oh, dear, I guess I cannot sleep.” And when she did at long last fall asleep, then the dreams would begin, and Frodo would appear before her, and together they would walk and talk until morning." Original lines: "in the darkness the trees are full of starlight and all I see is him and me forever and forever" and "I walk with him till morning."

"Nessun Dorma" from Turandot. Needs little explanation, I think. Frodo is an insomniac.

"In Dreams" by Roy Orbison. But when Frodo does sleep, he has a lot of dreams.

"Dreams are My Reality" from the movie La Boum. Again a reference to Frodo's many dreams.

"Babylon" by David Gray. Inspiration for the scene where Marigold kicks through the autumn leaves in Chapter 13.

"May it Be" by Enya. Probably needs no explanation either.

"Everywhere" by Michelle Branch. Vibes of Marigold being in unrequitedly in love and seeing Frodo in everything around her, wondering if he feels the same.

"Flora's Secret" by Enya. Vibes of Marigold and Frodo lying in the grass, holding hands and staring at the sky grinning like idiots.

"Don't Talk To Me About Tomorrow" by Sandra Lisa. A song the Gamgee family ensemble would perform poorly but enthusiastically at... oh, Midsummer or something.

"Love The Way You Lie" by Eminem ft. Rihanna. Directly referenced by this except in Chapter 20: "She loved him so much that she could not deny him. Even if he said that she should burn, she would burn. And even if he said that he would watch her, there, at the edge of that forest – watch her with indifferent eyes as she screamed and burned to death – she would only have welcomed it; she would have only been glad of such an end." Original line: "gonna stand there and watch me burn? That's alright, because I love the way you lie."

"Black Sheep" by Metric. Referenced by the following line in Chapter 3: "And then there was him and Sam, lying on a rock amid flows of lava, waiting for the world to end." Original line: "hello again, friend of a friend, our common goal was waiting for the world to end."

"Concerning Hobbits" from The Lord of the Rings. No explanation needed, again.

"Je suis malade" by Lara Fabien. Vibes of Marigold screaming in the woods in chapter 20.

"Blue Hydrangeas" by Lana Del Rey. Chapter 8 is literally called "Of Lembas and Hydraneas," and Bag End is referenced as having blue hydrangeas in the garden. Blue hydrangeas symbolize regret. Also, it's repeatedly mentioned that Marigold would run to Frodo if only he called her... though in the end she... actually does not? Not immediately? Because you don't jerk someone around for months and then get away with it scot-free.

"The Rosenkavalier Suite" by Richard Strauss. It has like three lovely waltzes rolled into one, and Frodo must teach Marigold something similar to a waltz for their first dance together at the wedding.

“Here we come a-caroling” as performed by Blackmore’s Night. The Gamgee a slightly modified version of this song in Chapter 19 while caroling on Yuletide Eve.

Béma above... what did I just spend 30 minutes of my life on? Lol.

[nervous-breakdown-hat]

There's nothing so fanishly disappointing as finding a perfect fic and going to check the author's other works, only for their AO3 bio to say 'this is my smutty alt' and have no other works. I am like a Dickensian orphan holding out my empty bowl for more fic, and this person is hiding it behind some other "respectable" username, as though this is not fanfiction, and instead is like you're legal name for filing taxes or some such nonsense.

(But like this is so good.)

[bottlesandbarricades]

Real ones know Joseph Quinn as that bitter scheming twink, who was left sobbing on a roof top not long after Christmas and we got absolutely no resolution to that cause the bbc just didn't make anymore of the show

[gayforjosephquinn]

hiii.I saw that U take requests so can I request a auther Havisham x m reader cuddles headcannons, like different ways autger spoons and holds the reader, putting reader on his lap, when auther likes to to be spinner ect. Thanks

My god, how much I love this man <3 Hope you enjoy, I had so much fun writing for him!

Arthur Havisham x male reader: Cuddling HCs

HCs (and spoilers) under the cut | Requests are open!

Set in an AU episode 20 ended happy: Compeyson is gone for good and Amelia forgave Arthur, they run the brewery and live together.

This man is so touch-starved, it's insane

Despite not being able to touch you in public (for obvious reasons), he will always be next to you. Walking down the block, sharing a drink at the pub, at a party--he's never far from you

In private, however, it's a different story

Little spoon

Enjoys feeling your warmth engulfing him as your arms are wrapped around him, the expensive cologne he bought for you filling the air

On rough nights, Arthur will crawl on top of you and bury himself into your chest, much like a kitten

PLEASE play with his hair and rub his back while he complains about his day. This man will be over the moon

Of course, if you had a rough day, or if you ask him to, Arthur will wrap you in his arms in a millisecond

Will do anything for his love

Tea? Hot bath? Massage? Enough liquor to forget about what made you upset? Done. It's ordered

Especially enjoys laying on his back with your head on his chest, legs tangled together. Being able to look down and see your blissful face as you sleep makes his heart skip a beat

If you come in while he's working on paperwork, he will look at you with those big brown eyes, pleading you to come over

More often than not, he will sit on your lap. It's easier for him to read and sign papers.

Might try something to get you to forget his work

Cheeky bastard

If he's sick of working that day, he'll have you sit on his and read him the papers.

As much as he loves living with his sister and having servants doing menial tasks for him, he wishes for just a day of the home being vacant for the two of you

Imagines laying on your chest, soaking in your being, while you rub circles in his back. The fireplace crackles as its warmth. Heaven. Pure heaven.

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

HIIII sooo i have a little request for arthur havisham

like, his boyfriend is an artist, he paints and writes so how abt him finding some sketches and poems that his boyfriend did for him but was too shy to show him? i think it would be adorable <3

Did You Draw This?

Pairing: Arthur x Male!Reader

Summary: You've been secretly drawing your boyfriend Arthur for a while now and you've been too scared to show him your drawings, until one day when he finds one of them.

A/N: So I'm not sure if this is good or not because I've never written Arthur as a happy character before lol and also this is my first time doing a male reader so I hope it's okay. This was such a sweet idea!

Also, I wasn't sure how to incorporate the poems part without it sounding out of place so I hope it's okay that I just did the sketches.

You couldn't help the small smile that graced your lips as you looked down at your latest sketch of Arthur in your hands.

You wanted to show him, especially since you'd been secretly drawing him for the past month now. You must've had at least six different drawings now, and everytime you saw him you had the urge to show him what you'd drawn.

But to be honest, you were worried he might think it was strange.

You took a short breath before slipping the image away in your coat pocket and entering his room.

He was sitting on his bed, a glass of wine in his hand. "(y/n), could I speak with you a moment?"

"Alright." You said quietly, keeping your hands at your sides as you waited for him to continue.

You noticed the hint of a smile on his face as he pulled out a slip of paper from his nightstand. "I believe you may have left something here after your last visit."

Your heart almost stopped beating when he presented a drawing to you, one of your drawings. "Oh, well you see...that...that is...I can explain...I just-"

"Did you draw this?"

You nodded, nervously wringing your hands together. "Yes, yes I did. I apologise."

He chuckled, turning the image around now to look at it himself. "There's no need to apologise, I'm flattered."

"You are?"

"Yes! Honestly, I'm just surprised you'd even think to draw me in the first place."

You couldn't help but sigh at that last comment. "Arthur, why must you always put yourself down? You're a truly wonderful man and I've been drawing you because of that reason."

"Do you have any more drawings? Or is it just the one?" He suddenly asked, looking up at you.

"I...have a few." You confessed, revealing your latest sketch from your pocket and handing it to him as you sat down beside him.

You noticed a small smile grace his features as he looked down at the drawing, and it made your heart flutter as you took him in.

"Your smile really is incredible." You found yourself saying quietly, more to yourself than him.

"Thank you." He said, turning to look at you. "For the drawings, it really means a lot to me."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course." He smiled, bringing a hand up to rest against the side of your face. "You're amazing."

[Main Masterlist] [Arthur Masterlist]

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Please Don’t Go

paring: arthur havisham x m!reader

summary: when arthur thinks he has lost everything important to him, a past love comes back to show him there is still much to live for.

warnings: internalised homophobia, kind of a slow-burn, mentions of death, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, mutual pining, kissing, indications of sexual activity, mentions of injury, mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, mostly angst with some sprinkles of fluff along the way, don’t worry there is a happy ending (kind of)

word count: 8.5k

a/n: this isn’t proofread and i’m ill so excuse any mistakes (or point them out so i can fix them 😉)

part 2 | epilogue (coming soon)

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

Arthur Havisham was a conundrum of a man. He had been the entire time you had known him, even back when you were boys. No one ever quite understood him, no one other than you and his dear sister Amelia.

The three of you had been close friends almost all your lives. You’d been introduced around the ages of five and six. Amelia was a little older, perhaps eight or nine.

When your fathers were in the study discussing business and your mothers gossiping in the drawing room, the three of you often found yourselves getting into ample trouble around the house.

Whether you were visiting the Havisham house or if they were visiting you, there was always fun to be had. Amelia had taken you in under her wing, becoming the older sibling you’d always needed. Having them around so much filled the gap that was left behind from the siblings you’d never had yourself.

You never felt lonely with the two of them by your side but things started to change as you grew older.

When childhood started to make its transition into adulthood you started to experience and feel things that you were not supposed to feel.

All your life you had grown up with the expectation that you would one day marry Amelia. Your parents wanted it and so did hers. Even family friends used to joke about it, telling you that you were far too young to already be courting such a fine young woman.

That was all it would ever be though. Jokes and wishes. You realised that pretty early on in your youth, as had Amelia. She had no intention of marrying you and she knew you had no intention of marrying her.

She wanted to find her own way in life. She didn’t want to marry the first man presented to her. For you, it was a little bit different.

Not once had you ever harboured romantic feelings toward Amelia. She had always been a sister to you and nothing more. Much like how she simply saw you as another younger brother.

You were content with that. No, happy with it. For it wasn’t Amelia you had feelings for but rather her brother, Arthur.

Arthur had always been your closest friend, a companion you knew you wanted by your side until the day you died. You hadn’t realised quite how far your feelings went until you reached around fifteen. That was a common age for boys to start feeling those types of things. Or so you had been told. For one man to feel those types of feelings for another was forbidden, a sin in the eyes of the lord.

Or so you had been told.

At first, it had felt like a sin. You had never seen Arthur in love, you didn’t know what it looked like. If only you had loved before you loved him, then maybe he would have recognised the look in your eye every time the two of you were together.

It would have all happened so much quicker rather than being drawn out into agonising years of your life. Knowing he was so near, yet so far away.

Not until you turned eighteen did you know that he harboured the same feelings for you. He too felt had felt it to be a sin all those years, hiding it from all but himself until one day he simply couldn’t hide it any longer.

The two of you had been on a walk around your garden, long out of sight by the time it started to rain. You lived just out of the city, surrounded by acres of fields and meadows and woodland. At the furthest edge of your family’s property was a tree — your tree. It had always been yours, a secret place for you and him, one you hadn’t even shared with your dear Amelia.

That day, you were standing under that tree. Laughing as the heavens opened up and poured down on you. Arthur’s curls were soaked through, clinging to his face as he tried to take shelter under the largest branch on the tree.

You stood beside him, like-minded in your pursuit for shelter. Although, perhaps it wasn’t shelter you had been seeking that day. It certainly hadn’t been shelter you were seeking when his lips finally fell onto yours, throwing caution to the wind as you held tightly onto his coat.

His lips were wet with rain water but they didn’t slip one inch out of place, slotting against yours as if they had supposed to have been there all along. He held you back, his hands cupping each side of your face as he kissed you.

When reason finally returned to him and he pulled away, you were breathless. His bambi eyes were open wide, shocked at what he had done.

You chuckled, your hands never once moving from where they held onto his coat. When he tried to move away, your fingers held on tighter and you yanked him forward, kissing him again.

It could not have been a sin, not when it felt like that. Not when it felt so right. Something so sweet and heavenly could only come from the hands of God himself.

Arthur Havisham was not a trick planted by the devil to taint your soul. He was not to be the cause of your damnation. No, he was a gift from the angels. He was a piece of your very soul.

“Arthur…”

He shushed you, breath against your lips as he gently pushed you back into the trunk of the tree. It was rough against your back, even through the fabric of your clothes. A stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips against your own.

You pushed back against him, curling your fingers into his hair.

It was a passion you’d never experienced before. Years of longing fading away into nothing now that you finally had him in your arms.

𓆩♡𓆪

For a few more years you continued with your romantic liaisons, keeping your relationship a secret from the rest of the world.

When you were apart it was insufferable. When you were together but could not be together under the watchful eye of others, it was excruciating. But when you were alone, whether out in the gardens or hiding in a dimly lit room, it was bliss. Complete and utter bliss.

Until the day you were caught.

It was foolish, you supposed, to think that you could hide away forever. To think that what you had could last until the end of time.

You did not know if it was worse or better that it was his father who had caught you in Arthur’s bed or if you’d rather it had been one of the servants. No, servants talked. The head of the Havisham estate would take his son’s secret to his grave.

And that was exactly what he did.

Not a single soul heard even a fleeting rumour about the night you were caught. Not a soul saw you leave that night, Mr Havisham made sure of that. He escorted you out personally, after giving you a moment to get dressed.

He had addressed you directly, not once daring to utter a word to Arthur. You had been bold, squeezing Arthur’s hand tight as tears pricked at his eyes. He only pushed you away, muttering quietly for you to leave.

Just leave. His voice had been transient, fading as he all but whispered the final word. He did not really want you to leave. He knew you could never come back once you had.

You didn’t see much of him after that.

His father hadn’t been mad at you. He hadn’t even raised his voice, opting for silence as he shut the gate behind you on your way out. Even in his eyes, you could glimpse no anger.

Still, you didn’t return to the Havisham home after that day, although you wanted to. More than anything you wanted to go back. You wanted to see Arthur, to tell him everything was okay. But you knew you could not.

It was as if you’d made a silent promise that night. You would not return, you’d leave Arthur be, and in return, both of your secrets would be safe.

You saw him briefly in passing, his frame catching your eye at parties and dinners. He always seemed to have a glass in his hand, that you noticed. His eyes lacked the sparkle they had before as he drank his troubles away.

For a while he and his father scarcely spoke but, soon enough things returned to normal again. Back to how they should have been.

𓆩♡𓆪

You stood outside the Havisham home as the carriage arrived. You watched as it pulled up outside, an elegantly decorated coffin inside.

Snow fell all around, covering everything in a deathly white. It was pretty, beautiful even, but not as beautiful as him.

Even in mourning, you yearned for him. Yearned to be by his side, yearned to ease his pain.

His eyes flickered over to you but they only remained for a moment before they were gone again. He knew you would be there because in many ways his father had become a father to you.

Your father had died years ago before the two of you were forced apart. Mr Havisham had taken it upon himself to ensure you and your mother were looked after. He’d come to you, helping show you the ropes of running your family business. He had been nothing but kind to you up until the night he drove you away.

When your father died Arthur had been there to comfort you, to lend you a shoulder to cry on. Now you wanted to be that for him. Even if you could only be there as a friend.

You still loved him and you knew he still loved you, but he was Arthur Havisham, an enigma of a man and, at times, a fool.

Rather than let you back in, he was going to push you further away.

Amelia smiled as they passed you. There was an indescribable sadness to it but she was trying to reassure you that she was well — that she was okay.

You smiled back, hoping to show her that you too were being strong.

When the carriage began to move again, you took your place and walked behind it. You followed it all the way to the end, standing only a short distance from Arthur and Amelia as they buried him.

Still, not once did Arthur so much as look your way.

When the crowd began to disperse, you moved to his side, following along behind him even when he turned away from you.

“Arthur.”

He ignored you, walking on as if he simply hadn’t heard you but he had. You saw the way his grip tightened around the top of his cane at the sound of his name on your lips.

“Arthur!” you called again, this time grabbing onto his wrist to stop him from leaving.

He turned to you with already teary eyes. “Let go.”

“Arthur.”

Your voice was so soft and inviting, and when you said his name for the third time, he finally released some of the weight that had been sitting on his chest with a long, deep breath.

He let you slip your hand down from his wrist and wrap around his own, holding it as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

It only lasted a moment for he was soon pulling away from you again. “I cannot do this.”

Just like that, he was rushing away again.

“Arthur!” you raised your voice now as you called after him, pulling your hat off in frustration as you watched him leave, now nothing but a trail of footprints in the snow.

𓆩♡𓆪

It had been a few days since the funeral — a few days since you’d last seen Arthur — when you showed up at the Havisham home.

You recognised the servant who answered and it seemed she still recognised you despite it being so long since she’d last seen you at the door. Almost immediately she was ushering you in out of the cold, seeing you into the drawing room before rushing off to inform Arthur of your visit.

Although to your dismay it wasn’t Arthur who came to greet you.

“Y/n, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?”

“I, uh, I came to see Arthur. Is he here?”

She seemed almost upset at the mention of his name, her smile quickly falling, and you already knew something must have happened since you last saw them.

“No. He’s, um, he’s left home.”

“Left home?” you asked, voice thick with worry.

She nodded. “Yes. We had a disagreement over father’s will and he left. He said he no longer has a home, y/n.”

You pulled her into your arms, hugging her tight as she began to cry. She had just lost her father, she didn’t need to lose a brother as well.

“I will go find him,” you reassured when you finally let go and grabbed your coat.

She called after you and you turned back, listening as she asked you to bring him back. There was an urgency in her tone, she clearly felt as though she had done him wrong. She just wanted him home.

You knew how Arthur was. He was stubborn and could be so full of spite sometimes. Most of all, however, he was easily hurt. He always had been. He was strong, stronger than even he believed, but his emotions had their way of consuming him at times.

𓆩♡𓆪

Impatient knuckles rapped against the door, your foot tapping against the ground as you waited for him to open the door. You didn’t call out to announce yourself, knowing it would be unlikely that he would answer if you did.

You heard his voice on the other side, calling out to tell you he was coming and, before long, he opened the door.

The moment he saw you he tried to push it shut again but you didn’t let him, firmly pushing your hand against the door to keep it open as you walked inside. He backed inside with a scoff, turning from you as he reached for his glass.

“Drinking again, Arthur? Really?”

“What do you know?” he snapped, his voice as sharp as knives.

You sighed and relaxed, not wanting to sound condescending towards him. “I know you’re refusing to return home. Amelia is worried sick, you know? Not to mention heartbroken.”

“She’s heartbroken? Don’t make me laugh.”

“She is, Arthur. She needs you, she needs her brother. She just wants you to come home.”

He shook his head, dismissing all you had to say. “It didn’t work when she came here herself, it’s not going to work now that she’s sent you. I don’t want your charity or pity, I just want to be left alone.”

“Why? Tell me why you want to be alone so much, Arthur. Why push everyone who cares about you away? First me, now Amelia? For what reason could you hate us both so much.”

His demeanour changed and you could almost see him physically become smaller as he cast his eyes to the ground.

“I don’t hate you,” he said, his voice downtrodden, “I could never hate you.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? I’m here, Arthur. I’m not going anywhere, just talk to me.” You were begging him as you spoke, desperate for him to confide in you. You just wanted him to know he wasn’t alone, that he had people who loved him.

He buried his sorrow, anger returning to his eyes. “You left me before, you’ll do it again. It’s your fault, you know? All of this is. If you hadn’t-”

“If I hadn’t what, Arthur? And might I remind you that I didn’t choose to leave you, you pushed me away just like you’re doing right now.”

“If I had never met you… If he hadn’t caught us that day he would have never done this! Don’t you see? He took everything from me! Everything! All because I loved you.”

His words cut deep, even when you knew he didn’t mean them. It hurt and it made you angry how he was putting all of the blame on you, making it out like you hadn’t had to endure hardship from being with him too.

“I didn’t force you to fall in love with me, Arthur. No more than you made me fall for you. These kinds of things just happen, we don’t choose them but do not say it was a bad thing. Do you really regret it? Everything we had? Everything we meant to one another? Would you have rather it never happened at all?”

He watched you with an unreadable expression. For once, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking but you knew he was thinking and thinking hard at that. His brows were knitted, his hands curling into balls as you spoke.

“Tell me, Arthur. Tell me it meant nothing to you. Tell me you regret it. Tell me you wish it never happened and I’ll leave right now but know if I do, I won’t be coming back.”

You thought you had him. You thought there was no way he would disregard everything you had together so easily. You were wrong.

“I wish it never happened.”

Your face trembled in anger, your hand clutching your cane so much tighter than before, but then the anger hollowed out into this bitter, empty nothingness.

“Very well. Goodbye, Arthur.”

There was a gaping hole in your heart, the void tearing further open as you marched outside. A stray tear started to run down your cheek but you wiped it away with a gloved finger.

𓆩♡𓆪

The days rolled by slowly and you’d heard little of Arthur. You were not sure what he was doing or what he was planning but you knew he was still sulking, still refusing to meet with his sister. So, Amelia had resorted to other means to talk with him.

You had been waiting for her in the drawing room and, when she finally returned, asked, “So? Will he be there?”

“He will. Although he was not happy about it.”

You hummed, “At least he will be there.”

“Yes, and I hope you will too?”

You crossed your brows, disliking the suggestion. “You want me to come to the new year reception? I don’t think that is a good idea. I fear Arthur will be less happy to see me than he will be simply being there.”

“Please, y/n. I need you by my side for this and you know Arthur can be… well, difficult at times.”

“You want me there to keep an eye on him?”

“And to show your support for me. Our families have always been close. I’m sure just having you there will help cement me in my new position.”

You wanted to say no. To come up with an excuse, any excuse. You weren’t ready to face him, not after what happened the last time you saw him. But you couldn’t leave Amelia on her own.

You knew what it was like to be left alone after the death of a parent, to suddenly have piles of responsibility thrown onto your shoulders. And you weren’t a woman, it was easier for you. You couldn’t leave Amelia to face it alone, you just couldn’t. So, you put your feelings to the side and agreed to attend the reception.

𓆩♡𓆪

There they were, Arthur and Amelia standing side by side with smiles as they greeted every guest as they arrived.

When he caught sight of you, your heart frosted over and burnt up in flames all at once. His smile fell a little but then he looked away, speaking to another guest with that forced smile tainting his features once again.

There was a feeling worse than knowing you could not be by his side. A feeling worse than watching him push you away. A feeling that tore through your very existence like a whirlwind, bringing disarray to your life.

That feeling came from watching the pain he was in. Seeing him so hurt, so broken, it killed you. You just wanted to see him smile like he used to. You wanted nothing more than to hear the brightness in his voice and see the sparkle in his eye. You missed it — missed him.

Amelia saw the interaction between you and rather than speak to you she simply smiled your way with a subtle nod of her head, leaving you to go about your business so that you didn’t have to speak to him when you weren’t ready.

As people chatted away, Arthur stood off to the side. His arms were folded over his chest as he did a meagre job of pretending he was okay. You had spotted him from halfway across the room and still, you could see the unpleasant expression that held his face captive.

You took a deep breath and made your way toward him but, when he spotted you, he turned away, ducking into another room to escape you.

“Ah, Mr y/l/n. I’ve been wanting to speak with you all evening.”

Before you could follow after him, a tall man whom you briefly recognised from your father’s funeral stepped between you and your route to Arthur.

“Mr Barnett, how have you been these days?”

You entertained the conversation, partially glad to have something else to focus on.

After a few minutes, when the music began to play, Arthur was back in the room again. This time accompanied by his sister.

They danced together and, for a moment, he looked happy. His smile was radiating and it was as if nothing had happened between any of you. It felt as though things were back to how they had been not all that long ago. Well, until a gentleman you didn’t recognise cut in, whisking Amelia away to dance.

You saw how Arthur watched them, his eyes narrowing as the gentleman spoke to her. You weren’t sure what they were talking about but you could see Amelia seemed confused or at least somewhat surprised to see him there. Though she seemed to know the man so you decided to keep your questions at bay until later.

Arthur soon turned away, making a dart for the door the moment she was distracted with something else.

That was your chance and you took it, quickly following after him before he could make it out to the street.

“Arthur!”

He sighed, his head turning to look at you with a low, solemn chuckle. “I thought you weren’t coming back?”

“I’m not here for you, Arthur. I’m here for Amelia.”

His laugh grew more patronising. “As if she hadn’t already taken enough from me now she’s taken you too.”

“It’s not like that, you know that. I’m here as her friend, as a brother just like you. She hasn’t taken me, it was you who pushed me away.”

No matter how many times you said it, nothing seemed to go in. He just wasn’t listening to you — didn’t want to listen.

You sighed and pushed your fingers to your forehead, massaging the tight skin there. “For God's sake, Arthur. When will you just stop sulking and come back home? Can’t you see she wants you by her side?”

“Sulking? I simply want what is mine. When she gives it to me, I will come

home.”

He was beginning to get on your nerves, going round and round in circles over and over again until it made you dizzy.

“You know that isn’t going to happen. It’s not what your father wanted.”

“Of course, it’s not! How could my father want me, a stain on his good name, to inherit his riches?” he snapped, his voice growing louder.

You were thankful for the music, thankful that no servants were around, thankful that this conversation was one kept between the two of you.

“Don’t be a fool, Arthur! Don’t throw what you have away over some petty argument. Just make up with your sister and come home. You have more than enough means to make your own way in this world, you are a Havisham after all.”

You appealed to his family pride, hoping it would help to sway him, but it did nothing of the sort.

“Yes! I am a Havisham! That’s why I shouldn’t have to sit idly by while my sister steals what is rightfully mine!”

Although you had tried not to, you were growing angry at him. All you wanted was for him to listen, to finally see what he was missing, but all he cared about was his inheritance and what he believed to be rightfully his.

“Is that all you care about? You just want the money? The power? If so then you can gladly have mine. I’ll sign over my home, my money, my business. Anything you want, you can have. Just come home. Come home to your sister and it’s yours.”

He seemed struck by your words, astonished you could ever think so lowly of him.

“It has never been about the money! It is about what is mine. What should be mine that was given to her! Do you not see what father has done to me? He’s forsaken me even in death, casting me aside for what I am.”

“And what is that, Arthur?” you asked, voice livid as he once again tried to place the blame onto how he felt about you.

He shook his head, fists balling by his sides as the gentle glint of tears began to poll in his eyes. “You know what I am, you made me this way.”

“I did nothing of the sort and you know that. You chose this path as much as I. Do not dare to push all of the blame onto me. Leave if it is what you wish but know you can only push us away for so long. We are your family, like it or not.”

“I have no family.”

With that, he was gone. His coat twirled behind him as he pushed his hat down onto his head, making his way out onto the snowy streets.

You did not have it in you to chase after him again this time, not when you knew you would only be met with the same anger as before.

He said he’d never hate you but you were beginning to think that was a lie. If he well and truly thought you to blame he was an ignorant fool but it meant that he no longer loved you as he once did.

If just the sight of you made his blood boil so much then there was only one conclusion: he did hate you. And that alone broke your heart.

𓆩♡𓆪

Meriwether Compeyson was the name of the gentleman that had approached Amelia at the reception. Apparently, he was looking to invest in the brewery.

There was something off-putting about him but you couldn’t quite place your finger on what. Whether he had ulterior motives or if he simply wanted to make a business investment you were unsure.

What you knew for certain, however, was that you had never heard of him before. The man had popped up as if out of nowhere, breaking into Amelia’s life with stories and tales about himself that seemed almost too well thought out.

No matter how hard you search you could not find anything on the man and, although you had the means to research his background, you did not want to pry without Amelia’s say so and you knew she would never condone such a thing.

On the day of the fair, when Amelia invited you along with her and her closest friend, Honoria Barbary, you came to learn that Mr Compeyson was a friend of Miss Barbary’s suitor, Captain Hawdon.

You knew of Hawdon, although you had not met him before. You knew Honoria, however, and you knew from the way she looked at him alone that he was a good man.

The five of you had walked around the fair, chatting about this and that and, as you got to know Compeyson, he seemed like a decent man. Still, however, there was something about the way he spoke that had you wondering.

“Forgive me if I am too forward but are you perhaps a suitor to Miss Havisham?” he asked with a smile, acting as though he were simply getting to know you.

“No, no I am simply a friend. Amelia is like a sister to me.”

He hummed, looking as though he were storing the information safely in his mind.

𓆩♡𓆪

With business taking you out of London, it was a while before you saw Arthur or Amelia again.

By the time you returned Mr Compeyson had proven to have stuck around. Not only was he now regularly seeing Amelia but Arthur too. It seemed he had managed to worm his way into their lives after all.

Part of you had hoped that meant the two of them had reconciled and put their spat behind them but that hope was diminished when Amelia told you about how Arthur had barged in the night before. How he was drunk and beside himself, spewing out nasty words left and right until Mr Compeyson had to practically throw him out of his own home.

And that was how you found yourself once again banging on that old wooden door outside of Arthur’s lodgings.

The moment Amelia told you of what happened you found yourself on your way back to him. You knew something was wrong because he would never have behaved in such a way if it were not.

“What do you want?” his voice was cynical, although still hurt in its foundation.

“I heard about what you did last night, Arthur.”

He laughed, walking inside without so much of a protest against you following. So you did, shutting the door behind you.

“So you’re here to give me a talking to as well I presume?”

You shook your head, brows knitting. “No. I just want you to talk to me. Please, tell me what is wrong.”

“You know what is wrong,” he spat as he sat down at the end of his bed, lifting a glass of cheap brandy to his lips.

Before you knew what you were doing you were pulling the glass out of his hand to stop him from drowning himself in liquor. This was a conversation you wanted to have while he was sober. Or at least as sober as he could be.

“I know there is more to it. You would have never spoken to Amelia that way otherwise. Last I heard the two of you had made up, what happened?”

His eyes were like daggers piercing through you. Words like venom as he sneered, “It is of no concern to you.”

“No concern to me? You do not truly believe that, do you? I care about you, Arthur and I hate to see you this way.”

He stood back up, pointing a damning finger at you even though he could not bare to look you in the eye. “Don’t pretend you care about me, just give me the lecture and leave.”

You impulsively jerked forward and pulled him to you, sick of listening to him ignore everything you had to say every single time you opened your mouth to speak.

He was surprised but he did not try to move out of your arms. If it had not been for the sharp pain he felt in his back as your hands found their place there he would he leaned into your embrace. Instead, he only winced at your touch.

You stepped back, placing your hands on either side of him as you lowered your head, trying to make him meet your eyes. His head only hung lower, his gaze fixed on the ground.

He let you turn him around and didn’t complain when you began to carefully lift his shirt, your eyes widening at the long, crimson lashes across his pale back.

“Who did this to you?” you slowly dragged your finger across his skin, gently following along underneath one of the wounds, “Does it have anything to do with what happened last night?”

He stepped away, pulling his shirt back down as he moved to sit at the end of his bed again. When his voice finally came out it was in a stutter. “It… It does not matter.”

With a heavy sigh, you sat down beside him. “How did we end up like this, Arthur? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

He unconsciously leaned closer to you, craving your touch after being in your arms again after so long. He’d missed you more than he’d been letting on. He missed having you around, having you close.

“I won’t pry if you do not want to tell me but if someone is hurting you, Arthur, I need to know. When you are hurt, I am hurt. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

“I… I messed up, y/n. Really messed up. I- I-”

His words caught in his throat, unwilling to surface. Whatever he was going through, he did not want you to know. So, you wouldn’t pry. His business was his own and, if he truly felt as though he were in danger, he would have told you.

You reached over, pulling his hand into your lap as you gently rubbed your thumb across the back of it. “I’m here, Arthur. I know what I said before but I didn’t mean it. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Never again.”

His lips curled up into a sad smile and, finally, he turned his eyes to you again. You leaned forward, letting instinct take over as you pressed your lips to his.

It had been so long since you’d last felt their tender touch. So long since you’d last known such a warmth.

“I love you, Arthur. I always will,” you whispered against his lips, smiling against them as you kissed him again, “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He hummed against you, finally letting you in after all this time you’d spent apart.

You were careful with him, gentle so as not to hurt his still raw wounds. You cupped his face, one hand moving to twist your fingers into his curly hair.

He leaned into you, pushing you down onto the bed as he climbed over your body, his lips never once leaving yours.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I have to go,” you spoke as your fingers absentmindedly played with Arthur’s hair, running your other hand up and down his arm as he rested against your bare chest.

He only moved closer, if that were even possible, holding onto you tighter to prevent you from leaving. “Stay just a little while longer? I don’t want you to go.”

You pushed his curls back and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Believe me, I wish I could but I have business to attend to. Will you be safe here, Arthur? Tell me and, if you say no, I’ll personally see to it that you are moved somewhere else.”

“I’ll be alright, I just wish you didn’t have to go.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you smiled at him, pressing one last kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed in search of your clothes.

𓆩♡𓆪

To your dismay, it had been a couple of days since you’d last seen Arthur. You’d tried to find the time to see him but whenever you thought you were finally done with work something else popped up.

It was your own fault, moving things around and filling out all the paperwork needed to become a company shareholder in the Havisham brewery had been a longer task than you had anticipated.

Your father had never taken the dive himself, not wanting to step on his old friend’s toes. As much as your father and Mr Havisham had enjoyed discussing business deals together, neither one wished to be bound by business over friendship.

With Amelia taking charge, however, you felt it best to support her however you could. By purchasing a share in the brewery you would be able to provide more advice to her about the company.

Not to mention, many of the elder men in the company were still unsure of her leadership so becoming a shareholder yourself also meant you could support her and her decisions more officially to help convince the other shareholders that she was more than fit for the job.

You had no doubt that she would prove herself to them on her own but you knew your encouragement and support could help lift the burden on her shoulders at least a little. You would have done the same for Arthur had it been him in her shoes too.

With work taking up so much of your time you hadn’t found it too unusual that the next time you saw Arthur was at a meeting for the Havisham brewery.

He too had shown up to give his support to Amelia, despite whatever disagreements were between them. You doubted he had apologised for how he behaved the last time he saw her but regardless she seemed more than thankful to have him there.

She just wanted her beloved little brother back, after all.

When Arthur walked into the room, taking his place beside his sister, his eyes fell onto you. At first, he seemed surprised to see you but then an ever so faint smile graced his lips.

You smiled back, of course, happy to see him again after your rushed parting the last time you’d spoken.

It hadn’t been quite what you had hoped, finally making up after so long only to leave him once again, but now that work was finally about to start calming down again you hoped to be able to see him more often.

As you’d predicted, Amelia swept the board off their feet, swaying them all into agreement with her proposed changes. The meeting was over not too long after it began and, finally, you were able to speak with Arthur.

“You were brilliant, Amelia. I knew you had it in you.”

Amelia placed her hand on your arm with a gentle smile. “If I’m being completely honest I was worried they were going to reject my proposals.”

“Don’t be silly, Amelia. You had an answer to their every question, you were always a step ahead.” Arthur too agreed, complimenting his sister on her success.

When another gentleman walked over, garnering Amelia’s full attention, you moved closer to Arthur.

“I’ll come find you later,” you whispered into his ear before turning back to Amelia, bidding each of them farewell on your way out.

You walked down the street with a skip in your step, pulling out the gift you had purchased for Arthur the day prior.

It was a silly thing really, just a small token of your affection but he had been through a lot these past few months and you wanted him to have a reminder with him at all times. A reminder that he was loved — that he mattered to someone — because he had made it very clear how alone he had been feeling since his father passed away.

It had grown dark out when you went out in search of him, heading to his lodgings. You hoped to spend the night there if you could. To hold him again as you slept after giving him the gift you had bought.

When you arrived at the pub, however, you found him swaying from side to side ever so slightly as he drank the last of his latest drink, slamming it down on the table before ordering another.

Something had happened in the time since you’d left him earlier that day, something that had him resorting to using liquor to ease his spirits again.

You made your way over to him quickly, calling out to the bartender to halt that last order as you pulled Arthur up out of his chair.

He groaned and complained but followed your gentle tug nonetheless, allowing you to walk him out of the pub onto the quiet street.

“Arthur, what is wrong? Why are you drinking?”

He stumbled slightly as he moved away from you, his words fumbling as they came out of his mouth. “Oh, so I can’t sit and have a quiet drink anymore?”

“This is more than a quiet drink, you can barely stand,” you sighed, manoeuvring to keep him steady.

You didn’t want to get into an argument with him, especially not out on the street so late at night.

“I thought you’d left again, you know? Came back, had your fill and left me behind all over again.”

“That’s not fair, Arthur. You know I had work. I wanted to come and see you. My heart ached that I couldn’t,” you admitted as you tugged him into a nearby ally.

“You did?”

His puppy eyes were boring into yours, searching for the truth in your features. Any trace of the bitterness he once felt was gone, everything about his features now turning soft as he looked at you.

He used to be like this when you were children, always so kind and sweet. One of the most caring people you had ever known to walk the earth. It was only as he grew older, his ears sharpening and picking up on the way people spoke about him and his cook of a mother, that he began to grow cold.

“More than anything,” you reassured him, your tone somehow more telling than the words you spoke.

He smiled and leaned into you. His face came to rest against your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you to hold you close. “Don’t go again, please. I need you.”

You hugged him back, being weary of the wounds on his back as you did so. “I’m not going anywhere.”

This was the Arthur you had fallen in love with, his sweetness unmatched as he clung to you.

The cold air nipped at your ears and you could feel the frost already settling into Arthur’s cheek when you held it in your hand. “Let’s go inside, we’ll catch a chill if we stay out here any longer.”

He stopped you as you went to walk away, his fingers clinging tightly to your coat. “We can’t go inside… I- I have a friend staying in my room.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering who he could mean and why they would need to stay there. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was hiding something from you but you didn’t have it in you to ask him at that moment.

All you wanted was to get him home and warm him up, let the alcohol leave his system so that you could talk with him properly.

𓆩♡𓆪

“A-Are you sure it’s okay I stay here tonight?” he asked as you began to pull his coat off him, hanging it up by the door.

Your maid was already making her way to you, waiting for any instruction you were to give her.

“Emma, run a hot bath for Mr Havisham.”

“Yes, Sir. Shall I prepare the guest room as well?”

Without even turning to Arthur, you shook your head. “That won’t be necessary. Just run the bath and retire for the night.”

Emma nodded with a smile, glancing between you and Arthur before hurrying off to do as you asked.

By the time she was out of the room, Arthur was grabbing onto you yet again, his eyes wide with panic.

“Are you mad? Won’t she know I have stayed here? Won’t she talk of this?”

You smiled softly, reassuring Arthur that he had nothing to worry about. “Emma won’t tell a soul, Arthur. I can assure you of that. She is… of like minds, shall I say. Besides, she has seen us together once before.”

“She has?” his eyes widened further, his chest contracting, suffocating his breaths.

“Yes,” you rested a comforting hand on his shoulder to soothe him, “She spotted us out in the gardens once years ago. You can trust her, Arthur.”

You could see the cogs turning in his head and finally, he realised what you had been getting at. “Of like minds? She prefers the company of women?”

All you did was nod, smiling at him as you took his hand and began to gently lead him through the house.

It had been a while since he’d been in your home, far too long. He hadn’t realised quite how much he’d missed it until now.

As you made your way upstairs he began to think back on your childhood. He remembered the two of you and Amelia running through these very halls, giggling and yelling as you played.

Your parents had told the three of you off for being so loud countless times yet you knew a part of them was always happy to see you indulging in the imagination of childhood.

Amelia had grown out of it first, deciding she was to be a lady before long so she could no longer play silly games with little boys. Still, that didn’t stop her from making you host tea parties with her and your mothers on occasion.

The three of you were always so happy back then. So naïve to the struggles of life.

Everything seemed so different now. His father was gone, his mother too, and although all he had left was you and Amelia he still found himself pushing the two of you away.

Not any more. At least, he wouldn’t push you away again. No, he needed you in his life again. He needed you because he had no one else.

When you reached your bedroom you nudged Arthur toward the fireplace, letting him warm himself through while you searched through your drawers until you found two neatly folded nightshirts.

You rested them on the bed and made your way back over to Arthur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you tucked your head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

He swayed with you slightly, his hands moving to hold your arms as he eased into the embrace. You held him gently, keeping a small space between your chest and his back. You didn’t want to remind him of his wounds or whoever had given them to him but he leaned back into you softly, his eyes closing as he focused on your warmth.

“You can be yourself when you are here and you are always welcome, Arthur. I hope you know that.”

You pressed your lips to his neck and he hummed, “I’m sorry.”

You moved away to look at him, your expression turning tender as you listened to what he had to say.

“I’m sorry about everything. I shouldn’t have pushed you away… I shouldn’t have put all the blame on you. You never did anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” your thumb brushed against his cheek as you lifted his head to look at you, “Following your heart is never wrong, Arthur, whether others approve of it or not.”

His lip curled up slightly on one side, a half smile playing on his lips.

“Come, your bath should be ready.”

As you suspected, the bath was run and Emma had retired to her quarters for the night, leaving the house empty save for you and Arthur.

He slumped down into the tub letting the fresh water engulf him, soothing him as you reached for the soap.

You sat on a stool beside the bath, pulling Arthur’s arm out of the water to run the bar of soap along it. When you tapped the back of his shoulder he leaned forward, allowing you to rub the bar across the top of his back.

Your eyes ran across the marks that painted his back. They were starting to heal but they still looked painful. The sight alone angered you, as did the thought of anyone harming Arthur in such a way again.

“Will you not tell me who did this to you?”

He shook his head, his voice quiet as you pressed a kiss to his back. “I can’t…”

“Can’t or won’t?”

A heavy sigh fell from his lips. “I will tell you… I promise I will tell you everything, later.”

“I cannot help you if you won’t tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into,” you reminded as you raised the jug of water, wetting his hair.

“I know, I know. I just need a little more time.”

Your fingers ran delicately through his wet curls and he leaned into your touch as you began to massage his scalp. “For you, I have all the time in the world. Just know that I am always here for you, Arthur. Whether you need a place to stay, an ear to listen or just wish for my company. Whatever it is you need or desire, I am here.”

𓆩♡𓆪

You lied together all night. For a while, you talked, your limbs tangled together as you did what you could to ease whatever burdens he was carrying. When you finished talking, you slept by his side, holding him close until morning.

He only stayed for breakfast, thanking Emma with a smile when she saw the two of you to the door and pushed an extra bread roll into his hands, a snack for later.

“Oh, I almost forgot.”

Arthur turned back to you before Emma could open the door, his brows crossing as he watched you pull something from your coat pocket.

You held the gift out for him and he took it, smiling as he examined the fine fabric in his hands. “A neckerchief?”

“It’s not much but I’d like you to wear it.”

He didn’t move as you began to untie the neckerchief he was wearing, slipping your gift out of his hands to tie it for him. You held out the bottom, running your thumb over the embroidery at the bottom.

“Our initials?” he questioned as he tugged the fabric from your hands for a closer look.

“As I said, it’s not much but it’ll mean a piece of me is with you even when I am not. I meant every word I said, Arthur. I won’t ever leave you again.”

His lips curled, his teeth shining as he smiled so genuinely. “Thank you.”

Once again you were parting far too soon, seeing him out and he climbed into your carriage. He looked out at you as the wheels began to move, waving at you as he left.

“I hope it is not too bold of me to say, Sir but I am glad to see Mr Havisham again. You haven’t seemed this happy in far too long.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Emma. “I couldn’t agree more.”

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[stardancerluv]

Can the Past Save the Future?

Part One

Summary: The will has been read. Drinks flow. Twins reunite.

Warning/Notes: Drinking to access is bad. Don’t be like Arthur.

Note…I watched Dickensian a second time…I have to write a little Arthur. He deserved better…he deserved a chance.

This will be my first time seriously tackling X m!reader, please be nice. (Might give male reader & his twin a last name later on!) Like it? Let me know! Feedback is welcome along with ❤️s and so is sharing! Thank you for reading!

He drank. He drank to forget. He drank to feel.

Long ago, his father’s coldness toward him had stopped effecting him. But today, now hearing what he had left him in his will was a slap in the face. It was an insult, a farce.

All the wounds that had scared over years ago, were ripped open and they hurt anew. All the walls he had built around himself came crumbling down.

He took a table in the back, among the shadows.

“Arthur?”

“I didn’t realize we had gotten so familiar.” Squinting, he looked up at the barmaid. He exhaled. “Brandy and leave the bottle.”

She nodded and turning left.

He pulled off his hat and placed it beside him.

******

When the door jangled open, it was just another guy ambling in. Their hat brim sat low covering most of their face but you already knew it wasn’t your twin. Idly, you crossed and recrossed your arms as you sat there. Under the table no one see how your nervously tapped your foot. Sighing, you glanced down and examined for the millionth time your gloves.

You finally couldn’t wait any longer and taking the knife you began to smother the crusty bread with some butter. Since he had taken the late train, you had decided to forgo dinner and have it at the pub with him. Though now it appeared that your twin’s train was running late.

This time when the door opened you didn’t even bother to glance up. You put the knife and slice down. You pressed your lips together before taking only a second sip at the warmed cider you had ordered a mug of. It was far stronger then you had anticipated and tickled your nose, causing you shift around in your seat.

“Oh poppet, you couldn’t wait just a touch longer for me?” His dark eyebrow were arched in a playful disapproval.

Your heart immediately swelled at the sound of his warm, raspy voice. You scooted out and then practically you leapt at him. “Oh, pupper, I am so happy you are home!” You squeezed him tight.

Once in the booth, he motioned and the barmaid came over. “I’ll have whatever she ordered.”

You leaned toward him happiness bubbling in you. “Always copying me?” You giggled behind a hand.

“Well, you always did have the better taste in the family.”

You giggled and beamed once again. “That is true.” You remarked smiling before taking another sip from the cider. But then he slid out of the booth. “What are you doing?” You looked up at him surprised and a touch confused.

“I figured, I better order something slightly different then you.” He smiled.

You grimaced and shook your head. “Oh you.”

*****

The bottle and glass clinked as the girl finally placed them in front of him.

He looked up at her, his jaw tight. “Did you really have to take his order before bringing me mine?”

She shrugged and walked away.

Muttering to himself, he tore open the bottle himself since she didn’t even do the decent thing and pour some into his glass. Closing his eyes at the wonderfully bitter taste, he drained his glass.

Then he chased it with a second and half way through the third something; actually someone caught his eye. He blinked. The guy who had stolen the barmaid’s attention now stole now his. He, he well, Arthur stumbled to find the right description. He watched as the man combed at his wild strands with his slender fingers as he leaned against the bar. He licked his bottom lip before biting down on it. His heart picked up speed.

No matter. He admonished himself over the little folly. Grabbing his glass, he finished what was left of the third pour. Placing his glass by the bottle with a very contented sigh on his lips, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He enjoyed the warmth, the amber liquid gave him.

******

“You seriously don’t have any more?” He couldn’t stop himself from making a face. “Give me a glass, I’ll buy a sniff off him.”

“He may not want to part with any of it. He’s the only one who usually buys it.”

“We’ll see.”

He held out his hand and he watched as worry creased the older, chubby man’s brow as he handed him the small glass. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll have the other brandy waiting.”

“What are you doing?” Your twin hissed.

He held a hand up. “Nothing to worry about poppet, I’ll be right back.”

Standing straighter and adjusting his scarf; he made his way over to the corner that only had a solitary candle.

As he grew closer seeing this stranger at complete ease did a number on him. His head was thrown back against the booth, his closed eyes and soft, slack lips. His clothes were soft as the hung from his frame. Something about his complete disregard for all that was around made him was very appealing.

“Excuse me,” He swallowed, watching how the candle light licked at the man’s throat. “I hear you bought the last bottle of their finest brandy.”

The man slowly drew his head down and opened his eyes. Chestnut curls fell, framing the strikingly young face for someone to enjoy brandy like that. A smile with a twist to it, made his stomach lurch in the best possible way, as the smile spread across the man’s face.

“Have you come over to compliment on my good taste?”

@jamiethebanished

[incorrect-frozentricks-n-friends]

Odin(furious because of another “mistake” on Loki’s part): YOU ARE NOTHING!!!!!

Loki(sarcastically): great… thanks… appreciate it. (Looks at Odin with a raised eyebrow and a smirk) How’s that narcissism coming along? Great? good? Good, great! (Smirks even wider as Odin’s mouth hangs open at “the audacity and disrespect”)

[queereldritch]

I....am writing a City of Bones/Dickensian xover ficlet.

I don't even go to either of these fandoms.

Yes this is purely because of Joseph Quinn and Jamie Campbell Bower. Almost. I admit, Arthur Havisham and his redemption arc potential has charmed me. Not to mention the whole homosexual in the 19th century part.

And Jamie as Jace is half-overgrown bird. So isekai'd Arthur, meet wanting-to-nest-but stubbornly-denying-it!Jace.

And obviously I will be finding a way to cram this into my ongoing stranger things WIP.

Wish me luck.

[incorrectatotcquotes]

*Lucie reads in the news that a nobleman has willingly gone to France in the middle of the Revolution*

Lucie: What an idiot.

*Lucie realises that it's Charles*

Lucie: Wait, that's MY idiot!

[frodothefair]

Fragrance's Christmas Dissociate into the TV List

I'm quite fond of Christmas movies, and Christmas in general, and I am currently rewatching a few favorites.

Dickensian - a BBC 10-episode miniseries that intertwines the stories of Dickens characters from multiple books, including A Christmas Carol, Bleak House, Great Expectations, Oliver Twist, and The Old Curiosity Shop. It turns Mr. Marley's demise in A Christmas Carol into a murder mystery and Inspector Bucket from Bleak House is on the case. It's basically fanfiction of the most wonderful kind. And it's the BBC. They can basically do no wrong.

The Man Who Invented Christmas - a movie about Charles Dickens writing A Christmas Carol. The situation that led to it, what inspired him, how he worked down to the wire... Based on true events, it features Dickens interacting with various characters from A Christmas Carol. They appear in his mind's eye and sit with him in his study, have full-on conversations with him, and even follow him around and call to him from outside his windows! I'm sure many a writer has often felt the same way. I, for one, very often have at least three hobbits following me around. Frodo and Marigold, for instance, are often in the back seat of my car doing very untoward things, and Sam's often bringing me tea and conversing with me about gardening, his adventures, and his relationship with Mr. Frodo.

A Christmas Carol 2009, with Jim Carrey - a standard retelling of the classic tale, but with a lot of flying over 19th century London. For some reason, it's my favorite of the many cinematic versions of the story.