#i saw it and almost had a heart attack oh my GOD it screamed arthur djsnks

[nextstopparis]

I cared about these people. I— I don’t understand. x

[ijustwant2write]

Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir​)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

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

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself. 

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

[ughhheragain]

Hi!! I just came across your blog and love it! Could I request something where you get hurt by a rivaling gang and Tommy freaks out?

stolen | t.s.

Business wasn’t going as great as usual lately and Thomas could feel himself slowly slipping on the edge of insanity. A rival gang was apparently intending to take over Birmingham which, until then, had always been Shelby’s territory and even if he would never admit it, the man was loosing confidence regarding his positions.

However, he had sworn himself that he would never put you in the confidence in fear to worry you even more that you already were, no matter how bad things could get. But, one thing he had apparently failed to remember was that the easiest way to get to a man’s head wasn’t to attack him directly - but instead, hurt his dearest ones.

And so, that’s what the irish rival gang meticulously planned to do. In fact, you had uknowingly been spied on all week, from the minute you left the house to go run some errands to the moment you came home after a night out at the Garrisson with some friends. They had even managed to do it without raising any suspicion among the coppers Tommy had hired to protect you in his absence.

They wanted every single little thing the Shelby’s owned but also, to have the pleasure to ruin the infamous Thomas Shelby’s reputation. It had been such a shame that his wedding had been shown in the medias because then, they knew exactly who to aim at in order to get to the man’s head.

One night, you had informed your husband that you wouldn’t be home given that Ada had invited you to join her and Lizzie at the pub for a girls night and he hadn’t said anything since he too, had a business meeting planned.

An hour later, you walked down the stairs under Tommy’s attentive gaze and walked up to him. "I’m going to be even more hated on that I already am with you walking around the town looking like that, doll," he complimented you jokingly, as he took one of your hand in order to make you spin to show off your dress to him. "Well, well. I’d better not keep you from going partying, hadn’t I?"

You smiled and tilted your head to the side as you slid your hand to the back of his head, "Don’t worry honey, you’ll meet me later and have me all to yourself then."

"Mmh, mmh," he mumbled, satisfied before you could go to kiss him softly.

You had now been dancing for more than two hours with your friends when you felt like it had been enough and that it was time to come home to Tommy.

"Alright girls, I think I’ve done my part, I’m exhausted," you shouted loud enough for Lizzie and Ada to hear, who were by then drunk and still eager to dance some more. Ignoring Ada’s complaints and attempts to make you stay a bit longer, you grabbed her by the waist and kissed her cheek before doing the same to Lizzie. "Keep an eye on her and make sure that she doesn’t bring anyone home along with her," you asked her lightly while glancing at your drunk sister-in-law who was dangerously eyeing a gentleman in the distance.

Giving one last encouraging smile to Lizzie, you turned on your heels and exited the loud pub. You figured that some fresh air wouldn’t hurt you given that you had been breathing cigar smoke all night long.

After a few minutes of walking in the cold and dark streets of Birmingham, you felt a presence behind you which you decided to brush off at first, blaming it on the alcohol you had consumed in not so reasonable quantities. But, time was passing by and the presence wouldn’t disappear. Worse, you could hear footsteps which confirmed that you were being followed. Your heart was now beating faster as you were trying your best to remain calm but also find a way to get home as soon and safely as possible.

Hurrying a bit, you threw and eye behind yourself. Mistake.

"Tss, tss. Your husband never told you to not walk the streets alone at night? Didn’t he tell you that someone might take you?" the voice took you off guard and made you jump slightly. Unfortunately, it also made you freeze which gave the man enough time to wrap his arms around you in full force and drag you down an alley, where a car was parked.

Next thing you knew, a cloth was wrapped around your head to cover your eyes and another around your mouth to keep you from screaming for help any longer, "Enough, enough, God I hate it when you women scream." That remark alone brought anger in you which hadn’t resurfaced in a long time but this wasn’t the main focus at the moment. "There. Now you’ll shut up."

You then felt the car start moving to an unknown location and hoped that by now, Tommy had been noticed of your disappearance.

Indeed, a man who had worked for Tommy in the past had seen you get dragged into the alley and thought that it would be best for his life to notice his former boss.

"Whisky?" The business man asked Tommy who was still reading a twelve pages long contract, "Mh, sure but that’ll be my last, I’ve got someone to come home too and I doubt she’ll be pleased-"

"Tommy! They took her," stormed in Arthur which made the man miss the glass by an inch and spill the liquid on some papers. Tommy didn’t think twice and immediately got up.

He walked out of the office in no time, making his way to his car but Arthur stopped him. "Tommy, wait!"

"What?" his brother snapped loudly as he turned to face him. "They saw her get dragged in a car but don’t know where they headed," Arthur tried to explain as clearly as possible as to not frighten his brother any more. Tommy looked straight in Arthur’s eyes, unable to form a coherent sentence. He clenched his jaw as to keep himself from lashing out on his innocent brother and took one deep breath. "Start from the beginning, would ya?"

Arthur then proceeded to repeat every information he had been told and made sure to not forget any. In the meantime, the men who took you had brought you to a basement which smelled like mold and humidity. You could hear them almost celebrating in advance but also preparing their actions once Tommy and his men would come to your rescue. "Do you know that Tommy will blow you brains out the second he comes in, right?"

Of course, you had to open your pretty mouth, you thought right after receiving a harsh smack on your cheek which did, bring some sense back in your brain at last. By the next hour, a dark red would surely paint this side of your face and take such an annoying amount of time to cover up.

You were ready to insult the man’s entire bloodline but got cut off by gunshots which made you scream in shock, since your eyes were covered and therefore prevented you from seeing anyone coming.

You didn’t know who had shot, who was now laying lifeless on the ground nor if whether it was good news for you or not. But, your worries faded away the second you felt two familiar hands holding the side of your face - which made you wince in pain - and a cigarette-scented breath you knew oh-so-very-well.

"Thank God you’re okay," Tommy hushed as he hurrily took the cloths out of your mouth and away from your eyes. "Tommy," you let out in relief.

"I got so fucking worried. I’m sorry you had to be-" excuses were flowing out of his mouth as quickly as they could, surely as a way to cope with everything he was feeling at that moment but you cut him, saying "I love you." This made him come back to his senses and soften up, "So do I," he whispered before leaning in to plant a kiss on your cold lips.

He stayed kneeling on the ground for another minute as he examined your face to see how badly the men had hurt you. "I should’ve tortured this son of a bitch," Tommy grunted as he glanced at the man he had just shot a few moments ago and whose blood was progressively painting the floor a dark red.

But, you grabbed his face with both hands to force him to look at you. His hands came to hold your waist tightly. "Babe, I’m okay now. You already shot him, the man’s dead and so are the others so let’s just leave, please? I don’t want to spend another minute in this shithole."

Tommy chuckled, exhausted but also amused to see that even after what had just happened to you, you still found a way to be whiny about it. "Alright, - he said as he tapped your hips before getting up -, let’s get you home and cleaned up."

"Yes, please."

okay so this was my first one-shot in a very first time.. i really hope that you guys liked it :/

[moral-turpitudes]

A Sister’s Intuition:

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

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

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

Word Count: 2,114

Characters: Shelby Family x Shelby!Sister Reader

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

Request by: Anon, you can find it here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that aye?” Thomas asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

[cutesilyo]

no place in the world (like manila) — an amephil fanfic

A few months after the outbreak of the Philippine-American War, Alfred falls in love with and is betrayed by a bright-eyed teenager with the prettiest smile on this side of the Orient in a single night. 

This is not a love story.

Also available on AO3.

—

"Sir, I don't think it's safe for you to leave the camp," Major-General MacArthur warned. "I don't know how, but the revolutionaries know your face. They could attack you!"

"Pshaw," Alfred snorted. "I'm a nation. What could they do that could take me down, huh?"

MacArthur's mustache bristled in displeasure. "Be that as it may sir, might I remind you that you only arrived in Manila a week ago? Knowing you, you'd just get lost and I'd have to put together a whole squad of troops just to hunt you down. You could get captured, Alfred. I don't know how to tell you just how badly that would bring down morale."

Alfred just wagged his fingers, a bright grin on his face. "Look, if I get captured, I'd bust out of whatever crappy holding place they'd put me in without barely breaking a sweat! And knowing our soldiers, that's just the stuff that would make a great story to tell at dinnertime. How's that for morale?"

The way that MacArthur simply stared at him blankly told Alfred that this was not a convincing argument.

"I hate it when you do that," he groaned, slumping back on his seat. The leather was hot with the heat of the tropical sun and it stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Oh, how badly he wanted to just finally get up and leave. "I'm just saying, I can't stay inside here forever just waiting for you to dictate our next move."

"It's part of our strategy—"

"And it's boring. I'm bored, Major-General. I might as well look around." Alfred's eyes glinted dangerously. "Besides, you'll capture the whole nation for me soon enough, won't you? No harm in wanting to see what we're winning once this war is over."

The silence lasted for a few seconds before the major-general sighed in defeat.

—

Private Patton R. Wilkes was assigned to “accompany” Alfred while he roamed around Manila, but he knew that MacArthur just wanted someone to make sure he would actually return to camp instead of getting lost or, God forbid, taking the next ship back to America. Though the both of them were dressed in civilian clothing, the private carried himself with a strict stiffness that just screamed hardened military man. If Alfred wanted any chance of escape, it looked like the private would be hard to shake off.

Alfred tried to stay optimistic about the trip anyway. He hadn't paid much attention to the city while he was on the way to the American camp, but he certainly expected it to have an air of exoticness. He was a bit disappointed not to see anything like the palaces of Japan or the distinctly oriental architecture of China. Instead, he found street signs written in Spanish, the excited chatter of fast-talking brown-skinned people, and the cacophony of guitars, church bells, and the sound of horse-drawn carriages trotting along the stoned roads. Walking around Manila was like looking at a funhouse mirror version of Mexico: more or less the same, but with just enough differences to make his head spin.

"Uh, you alright there, sir?" Patton asked.

"Was just thinking about a bad memory, is all," Alfred grimaced. He's sure that Alejandro would have his head once he returned to the continent. He's been pissing off a lot of Spanish-speaking nations recently, that's for sure. "Come to think of it, the Philippine Islands must have its own personification too, right?"

The private's face darkened. "He's a force to reckon with, sire. Haven't seen no hide nor hair of him myself, but some guys in the other squadron barely survived after fighting with the kid."

"A kid?" Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't know there were still nations out there who were that young. Then again, he was only a teenager himself, and he was even younger when he fought against Arthur as well. "I don't know how I feel about fighting a kid. Couldn't I just give him a lollipop or something and this could all just work itself out?"

He meant it as a joke, but Patton seemed to take it seriously and started furiously shaking his head. "Don't think you could even try negotiating with him sir, the kid's a savage. Hacked and slashed his way through the guys with some kind of golden knife, they said. We're lucky our medics are so darned fast, otherwise, we would've been down almost a dozen men from him alone."

Something in Alfred's resolve hardened at the thought of losing his soldiers to someone so brutal. He clapped the other man on the shoulder and said, "Don't you worry, Pat. We'll end this soon, and when we win, we'll make sure that nobody from these islands ever lays a hand on any of our own."

That seemed to comfort Patton somewhat, though he was still shaking with anger. "I'll give them a good walloping right by your side, sire."

"Now that's the kind of patriotic determination I wanna see!" Alfred crowed. He then immediately scrambled for his wallet and hurriedly gave the private a wad of bills. Some onlookers openly gawked at seeing the number of dollar bills in his hand. "Tell you what, why don't you buy some booze, head back to camp, and inspire your fellow soldiers, eh? God knows we need some fun around here."

"Um," Patton blinked, caught off-guard. "I don't know if Major-General MacArthur—"

"Tell Major-General MacArthur that I'm just trying to boost morale," Alfred winked. "Also, tell him I'll back by next morning!"

He didn't get to hear Patton's response as he took off running wildly in the opposite direction. He barely registered running past the stores, wet market, and the cathedral; he just wanted to be alone and independent, exploring this new land to his heart's content. The buildings were shorter and the roads were narrower here than in his own country, but Alfred was just so glad to finally be in a place filled with people just like he was used to.

Alfred collapsed on his knees, winded. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that he had apparently made it to one of Manila's many ports. Past the numerous small fishing boats and trading boats, he could see that the sun was already beginning to set. The sky was painted in a pretty combination of pinks and oranges in contrast to the ocean's blue, the stars already starting to twinkle faintly into appearance one by one. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the rocks seemed louder than everything else around him — a stark reminder that no matter where he went, there was always something bigger to discover.

He stood there for a moment, mesmerized when a loud grunt startled him out of his stupor.

He turned to find some kind of bull staring at him with its beady eyes, its long horns curving towards the back instead of to the front. It was pulling a wagon full of leafy vegetables that Alfred couldn't recognize, and the old man riding it looked startled to come across a foreigner.

"Hijo, padaan naman po," he said, with a strained smile.

"Oh, sorry, I don't know what you mean," Alfred tried, but the man just continued smiling at him. He was starting to think that maybe abandoning Patton, who wasn't fluent but at the very least conversational in Tagalog, was a bad idea.

Luckily, someone came to his rescue. A teenager with bright eyes approached him, an amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. He was dressed simply: unlike the suit and tie ensemble of the richer Filipinos he'd come across or the pale blue uniform of the Philippine Army, he wore a thin white top and trousers cut just above his ankles. The scabbard on his hip would have been concerning if Alfred didn't know just how many Filipinos carried knives in their daily lives. All in all, he looked just like any other street vendor, but the red handkerchief tied around his neck was vibrant enough to make him stand out. "You are American, yes?"

"Ah yeah," Alfred flushed, a bit flustered. The way the stranger leaned in was a little too close for comfort, but he looked harmless and at least he spoke English. "Can you help me? I think that man is talking to me, but I can't understand what he's saying."

The teenager grabbed his arm to pull him to the side. The old man tipped his straw hat in thanks, and the teenager smiled, saying: "Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito."

The two of them watched the wagon pass them by. They stood there in silence for a moment, and then Alfred blurted out, "I didn't know I was in the way, I swear."

"You did seem quite distracted." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other boy laugh. The both of them turned to each other at the same time, a small smile on each other's faces. "Not that I blame you. I am sure you have sunsets in America, but it is different here than in other countries. I think the colors are more vibrant, do you agree?"

"Certainly takes my breath away," he admitted. "I do have to ask, how come you speak English so well? I've only been in Manila for a few days but I don't think I've met another Filipino that's as good as you are."

The teenager only laughed again and held on to Alfred's arm tighter. As he looked up at him, his eyes and grin were equally bright with mirth; and despite himself, Alfred was a bit charmed. "Us Filipinos are not as stupid as you think, señorito. Now, you say you are a stranger to Manila, yes? Come with me, and let me show you around my city."

—

They ended up hailing a tranvia, a carriage made to carry a whole group of people instead of just a pair. Alfred found it small and quaint, making an internal note to build tram lines in the city once he was able. Yet the energy that the teenager had with him was larger than life. He had apparently noticed the other passengers giving Alfred a suspicious side-eye, and immediately launched into a round of jokes to dispel the tension. Though he barely understood the jokes due to them being told in a mix of Spanish and Tagalog, the way that the whole tranvia burst into loud laughter was enough to assure him that his companion was quite the comedic performer.

When they got off, the driver even thanked them for the entertainment and told them not to pay the fare anymore. Alfred let out an excited whoo! as the teenager did an exaggerated bow.

As the carriage rode off, Alfred turned to his new friend and exclaimed, "Wow! The way you handled that was amazing! I mean, I've been through worse than an awkward train ride, but you definitely saved my ass back there."

The teenager blushed slightly. "Think nothing of it. I would rather see my companions happy and comfortable in my care than anything else."

"Still, that thing you did was certainly a swell sight." Alfred breathed in the cold evening air and let it out with a contented sigh. He looked straight into the other boy's eyes as he said, "And it's really nice that you're going through all the trouble to be with me tonight too! Like, we don't even know each other's names but you just whisked me away like some kind of fairytale hero! That was really awesome of you, I have to say."

"You are a man of sweet words," the teenager said, with a smile that looked almost bittersweet. Then, as if he had completely forgotten about his melancholy, he grabbed Alfred's arm again and dragged him towards the next street corner. "But let us not waste time talking! Most of these shops close soon, and I would hate for us to miss them!"

Helpless, Alfred let himself be strung along.

Sadly, most of the shops they went past had already closed for the day. Still, the teenager cheerily talked his ear off about what wares they sold and the local gossip about the people who ran those stores — like Pepito, owner of the clay pottery store, who had apparently given away all his lotto winnings to the next city's blacksmith. The one time that they had actually been able to buy something was when they came across a small, brightly-colored cart that apparently sold the Filipino version of ice cream. Both the vendor — Mang Tomas, as he was introduced — and the teenager had chuckled when he brought out a wallet full of dollars, so the teenager had to reach into his own pocket to pay with a few coins. As they walked past yet another cathedral, Alfred caught his friend singing the hymns under his breath. When they reached the plaza, the teenager then asked the lady standing nearby — Aling Nena, he was told — to give him a jasmine garland, the scent of the white flowers so powerful that it immediately made Alfred sneeze on his friend's face when he put them around his neck. Yet instead of getting mad like he expected, the teenager had only laughed and told him he looked handsome.

No matter where they went or who they talked to, his friend always seemed to know everyone's names. Alfred had no idea how he had the time to possibly get so familiar with all the people around him, but he certainly understood the sentiment; he loved talking with all the Americans that he came across with too. Personally getting to know the people who made his nation always made him feel more connected with them in a way that war and politics never could.

And if the Philippine Islands was truly to be his someday, Alfred knew he wanted to treat them similarly. More than anything or anyone else though, nobody in the archipelago had intrigued him most than the young man beside him whose smile was brighter than any star.

Yet all his experience in small talk failed him tonight, and not for lack of trying. Every time he asked questions about his friend, he was always diverted away from the topic.

Which part of the city are you from? was met with a vague Do you ask the flower which vine it came from? You are better off simply enjoying the whole garden.

Where is your family? had been completely ignored as his friend said You must be hungry, yes? I know a place with the best empanadas this side of Binondo.

What is your name? earned him a cheeky wink and a teasing If your mind still ventures to inane questions like that, then I am not doing very well in completely impressing you.

How old are you? made the teenager burst out into loud, hearty laughter that lasted for more than a minute. Alfred didn't even bother to try asking anything else after that, choosing to focus on his empanadas and arroz a la valenciana for the rest of the meal.

Later, when they were served a bottle of gin to share along with a bowl of peanuts, his friend had the grace to apologize for his behavior.

"I truly am sorry," he said, but the playful grin on his face made it difficult to take his apology seriously. "I simply do not think that you knowing more about me is more important than us having a good time together."

"How am I supposed to find you again if I don't know who you are, huh?" Alfred couldn't stop himself from whining. He ignored the glass in front of him, taking a swig straight from the bottle and letting the alcohol burn down his throat. His friend watched him in bemusement. "This has been the best night of my life in a long time. And if this is the last time we see each other, I don't think I'm going to forgive myself if I don't push you into giving me a hint."

This time, it was his friend's turn to take a drink: he filled his glass half-full and downed it all in one go. "You are certainly bold, señorito, I will give you that. A good friend of mine warned me about how loud and annoying Americans were, but it seems he neglected to tell me about how forward you all were as well."

Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes; of course, he would get deflected yet again. "Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more about your friend."

The teenager looked surprised. "You wish to know more about a man that insulted you?"

"If this is the closest I get to you telling me more about yourself, I'll take it," he shrugged. "Besides, I'd love to know how this friend of yours thinks. Americans are the greatest people in the world! He must be stupid if he doesn't know that."

The other boy laughed. "Of course you would say that, you biased brute. And I will have you know that my friend was quite smart, actually. One of the smartest men I have ever known."

Alfred felt like he wouldn't like the answer, but he asked anyway: "Was?"

All traces of laughter from his friend's face faded away into a hollow smile. "Killed by firing squad a few years ago."

Silently, Alfred poured gin into both of their glasses. They drank in solemn solidarity.

"My sincere condolences," said Alfred, and he meant it: he had lost too many friends himself over the centuries. "And I'm sorry I called him stupid."

His friend waved it off. "No worries. Pepe was incredibly intelligent, but he definitely had his fair share of stupid moments — you wouldn't believe how many times that man fell in love over the course of his short lifetime. Still, I miss him terribly and I wish he was still around. God only knows what he would have thought about everything happening at present."

"Oh, I know the feeling." Despite him dying decades prior, Alfred still longed for George Washington's steadfast guidance sometimes. He reached, a bit messily, for another drink. "It's uncanny, yeah? Some people just have this weird ability to analyze the present and predict the future. I certainly don't know how they do anything like it, really. I kind of just talk big and hope for the best."

"Funny that you talk about the future," the teenager chuckled. "Somehow, my friend even managed to predict that you would come here, Alfred. I did not believe him at the time, of course, but here you are."

"Here I am," Alfred repeated faintly. "Hold on, how did you know my—"

"Why were you all alone in my city, señorito?" His friend interrupted, looking up at him through his eyelashes. He leaned closer, close enough for the skin of their arms to touch, and Alfred suddenly forgot about all his worries. "I was very surprised to see you on your own, looking every bit like a lost little lamb. You are very lucky that I found you."

"Lucky indeed," he murmured, adjusting the collar of his shirt. It felt like the temperature in the room had risen by a dozen degrees. "Just wanted to explore, is all. MacArthur told me we had to stay low for a few more weeks, I got bored, and he let me out."

Those bright eyes were practically glittering as the teenager looked up at him, his fingers slowly tracing up his arm. "And you were alone? I always thought American soldiers traveled in pairs, but perhaps I was mistaken."

"No! No, you're right, you're definitely right," Alfred stammered out. He was sure his face was completely red by now. "I was with Private Wilkes earlier, but we, ah, got separated. He must be on the way back to Bulacan by now."

"How unfortunate," the other practically purred, clearly delighted. "Say, tell me, how did this Wilkes look like? Because I am sure that he does not look as handsome as you do."

That damned smile, now coy instead of kind and sweet, was tantalizingly close. If only he had the courage to lean down—

Alfred, trying desperately to distract himself, grabbed the bottle again and took a long swig.

There were about a million promises that threatened to spill from Alfred's lips, each one more outrageous than the other: Come with me. Stay with me. I'll keep you safe. I'll love you. Yet at the moment, he found himself tongue-tied. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the atmosphere or the way the young boy across the table had so effortlessly allured him, but he felt like he was about to go insane. He barely registered the both of them standing up to leave, didn't question why they didn't need to pay at the restaurant, paid no heed to what his friend had whispered to the men standing guard by the door. His mind was in a muddy haze, and all he could focus on was the fact that his friend was holding his hand as he was led into the dark streets.

Dimly, Alfred thought that however striking he looked by the setting sun, he looked much more ethereal bathed in moonlight.

He must have said this aloud because the teenager laughed.

"You are a man of sweet words," he said, and there's that oddly bittersweet smile again. "And I wish we could have met in better circumstances."

"What's wrong with the way we met today? I had fun," Alfred argued. He swayed slightly on his feet, and his friend held on to him to keep him from falling. "Didn't you have fun?"

"You forget we are at war, señorito. And you forget that you are seeking to control me and my people, not find a lover." Despite the harsh words, the way his friend said this was soft and sad. Almost like he was somehow hurt. "It does not matter what we feel today if we are bound to fight each other tomorrow. Should you not know this by now?"

They walked together in silence, each supporting the other. Slowly, Alfred's alcohol-induced dizziness began to subside. It was replaced by a growing emptiness in his chest — and a heavy, heavy realization.

"You knew I was America this entire time." When his friend deigned to respond, he continued. "Then, why...?"

At this, the teenager laughed — broken and wistful and desperate, all at once. "I do not know myself. I was ready to attack you, but for some reason, the look in your eyes as you watched the sunset stopped me. I thought, if you could look at my country with such amazement, then you could see that this war is unnecessary. That if you could know my land and my people the way I knew them, full of vibrancy and color and light, then you could realize that they did not deserve to die.

"Yet as the night went on I began to realize my efforts were fruitless. It was not them you were looking at anymore, but me." Here, his friend faced him; Alfred barely catching a glimpse of his wet eyes before the teenager looked away. "Believe me, I would love to spend another night like this with you. But you have your responsibilities and so do I."

"Fruitless," Alfred repeated hollowly. The cold night wind was in stark contrast to the hot rage he felt bubbling inside him. He forcefully wrenched himself away from his friend, yelling: "You made me tell you classified information!"

In seconds, he watched the teenager's face go from shock to hurt to an angry glare.

"Do you not understand how badly I need to win this war? My people did not give their lives to free me from Spain just so you could swoop in and take over! So forgive me, señorito," his friend spat mockingly, "for trying to find whatever advantages my poor nation can get against such an imperialistic nation like you!"

"And do you not understand what we're trying to do here?" Alfred shouted. "We are fighting this war to save you! Don't you see that your country is a mess? That you're underdeveloped, uneducated, and unfit for self-rule? I was the hero who helped save your people from Spain, jackass, and—"

"—and you promised to give us independence, and yet all your countrymen seem to do is kill." The teenager finished, both his eyes and the hilt of his knife glinting golden under the moonlight. "Is that what freedom means to you, America? I beg to differ."

As Alfred stepped away from him in furious, furious betrayal, all he could think about was that the other boy looked so small.

"I thought of you as my friend," he said.

"And I thought of you as my liberator," the teenager said coolly. "I see we were both wrong."

A harsh whinny interrupted them both. Alfred turned to find Patton riding a chestnut brown horse, his face red from exhaustion but seemingly unharmed. The private stopped in front of him, dismounting without grace on the pavement. His face was red from exhaustion and his clothes looked considerably ruffled, but otherwise, he looked unharmed.

"It ain't my position to say this sire, but don't you dare ever try to run away from me like that again," Patton panted, giving a quick side-eye to the other teenager before dismissing him. "We best hurry now, because those two won't be happy about their stolen horse."

Just as he was about to ask who those two were, a pair of Filipinos with muskets turned the corner and ran towards them. He vaguely recognized them as the same two men who were standing guard at the restaurant. They shouted loudly, a mix of Tagalog and Spanish expletives that Alfred could barely recognize, and a phrase distinct enough that he felt like it was something significant: amang bayan.

Patton evidently recognized the words. He looked at him in a wide-eyed panic, saying, "Sire, we need to leave—"

And as quick as lightning, Patton fell to the ground with a sickening crack. Caught completely off-guard and his arms restrained, he was helpless against the teenager who had a knife at his throat: a knife that, as Alfred began to realize with a horrified lurch of his stomach, was engraved with golden flowers and the insignia of an eight-rayed sun.

"You must be Private Wilkes," the Philippines smiled. "I do hope you are enjoying my country."

"Get off him or else!" Alfred screamed, the combined events of the night making him feel like he was about to reach his breaking point. He reached for the pistol he kept hidden on his belt and took aim, hoping to God that the other nation wouldn't force him to shoot. Even after everything, he didn't feel like he had the nerve to hurt Philippines after the hours they spent together; maybe some other day, but not tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the two men had caught up to them. They angled their muskets at him from a distance. The horse, which Alfred had been planning to use for escape, had already taken off running in the commotion.

Patton stared up at him with fear in his eyes, a bleeding gash on his forehead, and Alfred's hands began to shake.

Above all else, Philippines was still smiling: eyes bright, amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. Slowly, he stood to approach him.

Like a switch had been flicked, his features turned soft and kind again — more like the boy that Alfred had met earlier, the boy who had dragged him around the streets of Manila with lighthearted laughter, the boy whose smile was brighter than any star. All Alfred could do was stand there, mesmerized once again, as his hand was gently pried away from the gun.

"Alfred," Philippines said this quietly, almost like he was invoking a prayer. He motioned the men to stand down. "I do not wish to fight."

"I don't want to either," Alfred admitted. Maybe there was hope... "C'mon, we can talk this through, right? Look, we haven't had a battle in months. It should be really easy to negotiate, yeah? I'll set up a meeting with your generals and mine, we'll have a civil discussion with no weapons allowed, and we'll reach a compromise."

The other nation was leaning in, and this time, Alfred took his chance. He held Philippines' cheek in his hands and they kissed, soft and quick and chaste.

"Of course," Alfred said, as he pulled away. "I would need your complete surrender—"

He was swiftly kneed in the stomach, disarmed, and shot.

"Alfred, I do not wish to fight," Philippines said, as he watched Alfred collapse to the ground. "But I have to. I hope you understand."

He vaguely registered Patton reaching out to him as his eyes closed and the blood pooled around him, but all he could focus on was watching the other nation walk away into the darkness.

—

When Alfred came to, he was already back at camp. Without thinking, he immediately trudged to the general's war office.

"Good morning, Major-General MacArthur," he smiled, bright and cheery. "Gather the troops. I want to destroy Manila immediately."

—

Notes:

This is set in October 1899, during those months when there were no battles or skirmishes between the two armies. On the first day of November, the Americans launched a major attack on the Filipinos. This attack happened in San Fabian, Pangasinan, not in Manila, but let's forget about that.

Major-General MacArthur is, of course, Arthur MacArthur Jr., who was a major military figure during the Philippine-American War. I also claim artistic license in hinting that the American camp was in Bulacan because it probably wasn't.

Alfred's comments about Manila looking like Mexico are based on a comment by former president Manuel L. Quezon when he visited Mexico back in 1937: "Everything was the same." He meant that very, very affectionately.

Here's a nifty map of modern Manila. Alfred and Patton start out in Quiapo, which is basically the heart of downtown Manila. Alfred runs all the way to Muelle del Rey, which, coincidentally, happens to be the same place where the Jones Bridge stands today. Alfred and Phili take the tranvia to Binondo, Manila's business district and home to the world's oldest Chinatown.

The names of the store owners and vendors that Phili talks about are references to assorted media in Philippine pop culture. Pepito is a reference to Pepito Manaloto, a long-time comedy show about a man who won the lotto. Mang Tomas (Mang being an informal way to refer to a male adult older than you) is the name of a popular brand of gravy. Aling Nena (Aling being an informal way to refer to a female adult older than you) is a reference to the song Tindahan ni Aling Nena, about a boy who falls in love with a storeowner's daughter.

The garland of white jasmines that Phili puts around Alfred's neck are supposed to be sampaguitas, our national flower. They're usually sold near churches and are given as a sign of respect.

I have no idea if there are actually empanadas and valenciana sold somewhere in Binondo, but let's jot that down to artistic license. But these are very much Filipino foods that were adapted from Spanish foods, which is why Phili brings it up when Alfred asks about his family.

The old friend that Phili keeps talking about is Jose Rizal, our national hero. He is primarily known for being a great writer, whose novels inspired the Philippine War for Independence, and for being killed for it. He is also known for being having a long list of lovers, many of them not even Filipino. Lesser known is the fact that he visited America, hated it, went on a train ride with an American, and hated it. He wrote a whole diary entry about how much he didn't like America and Americans. He had also predicted that out of all the world powers, it would be America who would probably take an interest in conquering the Philippines when Spain was out of the picture. Go figure. Rizal was also affectionately known by his nickname, Pepe.

I imagine Phili to be particularly proficient in arnis, which is also known as kali or eskrima. It's a kind of Filipino martial art, most easily recognizable as that one martial art where everyone is dual-wielding a pair of sticks. The sticks are actually for training. Traditionally, arnis is fought by dual-wielding knives or swords, and it's meant to be quick and efficient in defending, attacking, disarming, and killing. Phili's fictional ornately designed knife is inspired by this very real ornately designed knife. The detail of the eight-rayed sun is a reference to the eight-rayed sun in the Philippine flag.

Lastly (phew!), some Tagalog to English translations!

Hijo, padaan naman po - Young boy, kindly let me pass Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito - Sorry, grandfather*! He's not from around here. Lolo literally means grandfather but is a general way to refer to any elderly man regardless of any actual blood relation. Amang bayan - Fatherland

[otomehoes]

S/O who can fence — Leonardo, Comte, Napoleon, Arthur and Jean

pairings: reader x comte, leonardo x reader, napoleon x reader, arthur x reader and jean x reader

warnings: use of weapons, mentions of nsfw [napoleon’s part], mentions of violence [jean],

A/N: rn I feel ✨blessed✨ with this request ahdhdh, also I had to study a little bit about fence things and movements

❥ Leonardo Da Vinci

actually he didn’t know that you fences until he saw you one day sneaking out to the practice room where napoleon and jean used to fence

his curiosity is bout to kill him so he follows you to see what you are up to

but when he sees you with napoleon fencing so fiercely but at the same time so elegantly

oh god he can’t stop staring at you

when you notice him you can’t help but feel shy

HES BOMBARDING YOU WITH QUESTIONS

also proud really really proud

you always liked april because of its fresh days. also because you could go to fence without getting worried about the weather. it was a secret that you wanted to keep for yourself. not because you felt embarrassed or anything, but fencing was something that always made you feel confident, it was only you and your fast movements towards your opponent .

however that day it was different. you didn’t know that your beautiful and curious boyfriend leonardo was following you. it was normal for you to disappear a few hours once a week. he was walking when he saw you running towards the practice room where sometimes napoleon or jean went to practice fencing. with light steps Leonardo followed you like a shadow.

his eyes went wide when he saw you. napoleon was fencing with someone, he couldn’t see who it was, until he saw through the fencing mask a long and silky (h/c) hair. and then he knew who was napoleon opponent. but what took his breathing was how fast and how elegant was your movements, the way you moved and how you thrusted your attacks toward the former french emperor threatening and pushing him towards the edge, made him so proud that he couldn’t keep hiding anymore and revealing himself to the both of you.

you saw a shadow moving behind you, you took a glance to see who it was, surprised you saw how leonardo was standing at the door looking at you with sparking eyes. you regretted your actions when you saw the tip of his foil pointing at you. with a sigh you dropped your fencing weapon, showing your defeat.

you heard a few steps coming from behind, turning you saw leonardo smiling at you “cara mia, you should have told me you knew fencing, next time I’ll be more careful to not make you mad” he said while you punched slightly at his arm trying to cover the hard blush you had. leonardo only knew that his beautiful girlfriend was a really interesting woman who always managed to surprise him even more.

❥ Comte de Saint-Germain

he knew it

but he respected your privacy

he didn’t told you, but the reason that he made the fencing room more big and with new equipmentit was because of you

sometimes he went to see you, but secretly

when you told him he did as he never knew

pikachu meme face

his respect for you will only grew to a 5000%

“mademoiselle you’re really amazing, it the first time that I find someone who can keep up with me” jean’s eyes were full of admiration while he praised you. with a blush you thanked him, at first it was hard to convince jean to practice some fencing with you, he thought that he would end up hurting you, but you assured him that you would be alright.

what the both of you didn’t know was how a pair of caramel eyes observed all your movements. with a smile comte turned back to his office knowing that in a few minutes you’ll be there with him. his heart was beating so fast that he couldn’t even think properly, your elegants moves, the way you dodged all the attacks that jean sent to you was something breathtaking. his love for you only grew more and more. he knew he did right falling in love with you, not only your heart was strong but your body too, and the fierce way you attacked jean proved how much he admired his beautiful girlfriend.

running towards comte’s room you arrived at the entrance of the door. you didn’t see how much time passed since you started to practice with jean. your fencing skills was a secret that you wanted to keep to yourself, and the only person who knew about that was jean and napoleon, the first one whom you often staying long hours practicing.

carefully you knocked his door to proceed with opening it , you saw comte looking at some papers with a frown, probably more letter from leonardo’s family. sometimes you felt bad for the renaissance man and for comte too, who had to write or burn another pile of letters.

“Abel, you should take a break, come here with me” you said while walking towards the sofa. his eyes meet yours and with a smile he went towards you sitting next to you with an elegance that could steal anyone’s breathe.

“also... sorry for being so late” you said looking at him, his eyes inspected yours, looking for an explanation. “well, I’ve been wanting to tell you this from a long time ago, but I never found the right moment” taking a deep breath you prepared yourself “once or twice a week I go with jean or napoleon to practice some fencing, nothing too dangerous”

“and did you had fun today?” he asked you, you looked at him surprised, you didn’t expect him to be this calm, and then you saw it, it was just a second, but that tiny and momentary spark in his eyes told you everything “you knew it don’t you?” you asked him, a smile appeared on his lips “yes, but you know what chérie? knowing that you can defend yourself so fiercely only makes me fall more and more in love with you”

“s-shut up d-don’t be dumb” you told him while trying to evade his intense gaze, your ears burning like fire. it didn’t matter how but he always made you feel so amazing, and that was one between of the uncountable reasons that you loved him.

❥ Napoleon Bonaparte

he’s proud of his nunuche

it’s something normal to see the two of you fencing til death

won’t admit it but he sometimes goes easy on you

that’s until you start teasing him

so yeah most of your sparring seasons ends up with the both of you lying on the floor trying to breathe properly

it was common to meet up with napoleon wednesdays and fridays at the sparring room. “if you want to evade more faster the attacks flex your knees a little bit more, it’ll be more easy to move too” while his face had a serious facade, his eyes were soft. napoleon loved this. spending time with the person he loved only made his heart to beat so fast that he sometimes wondered if he would die right there.

following your boyfriend’s advice you flexed a little more your legs, a felling of comfort appearing on your body. he really knows even when it’s not his own body. A mischievous grin appeared on your face, the odds for your idea to success were low, but it was worth trying it.

“let’s make a bet” your voice echoed the room, napoleon looked at you curious before adding “tell me”.

“if I lose this round, I’ll be at your mercy the whole night, any wish will be fulfilled by me” you smiled and winked at him before continuing “but if win, you will be at my mercy, I can request anything, what do you think? deal or not deal”

and now there you were, both of you lying on the ground, trying to catch your breathing and laughing at the same time, you looked at napoleon, he seemed to relaxed, so free, sometimes you cursed at yourself for not having a camera to take a photo. the view was worthy, really worthy. his eyes met yours, a smile appearing on his beautiful lips “let’s say that we’re both the winners” he said while getting up while offering his hand to you to do the same thing.

moments like this were really worthy.

❥ Arthur Conan Doyle

he discovered in the worst situation ever

it was past midnight when the Arthur decided to pay a visit to you

nah he was just horny

entering at you room without making any sound who could startle you he tried to went towards your bed when the tip which seemed from a sword was pointing in the middle of his face

he was ✨shocked✨

and screamed

actually his soul almost left his body

when you saw it was him you started to apologize like a crazy

he totally forgot why he went to your room

he made a mental note to not storm like that at your bedroom anymore

you were supposed to be sleeping, but for any reason your body didn’t want to. but something told you that probably it was because of dazai’s yōkai story. with a sigh you closed the windows and started to prepare yourself to go to bed. that was until you heard a tiny but almost inaudible footsteps at the corridor. each step seemed to be more and more closer to your door.

the probably that someone could be up at this hour was almost impossible, you thought about arthur, but he told you that he probably would go to bed earlier because he had some business to attend at the town tomorrow.

in times like that you felt grateful for the infernal fencing classes that your parents told you to attend when you were younger. with careful steps, you stood behind the door, with your foile in hand. and then the door opened, with fast reflexes you pointed at the ghost- wait, at the person, you heard a scream which made you scream too, turning the lights on you saw arthur with a surprise face almost terrified.

“OH– ARTHUR IM SO SORRY” you screamed throwing the foile and taking with both of your hands you boyfriends handsome face “oh god oh god, I really thought you were a ghost or something, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!”

taking a big breath arthur looked at you, now more composed and calm “tell me, did you want something” you talked taking his hand with yours, he looked at you, and then at the door “I- I don’t remember”

❥ Jean D’Arc

he didn’t expect it at all

he didn’t have words

just like Arthur he found out in the worst situation

it was one of your late night walkings when a group of three men approached to the both of you

feeling the danger jean wrapped an arm around you his jaw tensed and his hand on the tip of his sword

he saw that the other man had one too

he told you to hide

after the incident sometimes asks you to fence with him sometimes

it’s just an excuse to spend time with you

“jean I think that they’re following us” you told your boyfriend, his grip on your shoulder tensed up, his beautiful purple eyes were darker, jaw clenched “mademoiselle when I give you the sign you run, okay?”

you looked at jean and then the three man, something caught your eye. the man on the left had a sword, a big one. you knew that that classes that fencing classes would be worthy in the future. you looked at jean who was prepared to defend you from that group of men. but who would protect him, without thinking further and with a fast movement you took the man’s sword elegantly pointing at him death in the eye.

there weren’t three surprised faces but four, jean’s face got totally decomposed, surprise written on his face. he never, not in a million of years would ever imagine you being able to handle a sword with that determination “jean I appreciate your concern about my well-being but if you protect me, who will protect you?”

and with that words the soldier was preparing a whole wedding inside his head. you made him see all the good thing in the world, and he swore for his life that he would protect that perception of the world for you. but for the first time, in many years he let his pride and stubbornness apart, he promised to himself that he would never let you go. not you, not his warrior angel.

— yōkai or 妖怪 are a class of supernatural monsters and spirits in Japanese folklore. The word 'yōkai' is made up of the kanji for "bewitching; attractive; calamity" and "spectre; apparition; mystery; suspicious."

[phantoms-lair]

Mystery March 15: Family

Halfway there W00T

Also this is a continuation of my MSA Holiday Spirits Gift for @worldbeyondtheworld

Arthur jumped at the sudden ring of the phone. He sent it a suspicious look. It was almost midnight, who would be calling? It was too late for even a spam call.

Tentatively,, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Arthur?" A familiar voice asked. It was that friend of Vivi's cousin. Velma or something. "What are you doing up?"

"Why did you call if you thought I wouldn't be up?" Arthur countered.

"I thought Lewis would be up, since he doesn't need to sleep. It doesn't matter though. How fast can you, or at least Vivi, get to Moonscar Island?"

Arthur shifted and grabbed a pencil and paper while he used his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear. "Depends. Where is it?"

"A bayou in Louisiana, near New Orleans." Arthur looked unimpressed.

"You do realize we're in Texas, right? And Lewis is the only one who can fast travel via medium."

"I know, but we're seriously out of our depth here. We were told it was a ghost, we were ready for ghosts. We were not ready for centuries old Voodoo cat people who sustain their immortality by draining the life from their victims, and the zombiefied remains of the previous victims."

Arthur fumbled and almost dropped the phone. "Are you safe now? Is anyone missing?" He stood up and started running towards the bedroom Lewis and Vivi were sleeping in.

"We're all together and all fine, I think. Shaggy and Scooby got slightly life drained, but he seems to be fine now. The cat creatures are dead, but Fred-"

Arthur cursed, Vivi would NOT take it well if her cousin was hurt. "Okay Velma, I just need you to keep it together a little while longer-''

~

"What the Hell?" Detective Bo Neville cried as a giant fox with a young woman and young man riding on it appeared with a fiery skull ghost by its side.

"I thought you were in Texas?" Daphne asked, getting up.

"Magic cheating." Arthur answered. "It's expensive, and I don't mean monetarily. But yeah, this seemed worth it."

"What going on with Fred?" Vivi jumped off Mystery and ran over to the group, only to have her own question answered the moment she saw him. "Okay, I see the problem." she said, extremely relieved.

"As I believe Vivi can handle this, the rest of us should make sure there were no unexpected surprises where the rituals took place. Could you guide us to the site? And not you two,” he nodded at Shaggy and Scooby. “Until you've had a thorough examination, I want you to rest." Mystery asked.

Shell-shocked, Detective Neville led them away.

"So," Vivi said, sitting on the ground, "Tell me what happened?"

~

They were trapped. Unable to move, despite nothing physically restraining them. The wax dolls did their work. As Lena said, they'd have lots of practice.

"Are we supposed to feel sorry for you?" Daphne snapped after they told their tale. "What the pirates did to you was horrible, and I can understand wanting revenge on them. But then you became worse than the pirates, not only killing innocent people and taking their possessions, but trapping their souls too!"

Lena hissed and slammed Daphne against the wall. Fred struggled against his invisible bonds when suddenly he felt a shift.

He was no longer tied in a cave, but on the ground in a gently snowing forest. He got up, no longer restrained, and saw someone sitting on a rock. Vivi? No, that wasn't who this was. "Mushi-obaasan?" he asked.

"Hello again Fred." Her voice wasn't what he was expecting, so different than Vivi's. "Can we talk for a bit?"

"But my friends-" Fred looked around, trying to find a way back to them.

"Time passes differently here. Don't worry, not matter how long we talk, no time will pass for them. Tell me, what did Vivi tell me of the clan your family married into?"

"Vivi said the Yukino Clan were protectors. That they protected people from evil." Fred recalled. "And that you were known for your swordsmanship and winter powers."

"Not bad, but perhaps overly simplified." Mushi smiled. "The worlds of man and magic tend to cross. Sometimes it's peaceful, and other times not. And not always were the yōkai - the magical ones - the aggressors. I and my clan acted as protectors. We protected human from yōkai and yōkai from humans. Though the gift of ice was originally a part of our bloodline, it faded through the generations. Now it only occurs when I deem one worthy. But as the two worlds separated, the need for the Yukino clan to answer the call to its traditional role comes rarely."

"Kinda wish we had someone like that with us now," Fred admitted.

"Funny, you should mention that." Mushi laughed. "Fred, you're family by marriage, and by the love of the family. But would you like to formally join the Yukino clan - ?"

"But I don't know anything about yōkai, except a bit about ghosts. Or how to fight." And he was probably about to die, but Lewis showed that didn't necessarily lower one's combat potential.

"But even not knowing how, would you? For those that need help?" She reached her hand out.

~

Fred's eyes suddenly lost focus as Lena attacked Daphne. Then his arm slowly rose, unaffected by the wax's spell.

"No! How is he doing that?" Simone grabbed his arm and tried to shove it back down. Then his hand suddenly clasped shut and Simone screamed as her claws became frozen in ice.

Fred's eyes sharpened as awareness returned to him. He was back in the cave, but didn't feel restrained by the doll anymore. He stood and could feel the ice thrumming inside him, begging to be let out. He held on to it, though. He was still too close to Daphne and Velma to risk it being let loose. The frost climbed along his arms and fists, but didn't bother him.

He aimed a sloppy punch at Lena, which grazed her shoulder, leaving shards of ice in its wake.

"What are you?" Lena hissed.

"A Yukino." Fred said with a grin. He pushed the ice out from his hands along the floor, freezing Lena and Simone’s feet to the floor. Once sure they couldn't move, he pulled the hair and cloth out of the dolls of Daphne, Velma, and Bo.

"Grandma Mushi?" Daphne asked lightly.

"Grandma Mushi'' Fred confirmed, before Shaggy and Scooby's screams rent through the cave.

They all ran towards the sound, but Fred pulled ahead. He got to the mouth of the cave and felt his heart stop as he saw Shaggy and Scooby in Jacques’ claws. His vision narrowed until he only saw his friends, their bodies shriveling like the zombies that had been chasing them.

The Ice surged through him and he made a jump he certainly wouldn’t have been capable of before. He grabbed Jacques’ head in both his hands and shoved all the ice he could.

The giant cat monster fell over and his frozen head smashed to pieces on the stone floor.

“Like, Ice timing, Fred,” Shaggy said weakly, even as he began to return to normal. “I was beginning to feel like a raisin.”

“Are you guys okay?” Fred asked, trying his best to ignore the very dead body he had just killed.

“Retting rere,” Scooby answered.

“Boys!” Daphne ran forwards and flung her arms around them. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You okay Fred?” Velma asked, glancing between the frost falling from his fingertips and Jacques’ corpse.

“I have no idea,” Fred answered honestly.

As he said this the zombie surged in. Shaggy and Scooby shrieked and Fred took a defensive posture. But he didn’t feel the same pressure and urgency from the ice he had before.

And the zombies seemed content to ignore them, save for one confederate soldier that helped Shaggy up and another who patted Scooby’s head as they passed.

“Like, what was up with that?” Shaggy asked in wonder.

“The zombies aren’t the bad guys.” Velma explained. “They were the victims, those Simone, Lena, and Jacques killed over the centuries.”

“Zoinks,” Shaggy said, more quietly than usual.

“What do we do now?” Daphne asked quietly.

“I think we don’t do anything.” Fred answered. “I think this is the zombies finding peace.”

As if in response twin screams came from the chamber and Jacques body slowly dissolved into aether. The zombies still lingering in the passage collapsed, their spirits joining a parade of souls floating upward.

The soldier who helped Shaggy up stopped to salute them “Thank you kindly,” he said, before floating upwards.

“What just happened?” Bo asked.

“A lot.” Daphne said simply, and Fred leaned against the cave wall to catch his breath.

The wall froze.

“You have no idea how to turn the ice off, do you?” Velma observed.

The floor under his feet froze.

Velma sighed. “Let’s call your cousin.”

~

“And that’s it.” Fred finished from the center of the ring of ice that surrounded him.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Vivi hugged him, being unaffected by the cold he was projecting. “Now the first thing-” She was cut off by a sudden explosion as violet-tinged fire poured out of the mouth of the nearby cave. “Sounds like the boys are almost done. Now the first thing we need to do is get you a weapon.”

“I think I am a weapon.” Fred waved his icy hand back and forth.

“And that’s your problem.” Vivi explained, “Mushi had her sword and I had my bat. We channeled the ice through them and that made it easier. Putting down or sheathing a weapon is a great way to mentally end a dangerous situation. But you used your hands, and you can’t really put those down. And the fact that you’re still in enemy territory and very freaked out isn’t helping. As far as the ice is concerned, you’re still in battle.”

“But the cat monsters are gone-”

“Oh you have a lot to learn.” Vivi bemoaned. “They’re gone. This is still enemy territory. And this place is steeped in two hundred years of sacrificial magic. That doesn’t vanish in an instant. The boys are making sure no one can access it easily, but it’s going to be a long while before Moonscar Island isn’t steeped in the kind of power the Yukino clan is dedicated to stopping.”

“Evil Cat God Altar is toast,” Arthur announced cheerfully, Detective Neville behind him with a hundred yard stare. “Lewis is checking to see if anything else in the house needs a good cleansing fire and Mystery is negotiating non-hostilities with the cats.”

“The cats?”

“Yeah, turns out they’ve absorbed enough of the magic those three were using to not be normal cats anymore. The general argument Mystery is using is their colony attacked yours first and you retaliated. And that there will be no further retaliation if they don’t start anything.” Arthur explained.

“Can we go now?” Detective Neville asked in a small voice.

“Lewis can melt anything Fred accidentally freezes, so we should be good as soon as he gets back.”

“I’m going to be stuck in Texas again, aren’t I?” Fred asked dryly.

“Yup, you need training. Combat and study.” Vivi said cheerfully. She helped him up and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “And this may be weird to say, since we’re cousins, but welcome to the family, Fred.”

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Draco Falling in love if you were in Gryffindor Pt2

Warnings: Swearing. Angst.

You were there for the last trial and some anxiety just fucking hit you like a bus

Something was wrong. You knew this and you tried to voice that.

Draco could tell you were nervous for your two friends that were in this

Most of the trial was spent trying to calm you down, Fred and George also trying to distract you

That's when Harry came back and you stood up and saw it

"No." You whimpered.

Draco couldn't see what made you react like that until he realized that Harry was on top of Cedric.

You buried your face in Draco's jacket and just sobbed

Fred and George couldn't believe this happened.

Hermione and Ron watched as Mad eye Moody walked away with Harry sobbing

You were left to hear Cedric's poor father screaming over his dead son's body.

The next few days were hard

No one dared to separate you and Draco.

Which finding him asleep on the couch with you in his arms in the Gryffindor common room was now a regular occurrence.

Mcgonagall never questioned shit.

You helped Harry through his grieving and he helped you with yours.

You spent the summer again with the Weasleys

Fred and George's business was surprisingly well

Something strange happened though.

Mid-day, all of you were sitting around having lunch and there was a knock on the door.

Draco was standing there with this shocked look.

"Draco? Sweetie what's wrong?" Molly asked.

"I've uhm..." He walked in and ran a hand over his face. "I've been disowned." He said making everyone stand up.

"What!?" You asked.

"My uhm.. my family called me a blood traitor for being with you and uh..." Draco blinked a few times.

"They disowned me." He repeated.

"Good lord!" Arthur gasped and you hugged him.

"You've got us Draco... We're not going anywhere." Fred said putting a hand on his shoulder.

"If I see Lucius in public can I kick his balls?" Ginny asked making everyone turn to her.

"What? I'm just saying! A swift kick to the--"

"OKAYYY GINNY!" Molly said putting a hand over her daughter's mouth making you all laugh.

Draco stayed with all of the Weasley's too.

Molly found him sitting outside one night and she sat next him.

"Are you alright?" Molly asked.

"Couldn't sleep. I give Y/n so much crap about staying up late but I'm the one who can't sleep." He chuckled.

Molly put a hand on his shoulder and he sighed.

"We love you Draco. Just the way you are and we wouldn't change a single thing about you. You're not a blood traitor." Molly said.

Draco hugged Molly and she gained a son that day.

The school year started with Umbridge.

That damn woman and cats. What the fuck was with her and cats!?

You hated that woman more than anything and when Fred and George pulled a bunch of fireworks out you were like "Right on!"

Course when they were expelled it pissed you off more than you could possibly say.

For some reason Draco was loved by this woman though and he used that to his advantage.

When he found out about her hurting Harry you actually had to restrain him from killing her.

When centaurs took her you wouldn't stop smiling.

You kept singing "ding dong the bitch is gone" and everyone couldn't stop laughing.

Draco's parents did try to convince him to leave you and come back home to which he responded with a simple "No. Fuck off."

You guys joined the order

You stood by Harry every step of the way and when Arthur nearly died Draco was pissed.

Like he had some murderous rage in him

You all worked with Harry and Sirius though

Sirius actually loved Draco

Like yeah, the kid's dad is an unbearable asshole but damn this kid's got a spark!

Draco actually thought Sirius was awesome too.

When he found out the two of them were related they were like "Hey! Disowned buddies!"

But everything came to a screeching halt when you helped Harry

and ended up in that battle.

Shit hit the fan and of course Draco's father was there.

It all happened so quickly, flashes of light going by you as Tonks tried to get you and Draco to safety.

Then you heard it.

Bellatrix's killing curse.

You turned around and saw Sirius stumble and your heart dropped.

You broke away from Tonks, sprinting to Harry.

You had to pull him back as he let out this hauntingly sad scream.

When you finally got out of there Harry was of course having a meltdown.

Draco was there for him though listening to it all

It was almost hard to believe that Draco hated him at one point.

Draco made him laugh at one point

"Did you see my father's face when the thing actually broke though? I think he almost cried"

Harry was glad he had this guy as a friend

The school year was of course hard on Harry

Ron could see the poor guy's mental state just deteriorating

Draco no longer had to worry about things getting back to his parents, so you bet your ass Harry sat at that table every fucking day.

"Wait wait wait. You're telling me that his cane is also his wand?" You asked about Lucius's cane.

"Yeah he pulled out at the ministry, that's why he carried it with him? I always figured it was because he was a pompous ass who wanted to look official." Harry said making you all laugh.

When Albus died all of you were in this state of shock

Like holy shit this is bad.

Like it was bad before but now it's bad.

When Snape took over Draco genuinely could not tell if he was evil or not.

He was literally the only one in the group who was automatically like "He's evil dude"

You guys didn't realize how bad this would get until you had to bust into Bellatrix's vault

You were more of a look out of sorts

And uhm

All of you ended up at the Manor.

"Seriously, is your dad goth or just a fan of black?" You asked.

"Personally I think he takes the whole evil thing too seriously." Luna said.

"See Luna gets it." You said.

Then they chose a prisoner... Or two.

They figured the quickest way for information was to ask Draco while hurting you.

And boy it almost worked

You screamed bloody murder as she carved into your arm

He had to restrained by two people as you screamed.

Even Lucius thought this was too extreme, for fucks sake you were children.

Harry finally got free though and you all left

You were crying like crazy, you couldn't catch your breath as Draco held you.

The two of you were so scared then and damn it only got worse as that final battle approached.

You told your family to run and do not fucking look back and they did

Molly hated seeing you come home that day

You looked so exhausted and you just hugged her crying.

Fred and George both hated seeing you like this.

I mean: yes you spent your past few years here in the burrow but damn it that was your family.

You finally got to that battle

You fought strong and hard the whole time

Any death eaters near you or your friends went down in seconds

Draco saw Fred in danger and saved his life.

"You just saved my life!" Fred panted.

"Anything for a friend." Draco said also out of breath.

"We're not friends Draco." Fred breathed. "Sorry I--" "We're brothers." He finished.

And damn it Draco fought even harder because the Weasleys became his family.

When Ginny and Molly were in trouble he was not having that shit.

"GET AWAY FROM MY MOTHER YOU PRAT!" he said before fucking destroying her.

Molly managed to find a smile in such a tense situation.

Ginny also thought "This guys an asshole. But he's my brother so it's fine."

You and Draco fought together at one point against his parents

Oh God Draco was a wreck as he was arguing with his father.

"YOU COULD'VE BEEN WITH US! YOU COULD'VE HAD THE WORLD WHY DIDN'T YOU WANT THIS!?" Lucius screamed as he threw attacks.

"I JUST WANTED YOU TO FUCKING LOVE ME!" Draco answered, knocking Lucius on his feet.

"Go. Don't you ever show your face again!" Draco told him.

And Lucius booked it with his mother.

Then the battle reached a halt when Harry was dead.

Draco took it hard, burying his face in your shoulder as Hagrid held Harry.

Hermione and Ron both couldn't believe this was happening. This was their best friend.

You listened to Neville's big "Fuck you" to voldemort before noticing Harry's leg twitch.

You touched Draco's shoulder and Harry finally fell out of Hagrid's arms and Draco grabbed the wand and threw it to Harry

The battle was so bright it looked like the light from it was fucking melting

And then Harry won

It was over.

Everyone was cheering until their throats gave out

You hugged Draco and the Weasleys hugged you guys.

When you finally let go Draco let out a laugh.

"Y/n I have a question." He finally said.

"What is it?" You asked.

"Will you marry me?" He asked.

Everyone in your vicinity went dead silent before you said

"YES YOU IDIOT!"

Your wedding was awesome by the way

Molly made the cake

Later down the road you had kids

And you spent every holiday at the Burrow because the kids loved their grandparents

Course they also loved their uncles who gave them free stuff from their shop.

Everytime you went to King's cross you and the group would get dinner together.

You became a journalist, Draco worked at the ministry alongside Arthur

You absolutely loved the people sitting at the table.

Because damn it: This was family.

And it wasn't going anywhere.

[cartooness]

Mystery March Day 10: Mistake (Her Name?)

Alright my dudes: I know. Tis I, Cartooness, posting a ficlet of sorts. Which I never do lmao.

BUT!

I had ideas OWOWOWOWOWOW

Warning this portrays Mystery in a negative light so if that’s not ya jam, go ahead and skip.

**I START HERE, I’M USING THE READ MORE FOR A DIFFERENT TIME >:3**

SO @nemesis-is-my-middle-name and I were chatting and this is what came out of it XD

In my AU (that’s where my Lavender Grey character comes from lol), since I first made it I thought “omg what if Mystery was like. ‘Afraid’ or just weary of her because of how powerful she is” but now that The Future is out, I’m all “holy fucking shit what if Mystery is almost *jealous* of her because the gang doesn’t want him around her”. They say it’s for her sake (but it’s also for their sake) because they don’t want her to be scared.

He’s both [weary and jealous of Lavender], he’s all “okay. This girl comes LITERALLY out of nowhere and I’m glad they’re giving her a place to stay, she is a child. But this is a very powerful child, one that overwhelmingly outranks me in that field. Why aren’t they afraid of her? Why is it ME that they’re keeping her away from?” 

I guess he knows what he’s done in the past was shitty, but he doesn’t know why this random ass kid owns their heart now when he’s the one who was there first. Ya know, like an asshole.

I wanna say that he makes her cry because he just lets all the negativity loose and he’s caught mid rant by ARTHUR.

So. Mystery has basically been fending for himself for a little while, no big deal. Except he can't stop thinking about that damned girl. What has she done for them? How has she won them all over so easily? Only Lewis was the type to be soft for children, but Arthur? VIVI? Being parental figures? The world has gone mad.

He saw them time to time in that mansion of Lewis's, and they all looked so happy without him. Vivi hadn't seemed to be going on missions anymore, which was beyond shocking. Why not, that child is so powerful any threats would back off if they had a single brain cell.

Not to mention Shiromori was now on the girl's side; he spotted her occasionally checking up on her and putting small blooms in her hair, typically while she slept. It made the child look more innocent than she actually was in his eyes. He remembered when he was the one getting flower gifts and such when Shiromori was on his side. And with a protector like her, the child was practically untouchable.

Mystery flirted with the idea of that girl getting hurt and them coming back to him for help. But he didn't let himself ponder too long, that would be cruel. But he couldn't help but think about it.

What *would* happen if harm came her way?

Would they mourn her if such a fate could happen?

Would they come crying back to him?

Or would they blame him for a tragedy he didn't cause. They just *loved* to blame him.

...

He couldn't stop himself anymore. He trotted his way to that stupid little happy home and sniffed out what room belonged to the girl, the unmistakable scent of raw power and flowers filling the air. He peered into her window, in his dog form, and lo and behold she was there. He yanked the window open and sat on her bed, not caring about getting that sickeningly "cute" comforter dirty with his mud covered paws.

"Oh! It's you, Mystery. Can... I help you?" She was a bit puzzled as to what he needed her for, she thought he was fine being on his own.

Actually my dear, you can.

"Oh?-"

Get out of their lives. You don't deserve anything they've given you.

Her pupils shrunk, taken aback from his remark. "Did I do something wrong? I don't-"

Don't play stupid with me, girl. You are the reason I'm not allowed to be with them anymore, that I've been scorned to never return. You just barged your way into their lives, into MY life and took everything I've worked so hard for away. They're so worried about their 'little princess' that they don’t realize how damn DANGEROUS you are!

Don't they feel that power you possess? Aren't they afraid of you? 

She looked like he ripped her gut out, her eyes welling with tears, irises ever so slightly tinting blue with sadness.

Don't you DARE cry, he growled, you won't get a drop of pity out of me.

"Mystery”, she started, sniffling as she tried to speak, “please tell me-" 

I'M ALREADY TELLING YOU, YOU IDIOT! HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE? YOU RUINED EVERYTHING FOR ME AND YOU’RE ACTING LIKE YOU DESERVE THIS LOVING LITTLE FAMILY? WELL YOU DON'T. *I'M* THE ONE WHO PROTECTED THEM, *I'M* THE ONE WHO KEPT THEM OUT OF HARM'S WAY, THEN YOU SHOW UP AND RIP IT ALL AWAY!!

WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS? WHY DO YOU ACT LIKE YOU'RE HARMLESS? NOBODY WITH POWERS LIKE YOURS STAY IDLE. WHERE DID YOU EVEN COME FROM?! I KNOW YOU'RE NOT HUMAN, SO DON'T TRY AND LIE TO ME. YOU THINK YOU'RE *SO* SPECIAL DON'T YOU?

She was sobbing now, eyes visibly baby blue and tears running down her face.

FOR GOD'S SAKE, SHUT UP WITH ALL THAT CRYING AND-

"Mystery if you don't leave right now I SWEAR I will chop every God forsaken tail of yours off."

Shit.

A-Arthur I-

"Why the fuck are you here? What made you think you were welcome?" His fatherly instinct had kicked in as soon he heard noise from his child’s room and ran over in an instant.

"Lav, baby, go to the bathroom” he started with a kiss to her nose, “so you can go wash your face. I have some business to finish", directing his gaze towards the intruder.

I'm here to open your eyes, Arthur. What has she accomplished while I was gone? What’s been going on with you... five? It seems her army grows every day.

"That is PATHETIC, Mystery."

What is? I'm just stating-

"I don't give a shit about your opinion, you broke into a child's room and you're YELLING AT HER because what, you're fucking....”

He pondered why Mystery was here spreading grief. They did tell him to piss off so that Lav wouldn’t be in danger, and honestly they didn’t need to be so stressed with him in the house all the time either. It’s not a good idea to welcome back a recently possessed kitsune into their home when they were all recovering from the trauma he inflicted. Old and new...

New... is he... 

“Are you,,, jealous of her?" he asked, tone on the verge of shock.

Good lord, this boy.

Arthur, I am here because I care and I worry about you, Lewis, and Vivi. And it concerns me that you've thrown all my help away for some MUTT that doesn't belong-

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Arthur shouted, trembling and trying not to scream so he wouldn’t scare Lav a few doors down. 

I will NOT, I'm not done yet-

"YES YOU FUCKING ARE.” 

The look of pain and anger was so clear on his face, and Mystery shut his mouth instantly.

"YOU *ARE* DONE BECAUSE YOU JUST RUINED THE VERY MINISCULE CHANCE WE WERE GOING TO GIVE YOU TO PROPERLY MEET HER. YOU’VE MADE ONE TOO MANY MISTAKES."

His voice was cracking, he wasn’t the type to do all... this. Just how much had this girl influenced them?

Arthur, please-

As if on cue, Lavender returned from the bathroom. "Mr. Arthur, am I in trouble?” She asked, big brown eyes looking up at him. “Mystery kept telling me that I did something wrong by being here and it didn't make sense to me."

"What exactly did he tell you, love?" he asked, eyebrows slightly softening just for her.

Oh FUCK. ((A/N: YEAH U DONE FUCKED UP YOU ASS))

She looked almost scared to answer; she was aware the kitsune could be merciless, and didn’t want to be attacked in the mansion Lewis had worked so hard on. Mystery was so angry at her and she didn’t understand why. 

"Well... he told me that I ruined his life because I guess I took his place or something. He said I'm dangerous because I'm more powerful than him, and.. he said mean things about me in general.”

Arthur’s metal hand flew up, ready to attack. 

“Mr. Arthur! W-what are you doing?-"

And Arthur hit Mystery as hard as he could.

There was an excruciating scream of pain, one that caused Lewis and Vivi to abandon the groceries they were bringing in to see all the commotion.

ARTHUR, YOU BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!

"YOU MADE MY CHILD CRY BECAUSE YOU HAD YOUR PETTY FEELINGS HURT? FOR SOMETHING SHE NEVER DID? YOU HAD THE GOD DAMN *BALLS* TO BREAK IN, YELL INSULTS AT A KID, MAKE HER CRY, AND THINK THAT YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT?"

Lewis rushed over, trying to calm his boyfriend down. "Arthur, mi amor, what- MYSTERY?! How did HE get here?!”

S h i t.

Vivi felt her heart drop to her feet at the mention of her ‘dog’s’ name. "WHAT IS HE DOING HERE? I THOUGHT WE KICKED HIM OUT!" she exclaimed, her stomach filling with dread.

Lewis, Vivi, if you just let me EXPLAIN-

Arthur almost made a hole in the wall with the pound of his fist. "So this little FUCKER broke into Lav's room to yell at her because she lives with us and he wasn't invited. I come over to see who's in her room yelling at her, and she's crying uncontrollably while he keeps going at her, spewing a bunch of BULLSHIT, and he thinks he can explain himself and why he's in the right."

"....what?" said Lewis and Vivi, shocked by Mystery's audacity.

Lav started to cry again, thinking she would be punished for this, and Lewis quickly pulled her into his embrace. "Mi florecita preciosa, you did nothing wrong-"

REALLY LEWIS? Mystery growled, feeling patronized, especially as Lewis tightened his grip. SHE'S NOT A BABY-

"Shut your snout right now", snapped Vivi. "Get the fuck out of our house and you BETTER not come back. You have ONE chance to apologize to her and that's it."

Can I come back if I do?

"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO COME BACK" growled Arthur, his flesh hand placed gently on Lav's head and his metal one pointing at Mystery, Lewis glaring so hard it could kill.

Nobody was on his side, and the look on the girl’s face almost made him feel bad. 

Almost.

Very well then. I'll be on my way and hope that your ignorance won’t become your downfall.

"Hey Mystery, one more thing", Lewis started. "If you ever come back with bad intentions, we will kill you ourselves. I swear on anything and everything that you will not come here with a DROP of malice towards her. Do I make myself clear? And don’t you dare try and act smart, we are giving you a LOT of mercy when you don't deserve it."

...then I bid farewell. What is her name?

"My name is Lavender Grey."

Thank you. Goodbye, Miss Lavender Grey.

[devotedwaywardangel1]

Of Treaties and Nervous Rekindling

Leon x Male!Reader

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Word count: 1667

Warnings: Nightmares

A/N: This is a third try of writing this as they kept turning to multi chapter stories, if I turn the original into a multi chapter fic I’ll post it on AO3. See if you can find the small film reference.

Tagged: @fandom-star​

~~~~~~~

Being in the great hall has got to be the stupidest thing that you have ever done and there is a long list. If Constantine, your idiotic King, got us killed out of good intentions you swear to Furies that you’ll kill him in the after life. A black domino mask covers your face as you kneel at King Arthur’s fury. He is yet to know who you all are yet and boy he is going to have a heart attack, fun times. Sloane has her raven black hair covering her face as she is shoved to her knees, making you growl at the cocky knight who thought he could be boastful. Zathrian’s auburn hair has been un-neatened by an almost comically large man. King Arthur’s voice booms across the hall. “Who are you and what is your business in Camelot?”

“I am Constantine, King of Dumnonia.” He speaks in an authoritative tone. 

“What?” The King seems shocked

“A letter was sent informing you of our arrival a month ago, we are here to simply renew a treaty.” 

“Merlin! Get the documents on my desk now.” He growls.

A scrawny servant runs from the King’s side past you. Minutes later he and other knights enter and you see Leon. It had been over a decade since you last saw him and damn he grew up, probably taller than you now, hair hasn’t changed one bit. You’re now thankful for the mask you were wearing otherwise he would have known it’s you straight away. The serving boy hands the king the letter and you can see the embarrassment on his face as it proves your innocence.

“I apologise for the misunderstanding, we thought-” The King started 

“That we were here to kill you, don’t flatter yourself.” Sloane snaps.

“Slo, play nice.” Constantine tells her sternly before standing up.

You follow suit. “It was an honest mistake, do you want to try again on the first impressions.” Constantine rensures.

The King looks shocked, but having Uther as a parent would make him think he was going to be punished for a mistake such as this. You brush yourself off, in an attempt to be somewhat presentable. “That would be appreciated, your Majesty.” Arthur nods.

They made their introductions but you were busy scowling at the now apologetic looking knight, Gwaine, who shoved Slo on the ground. Until she elbows you in the ribs causing you to grunt and childishly stick your tongue at her. She flicks your nose and laughs as it scrunches up. Zathrian is smiling. “Behave.” Constantine turns around after shaking the King’s hand to scold us. 

“But…” Zath tries.

“No buts or ifs. My apologies, they are children I swear.”

“What are your names?” Gwen asks, you didn’t even sense her coming in the room.

“Zathrian, m'lady.” He bows down respectfully.

“Sloane.” She nods.

“Ulrich Von Liechtenstein.” you smile coyly, why you said that you don’t know.

Zath and Slo double over laughing and Constantine gives you a glare but you just shrug it off. “That’s not his name, he just thinks he’s funny.” 

“(Y/n), at your service sir and on the contrary I’m hilarious.” You smile, removing your mask stuffing it into a trouser pocket.

You look at Leon and he is smiling, oh gods that smile it felt like everything good in this world smacks you in the face. You smile back. “(Y/n)? Your name sounds familiar.” Arthur asks.

“It should, your father did torture me after all.” I raise my eyebrow, where is my damn filter you think. All traces of happiness dissipate from your face with all fairness. You do look scary when you appear monotonous. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, you turn to get Constantine’s approval he nods.

“I used magic to save a child’s life.” 

“You have magic.” He looks at you with anger and disgust.

“Yes, sire.” You remain stoic with your jaw tensing.

The knights of Camelot tense up, Leon eyes them before looking at you. That's when you know he doesn’t hate you. He’s worried. You shake it off and bow down at the King’s feet and mercy. If he were to kill you a war may start but it would be against a dishonorable man, if he shows mercy and a willingness to learn there is hope for Albion yet. “Rise, I wish to understand not to do harm.”

“Oh thank Clementia, really I thought I was going to die.” Shit that was out loud.

“One condition, it's not to be used to harm any one.” He adds.

“I can't, my magic lies in the art of healing, transformation and a few other things.” You explain.

“What do you mean?” The king asks 

“Everyone’s magic is different, I can’t use spells that purposely inflict harm unless threatened.” You shrug.

“Good to know.” He seems to relax.

“That’s why I stab people instead.” You smile.

“(Y/n)! Stop trying to be funny. It will get you killed!” Constantine nearly shouts.

The knight with shoulder length hair starts to laugh hysterically. You just smile and look down holding in your laugh, looking at Leon he’s smiling. Constantine looks ready to cry, out of frustration probably. The King is unable to respond. Zath grabs my shoulder and pulls you out. “Us two are leaving before the wanna be Menander kills himself.” He drags you out without another word.

You sigh in relief as the doors of the great hall close behind you. “Thanks I couldn’t stop.” You rub that back of your neck awkwardly.

“No problem, tavern?” He suggests.

“Are we allowed to go without Slo?” You ask seriously.

“It gives an opportunity for Constaloane to happen.” Zath justifies.

“Fair lets go.” You agree.

~~~~

Both of you came back after a couple of tankards and Zath is drunk off his ass, lightweight. While you’re a little fuzzy. You spot the serving boy from the hall. “Kid!” You catch his attention.

He turns around smiling as he walks up to you. “Hi can I help you, Sirs.” He asks.

“Don’t worry about titles, but could you show us to our rooms if we have them.” 

“Of course, follow me.” He whispers seeing Zath close to asleep on you.

You drag Zath to his room, and put him on the bed. “Thank you…”

“Merlin, Sir (Y/n).” He smiles and nods.

“Thank you Merlin.” You return the smile.

You enter the guest room and collapse onto the bed and sleep overcomes you in a matter of seconds.

A crack of a whip resonates through a dark cell a pained groan follows, another crack and another. Chains rattle as a boy pulls on them in an attempt to break free. High pitch whistling signaled trouble brewing under the surface. The boy’s skin started to crack golden light seeping from the cracks turning pure black. (E/c) eyes started to well up with tears as he felt himself being torn apart. Screams erupt from his throat and the boy is replaced with a mass of hissing black smoke.

You bolt up sweating and panting. You groan and stretch, the sun is peeking over the horizon so you decide to change into your armour and head over to the training field that you had spotted the previous day. There is a training dummy already set up, you draw your sword and begin hacking into it aggressively and it takes mere minutes for you to destroy it, yet you feel no better. You look around desperately for something to take out your rage, fear and sorrow on. You hear a cough, your head snaps at the direction of the noise. It's Leon. He walks up to you slowly as if you were a scared animal. “(Y/n), we didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday.”

“Sorry.” You look to your feet.

He backtracks quickly “No it’s not an issue, obviously you were nervous being back here.”

“Eh you know, son of Uther kinda scary.”

“Arthur has grown.”

“I know.”

“But I’m not here to talk about Arthur.”

You smile and shake your head. “I suppose not.”

“You left without me, why?”

Well that escalated from a trot to a full on gallop. But you manage to get words out. “I couldn’t uproot you from your home and family.”

“That should have been my choice to make.”

“You know what, I don’t feel bad if that’s what you want. I was tortured, I got literally torn apart. You would have got killed, and that would have been on me!” You defend.

He looks taken aback. “What?” 

“Slave traders, I suppressed my magic then boom… a lot of people died.”

He touches your face and you want to lean into the touch but you can’t seem to. So he initiates the hug instead keeping you in a tight hold, you hesitate to return it seeing it has been a while since you’ve been held. You both stay like that for a while, before Leon breaks the hug with a heartbroken expression. You dread what he is about to say. ”Do you think we could ever be possible?”

“I don’t know… I’m not the same man you loved all those years ago.” 

“Then let’s get to know each other again, let me fall for you all over again.”

“Sounds like you already started.”

“I started as soon as I saw you smile.”

You smile up at him. But inside you are conflicted, if this were to work out how will it work. You love your new life, Constantine is more than just your King he is your friend he gave you a chance when no one else would. Sloane was the one who pulled you out of rubble after you exploded. Zathrian forge your nobility papers to get your foot through the door of knighthood. But you guess you’ll cross that bridge later and pray it goes well for the both of you. 

“Come on we have a treaty to deal with.” You start walking.

[smallestclowninthecircus]

Season 4 notes

Ep 121: mmmm tape recorder turning on without them knowing goes brrr. AAAhjhdsjfhjdf "do you mind if i call you jon" its like "can i call you elias?" is this the dream guy with the tendrils? who wants to bet the boat is captained by peter lukas? big man if it killed yall how are you still here. oh boy the tape is doin that thing. who do we think it is? did he wake up? hmm. ep 122: lol jon. 6 months!?!? bruh quit movin big man. he just Knows things sometimes you know how it is. nah b/c i can relate to feeling like other ppl/ things arent real, thats the biggest mood BUT i think it is kinda pretentious to entertain the idea that youre the only Real person. If you dont see a body dont believe it. i'll hold out hope for a bit. theres not a new archivist is there? surely i wouldve heard about that. oh god peter what changes did you make. ep 123: web development. hope its about spiders. she blames him. bruh why. if they hadnt done anything the world would've ended piss off melanie. why are ppl acting like he chose to be in a coma for 6 months. we know this they just appear. no longer "head archivist of the magnus institute, london" now he's just "the archivist" covered in spiders? cuz ik the spider has to do with controlling what youre doing and all this stuff but i cant think of how this connects to that. ep 124: ugh vertigo. is michael crew an old man? oooh. fairchild. how did he know it was martin? hmm. GRR I LOST MY NOTES AGAIN. FROM EPISODE 125 - part of 131. ep 131: bruh he's so hard to understand big man ur voice is so low. Jared Hotworth. the boneturner. "the ones i helped find their proper bodies" name a better top surgeon? our favorite trans ally? ep 132: woo field trip into the coffin! static lol. he says "chill out im just poppin in for a quick recall mission" is the rib thing actually gonna work? bruh it feels so odd and contrived but he's an odd man with some odd powers so idk. rip that archivist ayyy statement time. voices? recordings? are those tape recorders? was it the tape recorders? did they pull him back? i hope so b/c if the rib thing actually worked im gonna be so disappointed. ep 133: predicting the lonely? tundra. like the lukases. hmm. sanikova! like sanikov land. so its the hunt? i suppose? yeah. so daisy's clearly rejecting the hunt, which makes sense cuz she doesnt seem to like the entities that much. wait so are we just not gonna talk abt all the tapes playing on the ground?? no? ep 134: not an archival assistant anymore? Adelard Decker (or however you spell it) i recognize that name. 15th power. i was right there are 15. the extinction? im trying to remember what ive heard. oooh spooky. no i gotta be real i dont understand this fear but i'll believe you that its a thing. ew lukas is so squealy. lukas can turn invisible? oh boy. oooh martin put the tape recorders there. lol lukas is worried he's gonna be an avatar of the eye. ep 135: yoo its the third Daedalus statement! maxwell rayner (reiner? reigner?) i dont know who that is but ik its somebody. is he the cult leader guy? church of the divine host? 4 people?? what? did they kidnap somebody and keep them up there?? oh dear jon are you dying? did he try to See or Know or whatever? why does everyone call basira detective lol. ep 136: he was the one from the spider movie that ate ppl right? the special effects artist? is it annabelle cane? "its a joke jon" lol. hmm they wanted to record the therapy session with melanie? i wonder who that is. i almost wanna guess annabelle cane but im not sure. ep 137: this is the one! he went to the other place and read the war statement but it wasnt the one she took. not the music again. sounds like the slaughter. who the heck is eric lol. "the watcher's crown" like the crown of eyes we saw in the piccrew ep 138: oh boy Robert Smirk time. is that elias? as unhelpful as usual. if new powers can be "born" can others die out? did jonah magnus wear the watchers crown? maybe they were born from our fear or maybe our fears were born from them. ceaseless watcher does ceaselessly watch so. idk what you want

big man. yeah jonah for sure did something. ep 139: agnes!! lol that one dude threw off all their plans thats so funny. BUT this does tell us something. the tree in the backyard of the hilltop house? not made by her. it going down didnt kill agnes. im guessing gertrude tied agnes to the house using the tree? u good jon? cuz every time you try to Know smth intentionally it seems like it causes you great pain. how come he can do it accidentally with no problem but the second he wants to know smth of plot relevance he gets a headache or whatever ep 140: lol pagan exultation. classic. "oh thats my rib" lmaoo. ppl are always so mad at jon and his Eye powers except when it benefits them. they're like "oh you shouldnt do that its not right" and then all of a sudden they want to know something and its all "oh cmon jon its the only way" ep 142: oh god jon what did you do. its interesting she's giving her statement in the way that they do when jon Asks. did he see her in the Coffin? and so he's following her? ok cmon jon you're supposed to let them come to you. lmao ikr martin. "start to hear the blood" "suure." lmao ep 143: lol that awkward moment when gertrude is already dead. big J if you die im gonna kill you. bruh. ayo helen? i guess it worked? ep 144: lol this reminds me of that one edgar allan poe story where he kills the old dude with the weird eye. spooky music stuff. lol thats my favorite symptom of a heart attack its hilarious. so its smth abt the location probably? bro i feel like you should write down the numbers idk. 162830165049 564846474827. seems like the distortion? like the kinda thing that causes you to go crazy because of the numbers. oh boy is it the extinction again. bro what?? im?? his dad just died and he's like eh. martin dont be mean. he's being all lonely again. big man ur pushing ppl away. oh god its fucking squealy boy. ep 145: that almost sounds like breekon/hope... Arthur? agnes. aah was he from the lightless flame cult. a tree. lol he's just ranting rn. hehehe fuck landlords amirite. yay someone tells jon outright to go to therapy. now do it big man. ep 146: oh great! the distortion! i'm making a spiral themed building in mc right now! jon maybe accept you did a bad? nah this goes back to what i said before. they're fine with him compelling ppl when its convenient for them but otherwise its "no jon you cant, youre a monster jon" the tapes didnt turn on. i spose that means its not important? i agree with daisy, this seems unecessarily dangerous. ep 147: is that a tape? the first tape? well that went better than i expected tbh. BAHAKJASHDJKF she did the "can i call you jon" like nikola says "elias, can i call you elias?" damn annabelle is such a girlboss. oh! the one thing from the picrew. its been a while since ive connected smth to that. lol all the other avatars always talk abt their patron so lovingly and the jon just. absolutely hates the eye. ep 148: lol thats the most elias thing. "i just like the way it sounds" ep 149: did he disappear? bruhh. ur lonely powers are popping off i guess. oops i accidentally deleted my notes for 150 - 152 ep 153: thats the cult right? yeah. it doesnt sound like the church of the divine host? idk. if it is the church of the divine host then they worship the dark right? so is the eleventh the dark star or wtvr? it almost sounds like the corruption b/c of the oil or grease or whatever. oh dear what happened. oh its the hunters. theyre so annyoing. not an "it" he has a name. he's a person. is this a page from the skin book? ep 154: oh shit this is gerry's dad! oh shit he quit! oh dear god. jon don't you do it. haha martin. yeahhhh... is he gonna tell the others? cuz you know theyre gonna get mad if he doesnt. oh also picrew connection! the bandages over the eyes? yeah thats this im guessing. ep 155: oh good he told them. oh my god what did you do. lol i have no mouth and i must scream. nah you get none of my sympathy you're straight up murdering ppl. its like the desolation, destroying lives to sustain your own. ok but taking their statements doesnt

kill them. oh... bye melanie. ep 156: lmao imagine if the tape recorder spoke back. oh boy decker! i swear we got a statement from him already. oh god mirrors scary. They're gonna eat the body arent they. Yup... sounds like the flesh or the slaughter, but I'm not sure. Could be the extinction for sure. Smth at the center! Like Helen mentioned. God Peter you dick. Ep 157: peter's just so :/ another decker statement i see. a statement about the corruption? hmm. maybe its not abt the corruption. the extinction. lol pandemics. topical. John Amherst. helen? lol i can hear admiral purring in the background. oh cmon helen dont be like that. im trying real hard to like you but you make it so difficult. ep 158: did they fucking free the stranger? im gonna lose it. you absolute dumbass. im sorry who is that? jonah magnus? my guy. peter. you absolute dickhead. that's elias. (im p sure i had this spoiled for me that elias is jonah) oh dear this is her death. god peter you prick. i hope this is a pop off martin moment and not a "martin you idiot" moment. i hope the hunters kill the stranger entity. or she kills them. furry daisy pop off! yeah fuck you peter martin can make his own decisions. you know that clip from Twisted where jafar says "ok what the fuck was that" martin D: ok like i know its gonna work but still D: D: ep 159: peter you bitchboy. because if im alone i cant hurt anyone else. imnotgonnacryimnotgonnacryimnotgonnacry do it do it do it do it. pop off jon. ok its a pretty good idea for a ritual i gotta be honest. she didnt even have to blow it up lol. oh dear that was certainly a noise. "he gets you" did he not have jon already? he's back! our boy is back! awwww thats so cute. ep 160: oh right this is the thing in the safe house. i love him. "obviously im going to tell you if i see any good cows" martin my beloved <3 :)) oh boy who is this. fuckin. people. jonah you dick. gahh. you can tell he's trying to resist so hard lol. ohh. hehe keep an *eye* on him. altho if the extinction is a real thing he needs to be marked by that right? lol he sounds so intense im sorry- i want martin to just burst in and be like "look at this cow i saw!" its so dramatic and for why.

[iam-kenough]

Will you ever notice me? (Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character)

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 16

- I can't believe you are getting married, Marston. It's like pigs could fly - Iris chuckled, fixing John's tie. She should help at bride's tent but it was wild place to be since Mrs Grimshaw scolded everyone around, like it was matter of life and death, not happiest day of someone's life. So she decided to give an emotional support for groom, who was alone.

- Thank you for cheering me up - his voice was raspy - I am nervous as shit.

- Why? After all those years you are nervous to marry Abigail? - Iris threw him surprised look. She rested on clothes trunk, waving her legs in the air.

- She...she can still say no, right?

- You kidding me?! - Iris scoffed- You are made for each other! And I am happy to say I see you like this, it gives me hopes I'm gonna leave and marry someone properly.

- You mean Morgan? - he chuckled, 'cause it sounded ridiculous.

- Arthur? He would never marry someone, especially me! - Iris got the idea of what he was laughing about and smirked too.

- And where is he anyway?

- He said something about staying away from him so I won't spoil the surprise, he doesn't know what I'm gonna wear today.  Just like you don't know with Abigail!

- Oh God, just when I forgot for a second - he groaned, burrying face in hands.

- It looks like Reverend Swanson is ready - Iris said peeking out of the tent.

- S-should I go? - John gulped, getting up like he was about to faint and get back on the floor.

- Go and get her - Iris patted John's arm to encourage him.

She slipped out of tent and looked around. It was almost like mother nature knew it's gonna be wedding tonight. Air was warm and smelled like pines, there were decorations made from white roses (it took girls ages to accomplish something like this) and lanterns, giving their camp look almost like from fairy tale. They moved their tents and wagons to make room on the grass for drinking and sitting around campfire and dancing.

Iris was wearing very pretty and very atypical dress. When all Ladies of Van Der Linge gang went downtown to search for dresses they found this small Parisian shop they would never go to if it wasn't meant to be for Abigail's wedding sake. At first, when she saw that dress Iris wasn't sure if it was right for her but it fitted like glove. The top was tight and had straps crossing on her exposed back, when the bottom half was A shaped, giving her this princess look as it was going down to the ground, fabric folding nicely. It had dark rich green colour. Iris's hair was braided in crown around her head and she was wearing bold, red lips. Even if she felt in this dress like a fool at first, lady in the shop convinced her that if someone should try it out, as a new fashion trend, it was meant for Iris and her sweet arms to try.

Right after ceremony took place she tried to search for Arthur but she couldn't see him. Guess he got bored with me for today, she thought. But the evening with friends still seemed fun. After few drinks and toasts she started feeling urge to have a cigarette, so when she spotted Dutch sneaking out for one, she followed, bumping into him right after one of wagons.

- Evening, can I have one please? - she giggled, balancing herself with drink in hand.

- Sure, help yourself - Dutch gave her thoughtful smile. Iris joined him, leaning against the wagon.

- What a beautiful night. Makes me feel like I was normal or something - she smirked, lighting cig up.

- Aren't you? You probably coming next - Dutch pushed her a little using shoulder, with friendly manner.

- I don't think so. No one would have me, I talk to much making men roll their eyes back into their heads with boredom and irritation.

- Forgive me my being nosey but Arthur and you..? - Dutch mocked her.

- You must be joking and not knowing man you raised to think he would ever marry some crazy brat. I guess his just having fun with me, even if I thought it's love at first. No strings attached.

- I was almost sure you are basically living together so I assumed things - Dutch rolled his eyes.

- Look, I can tell you the difference. There is John, cuddling with his wife and having a beer together. And then there I am, having a cigarette with you, Dutch when Arthur is nowhere around me since the start of this party. That's difference between love and fun.

- I think you were hopeless romantic by the books you read and songs you are humming all days..? - he dragged onto his cigarette.

- It's just books - she waved it away - Life isn't like this, especially ours! I am no good girl who's gonna get the best husband picked by her daddy. So I am holding onto something what makes me happy, even if it's silly.

- I really misjudged you then - Dutch said with mysterious smile playing on his lips as he left her to have the rest of cigarette alone. Iris was making small circles with smoke, looking into starry sky. She kinda felt dumb for thinking that Arthur would care about some stupid romance when it was his brother's wedding day. Because that what it was, silly. She started humming a song she overheard from campfire and her legs were tapping a rythm. She wasn't even thinking about being alone in the dark while others had fun.

- Hey, you - Arthur appeared from nowhere, which made Iris jump up with fear. He was wearing suit, and was clean shaved. It made Iris's heart skip a beat too.

- Jesus, I think it's heart attack - she hissed, hand agaist her chest.

- You hiding away from me? - he murmured into her ear and purred slightly - How dare you hide away when you look like this?

Arthur wasn't waiting long to drag her to the tent. He kicked apart her ankles and pulled dress up, just to soon after that rock her brain, pinning her doggy style against the trunks, pulling out successful quicky with her without being noticed as gone or disappeared.  After all happened, Arthur turned Iris around and kissed on the temple, like he always did after rough sex.

- I-I love you - she exclaimed as she paced, burrowed in his arms. Iris was almost sure she never said it out loud before, she was just thinking this deep inside. Girl blushed, hiding face away from him, burrying it in the croock of Arthur's neck. So it was kind of confession in this crazy relationship.

- 'Fcourse you do, you are the most naive and pure creature I had met - he caressed her cheek with dark chuckle - No one else would be crazy enough to fall in love with me.

He didn't say he loves her back, Iris thought. That's sad.

- You are just lovable, I think it's that - she blushed briefly.

- Lovable? - he bursted into laugh, which made Iris head vibrate when her temple rested against his skin - I would never let myself fall in love with someone who's careless and cold like me.

Iris bursted into laugh too, he was kind of right. Arthur was an outlaw, dangerous and ruthless one, who was risking his life actively almost everyday for last 20 years or so. What he was saying made sense, but Iris felt little pin poking her heart, because that meant she also isn't on the best page in his records. She was cold and careless too.

- I think we should go - she whispered, trying to hold chuckle so she won't be looking like hurt idiot she just were - I'm sure everyone around noticed we're not there.

As they left the tent she noticed people are dancing in pairs, or thirds, laughing and fooling around. Iris decided to push her luck and ask Arthur if he would consider dancing with her a little. He was never much of a dancer and she usually were turned down by Arthur, even when Dutch's phonograph was playing something nice and slow, so they could just cuddle and rock to the tact. Iris turned around to say something but he weren't there, she bumped into someone instead.

-

I was searching for you everywhere - Mary-Beth squeezed her tight, amortising bump - I kind of fancy a dance with my little friend.

- Oh, that's very nice proposition! - Iris let Mary-Beth kiss her hand, pretending she's a man inviting her friend to dance.

- M'lady - Mary-Beth chuckled. She was beautiful tonight, Iris thought. Romantic dress in baby blue color suited her blond, curly hair and rosy complexion. Real lady.

They were dancing together, giggling and throwing each other looks like they tried to seduce each other. Mary-Beth was nice and warm and for short amount of time Iris was thinking that she wouldn't mind being with a woman somehow. Then they heard a gunshot and everyone froze in place.

It was matter of seconds as Iris understood what just happened. They were attacked, someone had to snitch camp was having a party tonight to hit at the moment they were most vunurable, drunk and dressed well, not fitting for a fight. Mary-Beth suddenly felt heavier in girl's arms and when she noticed hole between her eyes she screamed in panic. That bullet was meant for Iris and that was more than sure. Another gunshot and bullet flying above her head. She felt to the ground.

The terror begin, everyone throw themselves behind trunks, barrels and wagons. Iris stayed on the ground, crawling towards nearest cover, Mary-Beth's blood dripping down her face as it was on Iris's cheek. She crawled inside her tent and started grabing the most necessary things. It was mostly money, 'cause in this situation Iris considered that there might be an option that tonight she's gonna lose all her belongings. Part of them were on horse, guns attached to saddle, she had there winter clothes too.

Iris smelled burning wood and she bursted out of tent, with revolver in her hands. Pinkertons set they things on fire and her tent was the closest one to start burning. Iris was running around the camp, ditching bullets. Arthur, where was he?

- Arthur! Arthur Morgan! - she screamed at the top of their lungs. Suddenly she felt grip around her neck, as one of Pinkertons started choking her. She knocked him out by smashing his nose with back of her head. She felt like dress on her was ripping apart with her every move, not being very suitable for fighting man.

- Arthur! - she yelled in histeria, not sure if anyone heard her. Then she jumped in place as in front of her someone threw fire bottle and it cut her ways out, splashing oil leaving small marks on her skin. It was burning on her flesh.

Iris looked around, not being sure what to do. All she wanted was to feel Arthur's calloused hand and hear his furious voice. But life chosed for her, as all she could do was jump on her horse, which was neighing in terror and run, saving them both, or get shot burning in flammable oil at the same time. She tripped over her dress, tearing it completely and made her choice. With mad tears in her eyes she started galloping through the night. She's gonna find him tomorrow, it was better than get killed and not seeing him anymore again.

***

After hours of running away and taking random paths just to keep lawman off her back Iris was wrecked. She couldn't collect her head yet to analyse what just happened. If there was time she would look around the people faces. Snitch obviously wasn't there with them at time ambushed happened. Iris rested her head against horses mane and begin to sob. All she knew that she's parted from everyone she knew and it wasn't even sure they are still alive. Iris brushed it off, Arthur would never die such stupid death, girl knew him. Tomorrow she will run back and search for him under every rock on her path. She suddenly heard voices coming from the distance and galloping horses. On the road nearby there were lawmen, searching through area. Iris wasn't far enough, she thought. There is half state after her even if she paid her bounties on time. So she stirred up her horse and continued on galloping, in hope this night the hounds won't find the foxes.

Going north was here only choice. No one was crazy enough to go to far out there, as the snow was deep and avalanches could kill one just like that. But after all Iris was growing up there. She could handle it, right?

[not-close-to-straight]

More Than Words (Ten)

This chapter requires tissues and the obligatory TW of (temporary, because it’s Wade and because we have 19 more chapters) Character Death. Also beneath the cut cos it’s a little difficult to read and I don’t want anyone randomly scrolling to be upset. 

Tissues! (seriously) And if you don’t 100% hate me after reading, I’d love to hear what you think because I sort of love the end sequence! 

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

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Wade didn’t think he would make it home to the cabin. 

He must have faded in and out of living a half dozen times, blacking out and coming back to himself with a scream, every breath agony, the weight of the lion at his back terrifying. 

Somehow, the Alpha got a hold of his hunting knife, somehow he wrenched his arm back far enough to slash through the muscle and sinew in the predators foreleg and make the beast scream in anger. It shifted its weight in a split second of shock and Wade took the knife in his other hand, heaving himself to the side and using the momentum to hack up and into whatever he could reach. 

He couldn’t see through the red dripping into his eyes, could barely stand with one thigh shredded nearly to bone, but Wade still struggled to his feet, still pressed a hand to his torn side and staggered off in the direction of the cabin, bloody prints marring the snow with stuttered, sluggish prints. 

He didn’t know if the cat was still behind him or if he’d wounded the creature beyond repair. All the Alpha could think about was getting home to his mate, to his Omega, making sure Peter was alright because that was the only thing that ever mattered. 

He would heal, he always healed, he would heal and he would be fine but Peter would be alone in the cabin, alone and probably frightened----

“Pete.” Wade meant to yell, he meant to shout but the word came as nothing more than a wheeze, a desperate pant as he stumbled past the trees at the edge of the clearing. “P--Pete-- my mate--” 

“Wade!” 

Peter was too pale, leaning on the door frame as if he could barely stand on his own, and through the stink of blood and his own pain Wade could feel the terror from his mate, could almost feel the way Peter was shaking, sore and confused.

He felt it, felt the attack.

“Wade! Alpha!” the Omega ran to meet Wade, and then there were soft soft hands at his face, a panicked sob when his legs gave out and Peter nearly collapsed under his bulk. “Oh no no no, please. Please my mate, don’t do this. What happened, what happened to you? No no no, please. Wade? Wade!” 

The last thing Wade saw was his mate’s eyes flood with tears, spill down over gorgeous freckles and onto beautiful, bite reddened lips. 

“...Pete.” 

“Wade?” Peter’s voice pitcher in terror, clanging sharp against Wade’s ears as he spiraled towards darkness. “No no no, don't close your eyes! Don’t close your eyes! WADE!” 

***************

It took a level of strength Peter didn’t know he possessed to get the Alpha out of the cold and into the cabin. Wade was practically massive, thick limbs and solid muscles and when he was unconscious, all that mass was simply deadweight, heavier than Peter by almost a hundred pounds. 

The Omega struggled and strained through every step, hooked his hands under his Alpha’s shoulders and dragged Wade through the door and over to the fireplace where it was warm. Peter couldn’t look at the smear of red left on the cabin floor, so he set Wade’s head down as gently as he could before running for blankets, blinking tears away as he went. 

No no no, my Alpha. Not this, please not this. 

He needed blankets, right? Blankets and towels and wait--the wash basin needed filled first and oh no, the pot above the fireplace. That needed to be filled first and set to boiling so he could disinfect rags for a compress. Rags had to disinfected, right? But first he should make sure Wade was comfortable, that was more important. A pillow maybe, or no no no wait he should try to stop the bleeding first, he had to stop the bleeding first---

“Focus.” Peter dragged his fingers through his hair and then recoiled in horror when he realized they were stained with Wade’s blood. “Oh my god-- oh my god---” 

He was sick into the wash basin immediately, and fuck now that needed to be cleaned before he could fill it again and oh Jesus he did not know what to do.” 

“Focus.” the word was a whimper. “Focus, Peter. Come on. Okay okay okay.” the Omega forced a steadying breath, then another and another. In through the nose and out through the mouth, in through the nose and out through the mouth until he wasn’t shaking quite as badly. “I can do this. One step at a time.”

I can’t do this.

“I’m here.” Peter whispered to Wade’s still form, over the doubt circling in his mind. “I’m here, I can do this. I can help Alpha. I can--” he closed his eyes and clenched his fists, willing away the last of the pain that had hit so suddenly before, the lingering migraine from when he’d passed out on the cabin floor. 

It had obviously been a reaction to Wade being attacked, their souls linked so tightly that they shared pain and even though the migraine was nearly blinding, Peter still managed a tiny smile. 

He was hurt because his mate was hurt, and if that wasn’t proof they were meant to be together, nothing was.

“I can do this.” He repeated, ad it was a little stronger this time, the reminder of their bond settling his scattered mind. “I-- I can do this.” 

“Stay with me, Alpha. Stay with me.” Peter managed to fill the pot at the fireplace despite the still lingering tremor in his hands, and then he grabbed one of the extra sheets from the basket by the bed to tear into strips. Fingers at Wade’s pulse and the Omega choked back a grateful sob when he could still feel a weak heartbeat. “Okay my love, I dunno what I’m doing but I’m gonna try anyway okay? Hold on.” 

It was impossible not to cry as Peter poured first water and then a measure of Wade’s moonshine over the would at the Alpha’s side. He didn’t know much about first aid, but he knew that alcohol cleaned wounds and he hoped Wade’s healing factor would negate any damage to surrounding tissue and muscle. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered when Wade seized up in pain, the Alpha’s body contorting in an effort to twist away from the burn. “I’m so so sorry, I’m just trying to help. Stay still, Alpha my Alpha, stay still.” 

Peter cleaned the gouges with the warmer water from the pot until it ran clean into the cracks of the floor and then he gently gently wrapped the bedsheet around Wade’s abdomen, pushing the fabric beneath the Alpha’s back and pulling it out the other side until Wade was wrapped tight. 

The gouge at Wade’s thigh had stopped bleeding already and Peter didn’t know if that was good or bad, but he was grateful for any reprieve, and made quick work of scrubbing away the dried remnants to see where the cut began and ended before cleaning it with alcohol and water again. 

This time Wade barely twitched and Peter held a compress to the gash while he felt again for a pulse, cursing when it was even weaker than before. “Stay with me, love.” he begged. “Oh please, hold on for me. I can’t do this without you.” 

There was a myriad of smaller cuts on Wade’s arms and shoulders and the Omega leaned in and lay a shaky kiss on one that had already healed in the time it had taken Wade to escape the cat and make it to the cabin. He cleaned the others as best he could, ripped pieces from the sheet to wrap Wade’s torn hands and up his forearms, and when all that was finished, Peter set to work pulling Wade’s boots off and cutting what remained of the Alpha’s trousers away. 

The clothes couldn’t be saved, they’d require more sewing and material than Peter had on hand and he doubted the blood would ever come out. Even if the clothes came clean, he’d never be able to look at them again without remembering his Alpha bleeding out on the floor and--

Nope, can’t do that.

The clothes would be rolled in the ash from the fireplace and buried in the clearing so no other predators would be attracted to the smell, and once the sheets came off Wade’s injury, those would be buried as well. 

He never wanted to see them again. 

A pillow under the Alpha’s head, a bundle of blankets beneath the hurt leg, and Peter checked Wade’s pulse one more time before finally stepping away to wipe the blood from his palms and under his fingernails. 

His tongue hurt from biting it so hard as he worked, the tremble in his hands had spread clear through to his core and as the Omega tried to clean up the mess near the door, this time he didn’t bother to quiet his sobs. 

Tears mingled with the boiling water from the fireside pot and wet the rags with the rest of Wade’s blood, dripped onto the back of Peter’s hands as he scrubbed, burned in his eyes along with the fumes of moonshine as he poured the high-proof alcohol into the wooden slats to erase the reddened stain. The air was thick with the smell of looming death, Wade’s cedar and licorice scent buried beneath the stomach churning stink of despair and Peter-- 

-- Peter didn’t know what else to do. 

He couldn’t leave Wade alone to get help in Haven, and even if Peter could ride Arthur or Bea, he had no way of knowing whether the pass down the mountain was open or not. There wasn’t even a way to get word to Bruce and somehow hope the Doctor could make it up the slopes to their cabin in time to help. 

The ibuprofen in his pack could be crushed and mixed with water, poured down the Alpha’s throat to combat any fever but it might already be too late for that sort of thing, or Wade’s healing factor might cancel anything the medicine would do, which would make it a wasted effort.

The wounds on Wade’s shoulder already healing was a good sign and Peter clung to that tendril of hope with his entire heart, even as makeshift bandaging turned scarlet over the deeper wounds and the Omega knew in his soul Wade wasn’t healing fast enough. 

He could keep the fire going all day and all night, there was plenty of wood and plenty of kindling so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. The goat had already been milked for the day, the chickens and horses taken care of only a few minutes before Peter had returned to the cabin and then collapsed when Wade was attacked, so chores were done at least until morning. 

Peter could concentrate on cleaning up the cabin, on keeping Wade comfortable, on making sure there was always hot water around to disinfect the next round of bandages. There was one more sheet that could be torn to strips and then the Omega would use the more worn out of their clothing, Wade didn’t actually keep much moon shine on hand, but there was enough for a second round of disinfecting in case an infection set in. 

Peter could have sold his soul for a proper first aid kit with gauze and disinfectant and supplies for stitches, but even as he wished for better tools, he knew it was a moot point. 

He didn’t know what to do, and the overwhelming helplessness of the entire situation sent Peter back to the wash basin on his knees, gagging and heaving as he was sick all over again. 

He didn’t know what to do. Wade was lying there maybe healing, possibly dying and Peter didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to sew a wound shut even if he had the needle and thread, and other than keeping pressure on the deepest cuts, he didn’t know where to go beyond the first rudimentary bandages. 

Two months Peter had lived in this timeline and other than the initial panic attack, he hadn’t worried a single whit about how he would survive. Any insecurity was hushed by Wade’s expertise, any worry rushed away by the Alpha’s reassurance of age and experience and Peter had grown comfortable, maybe even confident in his new found life. 

But now his Alpha was unconscious, barely breathing and steadily bleeding through the bandages. His scars were too pronounced on too pale skin, not even the sunshine through the windows and the firelight able to bring a healthy color to his face.The broad chest Peter loved to snuggle up against was rising and falling only barely, the thick arms limp and powerful legs useless. 

Peter didn’t know what to do, and for the first time since that first, fateful day, Wade wasn’t able to help. 

I’m sorry, Alpha. I’m sorry I don’t know what else to do. 

Peter carried the wash basin outside and washed the sick from it, rubbing snow around the bowl and scrubbing at it with a piece of soap, swishing alcohol around it for good measure. The simple chore and the bracing cold helped to settle his mind and gave him a break from the awfulness of everything in side, but even as he gulped in deep breaths of clean air, Peter didn’t dare linger too long. 

Back inside, Wade was still and pale and Peter dragged the chair up close to the Alpha’s frame, then settled cross legged on the floor and lifted his mate’s head up into his lap. Careful careful fingers down Wade’s cheekbones and along the sharply defined jaw, and Peter lingered over the barely there pulse for a long minute before flattening his palm over Wade’s heart and closing his eyes. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

“Stay with me, Alpha.” he whispered. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.Thump-thump. 

“I can’t do this without you.” Peter tried hard not to cry again. “I mean it. I really can’t do this without you. The goat is too ornery, I can’t handle her alone, she hates me.” 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

“And besides.” He leaned far over to bump their noses together gently. “I’ve gotten entirely too spoiled sleeping next to you every night. I’m not going to go back to sleeping alone in that big bed, I refuse.” 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“We already decided I won’t be shoveling snow, so you’ve gotta wake up at least for that.” He tried to smile, though Wade’s eyes weren’t open to see it. “And I know I’m getting better at chopping kindling but I dunno if I can even lift that axe out there, so you know… hurry and wake up so I don’t have to try it alone.” 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“I’ve got to put another log on the fire, stay right here.” Sometime later, Peter eased out from beneath Wade to stoke the fire up. The room was almost stifling, but the Alpha was shivering, cold and clammy and Peter tried hard not to panic when he felt Wade’s forehead. “Oh no. Oh shit, you’re too hot. You need to cool down. I don’t um--” he shook his head. “Okay hold on. Hold on, my mate. I’ll get some snow.” 

It didn’t feel right to lay snow soaked rags on Wade’s neck and down his chest, but Peter did it anyway, muffling a distressed whimper when the Alpha started shivering harder. “I’m so sorry, I'm so sorry I don’t know how to do this better.” 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said again once he was back holding his mate, his hand steady over Wade’s heart. “I don’t know what you’d do in this situation, but I feel like you’d be better than me. I have--” tears, and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. “--I have never felt more helpless in my entire life.” 

Morning fell into afternoon, and afternoon slid right into evening, the hours passing without the Omega noticing. Peter only moved from Wade’s side to re-dip cold rags or stoke the fire, only took his hand off his mate’s pulse and heartbeat to try and coax a few sips of water down the Alpha’s throat. Peter’s butt went numb and his legs fell asleep, every vertebrae in his back aching with the effort of being hunched over for so long, but still the Omega sat on the hard floor and held his mate. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He tried to talk to fill the silence, part of him hoping Wade would hear his voice and come back to consciousness, the other part of him afraid if the cabin went quiet, Wade’s heartbeat would go quiet too. 

Peter talked about his friends, talked about Auntie May, talked about the article he’d written that had led to him receiving the grant. He whispered stories about modern life and all the things Wade would never believe about the twenty-first century, chuckled through recitations of his favorite part of terrible comedies, pondered aloud the differences between Wade and the Alphas he knew back home, questioned how different his life would be if the seventies and eighties hadn’t been rife with Omega led protests for equality. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Exhaustion hung oppressive over the Omega’s shoulders but Peter fought to keep his eyes open, not willing to miss a single breath, a single blink, any sort of sign that Wade was recovering. The scrapes that had healed earlier had already deepened into new scars and Peter concentrated on tracing the new lines, learning and relearning their contours in an effort to stay awake. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Sleep was an unwanted mercy, and Peter cursed out loud every time he jerked awake and realized he had drifted. He rushed to check Wade’s heart, to feel along the cuts, to check the bandages for fresh blood and sat up straighter, sipped at ice cold water to shock his system alert and talked even louder for as long as he could. 

Sleep was an unwanted mercy, inevitable and needed and eventually the Omega’s head fell forward and his eyes stayed shut after too long a blink. The stars were out by now, the moon high in the sky and while the well fed fire crackled behind the grate, Peter gave in to slumber after nineteen hours of desperate vigil. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump--

…

…

Peter stirred as the sun was barely rising over the horizon. The fire was nothing more than coals, the cabin almost uncomfortably warm despite the freezing temperatures outside and the Alpha in his arms was--

“Wade?” Peter rubbed at his eyes then pressed hard over his mate’s heart, searched for a pulse at the Alpha’s throat and down at Wade’s wrist, leaned over and listened for any rattling breath, strained to see the rise and fall of Wade’s chest. 

No no no.

 “....Alpha…?” 

No.

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[cupcakezys]

A Letter From The Heart, A Window To The Soul.

Just a little something I got inspired to write out of no where. I have no idea where from, but I hope you enjoy. :)

Pairing: Arthur/Leon

Read on AO3.

“Come on sire, we really must get you to bed or else you’ll be awful to deal with in the morning.”

Arthur grunted but didn’t look up from what he was writing. “I could have you thrown in the dungeons for talking to me like that.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “See, you’re already grouchy. Imagine how much worse it’s going to be in the morning.”

Arthur huffed and stood, finally moving behind his changing screen to pull on his sleep clothes. Merlin busied himself with turning down the bed, and once that was done, he collected Arthur’s clothes from where he had thrown them. Honestly, was it too much to ask that he hang them over the screen like a normal person? He could at least throw them all into one pile, rather than all over the place.

Arthur ignored his grumbling and folded the parchment neatly, though he didn’t bother sealing it. Merlin glanced at it curiously, and visibly startled when Arthur held it out to him.

“Deliver this to Sir Leon before you go to bed tonight.”

Merlin grabbed it, eyeing it curiously. “What’s it about?”

“Not that it’s any of your business Merlin.” Arthur said, pointedly staring at where Merlin was trying – and failing – to subtly open the letter. “But I’m changing the knight’s training routine tomorrow.”

Merlin scrunched up his nose and stopped trying to peek inside. “Why are you changing it again? It’s only been two weeks since you last changed it.”

“To keep the knights on their toes.” Arthur said as he fell into bed.

Merlin muttered something vaguely insulting under his breath as he blew out all the candles, pretending he didn’t see the way Arthur mock glared at him. Once he was done he gave an exaggerated bow, clasping the note to his chest with both hands.

“If that is all, sire?” He asked, still bent almost in two.

There was a shuffling of fabric as Arthur moved, and then a laugh as he caught sight of him. Merlin glanced up, just barely able to make out Arthur in the dark, and laughed as well.

“Goodnight Merlin.”  

“Goodnight Arthur.” Merlin whispered, slipping out the door.

The two guards at Arthur’s door nodded to him, and Merlin waved back as he hurried down the corridor, eager to get to Leon’s chambers and deliver Arthur’s note. As soon as he handed it over he was going to run straight to bed and throw himself under the covers, and he wouldn’t get up until morning, not even if Camelot found itself under attack in the middle of the night. Again.

He knocked on Leon’s door, stifling a yawn as he waited.

Leon opened the door and greeted him with a yawn of his own, surprise written all over his face. “Merlin?”

Merlin grinned and waved. “Hi, Sir Leon. His royal highness wanted me to give you this.”

Leon blinked owlishly at the letter being offered to him, and then a pleased smile spread across his face. “Thank you Merlin.”

Merlin snorted. “Don’t thank me before you read it. Arthur said he was changing your training again.”

Merlin refrained from rolling his eyes, if only because Leon was already looking at him strangely, probably because he had used Arthur’s name so freely. Which, considering not once in the past year had Merlin bothered with actually using or respecting any of the various titles nobles used, least of all the ones Arthur used, shouldn’t be that surprising. Merlin had called Arthur worse names, though that was only because Arthur deserved it.

Leon studied him closely and Merlin forced himself to stand still and not fidget nervously. He never could figure out where he stood with Sir Leon. Sometimes, he would laugh at his jokes and treat him almost like a friend, though mostly he was ignored and treated like any other servant. It was only rarely that he looked at him like this, and only ever when the prince was the topic of conversation.

“Well!” Merlin said loudly, not able to stand Leon’s scrutiny a second longer. “I had best be getting to bed. Arthur’s a grouch in the morning, and I want as much rest as I can get before I have to face him.”

Leon snorted, startling Merlin slightly. “Oh, trust me, I know how much Arthur hates the mornings.”

Merlin leaned forward curiously. “Oh?”

Leon yawned again, covering his mouth with the letter. “I’ve been on enough early morning patrols with him to know. I wish you luck in the morn, Merlin.”

“Thanks.” Merlin said, grinning. “I’m going to need it.”

///

That had been the first time Merlin had delivered a letter of Arthur’s to his second in command. It was, as Merlin soon discovered, far from the last.

“Merlin.” Arthur called, holding out a folded letter for the seventh night in a row.

Merlin sighed but grabbed the letter, wondering what Arthur would tell him was in it this time. “Tell me again why I’m doing this?”

“Because it’s your job?” Arthur replied, already wrapped up in his blankets. “Just go.”

Merlin huffed but obediently made his way to the door. “I don’t remember your father appointing me as your messenger boy.”

Arthur groaned dramatically. “Shut up Merlin. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Merlin slammed the door shut loudly in retaliation, silently amused when the guards didn’t even glance in his direction. It was hardly the first time Merlin had slammed Arthur’s doors, after all.

Leon answered on the first knock, like he’d been waiting right at the door for him. He looked eager, already reaching for the letter in Merlin’s hands. It made him wonder what was in the letters, really, because there was no way anyone got this excited over waving a metal stick around. Not even Arthur and Leon were this excited for training.

It made Merlin want to peek inside a letter, just to see what could possibly be in them, but he knew that would be a huge breach of Arthur’s trust. Merlin could never bring himself to do it, no matter how much his curiosity ate away at him.

“Thank you Merlin.” Leon said, already closing his door.

“Wait!” Merlin called, jerking forwards before he was even aware of what he was doing. Leon turned back to him expectantly. “Umm, it’s just… the letters. What’s in them?”

Leon’s immediately stilled, and Merlin thought he caught a glimpse of panic in his eyes  before it was hidden away. “I’m afraid that’s between me and the prince, Merlin. Now, goodnight.”

The door shut heavily in his face, and Merlin huffed. It was hardly the rudest dismissal he’d ever gotten, but he thought it was a bit much. He’d only asked.

He made his way back to his bed, mind buzzing even as his body tried to convince him to lie on the floor so he could sleep sooner. He had made it all the way back to his room and collapsed on his bed when he remembered he’d left Arthur’s armour in his room, dirty and unpolished. He groaned in despair, only considering leaving it for a moment. There was no way he’d get away with it – Arthur would have his head, and Merlin didn’t fancy an afternoon in the stocks.

He heaved himself out of bed, forcing himself to walk quietly through the castle. The various guards he saw didn’t bat an eye at seeing him, despite the late hour. Merlin was thankful for that at least. The fewer interruptions he he had to deal with, the better.

He was halfway through pushing open the servant’s entrance when he realised the candles had been relit and there was a faint whisper of voices coming from the direction of Arthur’s bed. He froze, one foot and half his head inside the room, his heart pounding as he debated just closing the door and leaving. Whatever was going on here, Merlin did not want to know about it.

Unfortunately, his eyes were already turning to the bed, and Merlin had just enough time to realise how very dead he was before he met the eyes of his very embarrassed best friend.

The embarrassment quickly turned to fury as Merlin’s eyes kept looking past the prince and found a very uncomfortable looking Leon. Shirtless, he realised, with a rather obvious love bite on his neck.

And Merlin, in his own discomfort, decided that rather than run or apologise, he’d simply blurt out; “So this is what those letters were about.”

He grimaced as soon as he asked and Arthur’s gaze turned murderous. He made to slip back out of the room, but an angry hiss of his name made him pause. He closed his eyes and sent a quick prayer to the gods for Arthur to be merciful.

He stepped back into the room, eyes on the floor, and leaned against the door. And this time, he managed to keep his traitorous mouth shut.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked, voice dangerously low.

Merlin’s eyes flickered to the armour piled near the banked fire. “Your armour, sire. I forgot to clean it.”

He refused to look up, partly because he didn’t want to see the anger on Arthur’s face and partly because he wanted to offer them both as much privacy as he could.

“Arthur.” He heard Leon murmur. “You trust him.”

He heard Arthur sigh and risked a glance up. Arthur was glaring at the floor, arms crossed and a small frown on his face. To anyone else, he might seem angry and closed off. To Merlin, his expression screamed of embarrassment and fear.

Merlin stepped forward. “Arthur, you know I’d never do anything to betray you.”

Arthur stared at him, searching, and Merlin let him look without flinching.

He only broke eye contact to quietly mumble; “You’re my friend.”

A hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed, causing Merlin to look up. Arthur was still clearly embarrassed, but the fear was gone, and Merlin relaxed.

“Thank you Merlin.” Arthur squeezed his shoulder one last time before he let go. He cleared his throat, and pointedly looked at the door. “You can go. I’m sure my armour will be fine for tonight.”

Merlin ducked his head. “Of course. Goodnight Arthur.” He glanced up at the bed briefly. “Leon.”

The knight nodded, somehow as proper as ever. “Goodnight Merlin.”

He was halfway out the door when Arthur spoke up again. “Oh, and Merlin? I hardly need to tell you that this stays between us, I’m sure?”

If this were any other situation Merlin would have rolled his eyes. “Of course not sire, I’m not stupid.”

Arthur gave him a look full of doubt, and Merlin laughed quietly, glad that they were so easily back to normal. His grin turned teasing as he grabbed the door.

“Of course, if either of you need me to deliver more letters-“

He didn’t get to finish as a pillow flew at him. He laughed and ducked behind the door. He made a mental note to grab two breakfasts from the kitchen in the morning – he had a feeling he would be waking up two knights come morning.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Sixteen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Time Will Take It’s Toll

Inhaling a breath had her coughing into her arm for a few moments and clearing her throat. The explosion had knocked the wind out of her, and her lungs were still complaining about it. Her leg was starting to ache from all the running and how she’d fallen, too.

She’d managed to slip away from the men shortly after they realised the explosion hadn’t killed her, scattering to try and find where she’d gone. She’d just sat there for a little while, regaining control of her breathing, of her pounding heart, then got up and run.

He’s been looking for me.

Sniffing and lifting her head, Ada let Mags walk idly down the main and only street of Van Horn. It was, as always, quiet. A couple of men sat on the porch outside a shop, talking and smoking. A man lay by the water, sat up against a rock, asleep.

Sadie waved to her from outside the bar, her mustard coloured shirt acting like a beacon amongst the dark and dinginess of the town, and Ada raised her hand in greeting.

“You okay?” the older woman asked as she approached, gently pulling Mags to a stop.

“Yeah. Some idiot thought playing with dynamite would be fun, though.”

“Yeah, I heard. Was gonna come back to see if you were alive but I thought you’d be fine.”

Ada laughed, inclining her head. “Yeah, well, I seem to be. Think I’ve got some dust in my chest but what’s new.”

Sadie nodded her head in the direction of the saloon doors. “Want to get a drink?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Here, are you kidding me?”

Sadie smiled as she pushed her hat onto her head and mounted her horse. “Thought you might say that.”

 “Hey, hey, wait a second!”

The two women turned to the calling voice, Ada stiffening, Sadie arching an eyebrow. A man narrowed his eyes at them, his hands on his hips as he stood from the bench where he’d been talking with another man.

“Yeah?” Sadie answered.

“That’s my horse!”

Ada answered this time, relieved. “No, it isn’t.”

“Yeah, it is,” the man insisted, his voice cracking. “That’s Louisa!”

“No, it ain’t,” Sadie drawled.

“Yes, it is, now you give her back, you damn wh—”

The women settled their hands on their guns.

The man froze, glanced at the weapons, then smiled quickly.

“Y-yeah, I guess not, sorry, my eyes ain’t so good,” he laughed nervously, lowering back down onto the bench.

“That’s all right, friend, no harm done,” Ada called cheerily, realising faintly that Arthur had said nearly those exact words several times.

Well, look at me.

Sadie chuckled as they rode out of the tiny town, shaking her head. “I love people sometimes.”

Ada snorted. “All right, I feel a little bad.”

“Don’t. He called her Louisa, that’s reason enough for him not to have her.”

“What do you have against the name Louisa?”

“Nothin’, just a dumb name for a horse.”

—

Charles came back for them all an hour or so after she and Sadie returned, safe and fine, and he reassured her so was Arthur.

Ada dismounted Mags, stroking the horse’s neck gently as her eyes scanned their new home. Well... The new camp would have to do, no matter what she thought, and she thought it wasn’t much of a home anymore. She’d arrived a little behind the others, just in case they’d been followed, so they’d had some time to set up but... It seemed no one had taken the care they used to in doing so. Tents and tables were set up but nothing more, the wagons hadn’t been unpacked properly and she couldn’t place that down to lack of time or people as everyone was either sat or lying down.

They expect to move on soon, she realised, very soon.

Her gaze found Arthur’s as she approached where he had been talking with Dutch, and he moved towards her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered, smiling at the sight of him. He’d shaved, thank God.

“Not much, is it?” He’d clearly had the same thoughts.

“It’ll do, I suppose.” Her arms wrapped around his waist as his went around her, holding her close.

“Are you okay?” she murmured, her fingers stroking his back.

“Yeah. You were righ’, they’re strange folks, those Murfrees.” 

She snorted. “You’re damn right.”

A corner of his mouth twisted up before he lowered his head and captured her lips in a kiss she knew they both needed. It lingered, deepening as his arms tightened around her. She smiled against his lips, half-heartedly trying to draw her head back.

“Arthur...”

“Lot of caves down there, lots of secret passages...”

She arched an eyebrow as his lips went to her cheek, unable to stop a smile. “If you think I’m gonna be able to relax in those caves after what Charles told me...”

“I can make you forget all that, though...”

“Stop it...” she laughed, trying to turn her head away from his sinful lips even as her stomach tightened at the thought. It had been so long since they’d been alone, all she’d had when he was away was thoughts and memories and—

“Hey.”

They both stiffened, their heads lifting as Arthur automatically half-turned his back to shield her.

Molly, Christ, Molly, came stumbling down the path. If she hadn’t clearly been drunk Ada would have thought she'd spent the last few weeks living in luxury with her skin and clothes being clean and neat and her hair perfect.

“So, Dutch!” she called out, “Did ye miss me?!” She stumbled closer to them, Dutch only a few feet away. Ada glanced at him, finding his features stony.

“I found her, drunk in Saint Denis,” Uncle was explaining somewhat apologetically, trying to keep up with her.

“You’re back. How jolly, Miss O’Shea,” Dutch retorted sarcastically, stepping closer.

“It’s ‘Molly’, you sack of shit!” she cried, rage pouring out of her.

“Back and drunk.”

“Who made you the master, the Lord Almighty!”

“Molly, calm down,” he demanded as she waved her arms around.

The gang had gathered now, everyone staring and not knowing what to do, Ada included. She felt Arthur beside her, silent and tense.

“I won’t be ignored, Dutch van der Linde! I hear all ye conversations! I hear all ye whisperin’! But I won’t be ignored! I aren’t him!” She pointed at Bill. “Thick as shit but would probably turn ye over in a heartbeat!” She turned, swaying, and pointed at Mary-Beth who looked so distraught. “I ain’t her! Ye’re little whore!” Then, she turned to Ada, pointing at her. “And I ain’t her, ye bloody O’Driscoll, thinkin’ ye’re holy than thou!” 

Ada felt her heart drop into her stomach as she stared at her, a terrified coldness sweeping over her body. Molly just turned to Dutch. “I ain’t any of your stooges!”

“Calm yourself, miss!” Dutch was angry now, truly angry.

“You don’t owe me nothin’!” She was squaring up to him now. “I don’t owe you nothin’! Nothin’! Even though I did all ye’re dirty work!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, suddenly trying to calm her as much as himself, probably.

She wasn’t having it as she turned away. “I’d spit in yer eye!” Then, she turned back, pointing at him and looking as if something just suddenly came to her. “I did! I told them!” she shouted.

The mood shifted very sharply.

“I’m sorry?” Dutch hissed, staring at her.

“Yeah, I told ‘em! And I’d tell ‘em again! Now I’ve got God’s ear!”

“You told who what?” he demanded, thunderous.

“Mr Milton and Mr Ross,” she practically trilled, waving her hand, “about the bank robbery, and I wanted them to kill ye!” She thrust her finger at him.

Something inside Ada twisted sharply.

It wasn’t her fault. Because of Molly, Lenny and Hosea had died and John had been captured... She wanted to yell at her, to kick and scratch and scream, but... she just couldn’t bring herself to hate her. She pitied her too much.

Dutch, though...

“You did what?!” He drew his gun with an anger she had never seen before, and aimed it at Molly.

“I loved you, you God damn bastard!” she shouted, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Go on, shoot me!”

Ada heard Arthur murmuring to Dutch, a hand on his shoulder, but she couldn’t look, couldn’t look away from Molly.

“She’s crazy,” Arthur was saying quietly, trying to push Dutch’s gun down, “She ain’t worth it.”

“You told on me?! You betrayed me?!” Dutch was shouting but Molly was barely listening, staring at him and talking over him, elated, “Oh, you’re not so big now, are ye?”

“Quiet!” Arthur commanded her before murmuring to Dutch, “Just calm down.”

Dutch’s gaze darted to him.

“She’s a fool,” Arthur continued, nodding slightly, “Get her outta here.”

Dutch stared at him, then thundered, to him or Molly she didn’t know, “You know the rules.”

“Oh, not so big now!” Molly was still going on, nearly screaming, “Are we, your majesty?!”

“You—”

A gunshot rang out, a bullet tearing through Molly’s stomach.

"Damn!” Bill cried as people gasped and Ada’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, holding in her cry as they all watched a dark redness blossom across Molly’s white blouse.

Susan stepped forward, gripping a shotgun, as Molly collapsed, dead, and Ada could hear Mary-Beth sobbing.

Oh my God.

“She knew the rules, Arthur,” Susan hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She turned sharply. “Mr Pearson, Mr Williamson, get this body outta here and get it burnt! Now get back to work, all of ya!”

As they all moved instantly, startled into it, in her peripheral vision she saw Dutch turn to her, so slowly it was almost like a dream. Lowering her hands, knowing they were shaking, she met his gaze.

He looked at her.

   Oh, God, Molly, I’m so sorry.

"She never liked me,” she heard herself saying. She had no idea how she kept her composure, how her voice didn’t shake, how she sounded so sad and calm and casual at the same time.

Maybe because her life was on the fucking line.

She stared at him as he looked at her.

A lifetime seemed to pass, then he nodded and turned away, moving towards his tent. Arthur was looking at her, but he didn’t say anything, just turned sharply on his heel and strode after Dutch, spitting out curses.

She felt sick. She felt cold and hot and angry and sad and helpless and useless.

Folding her arms, her hands gripping her biceps to hide her shaking hands, Ada watched as Bill and Pearson carried Molly’s body away. They were going to burn her. She felt tears stinging at her eyes. Because of her they’d died. And she’d called her an O’Driscoll? Where the fuck had that come from? Her mind should have been racing, she should have been relieved Molly hadn’t been made to elaborate, but...

Despite what she’d done, she couldn’t hate her, she couldn’t...

Molly, I’m so sorry.

 “Hey, honey.”

She stiffened. Micah, who had been so quiet these past couple of months, who had barely said a word to her, who had seemed so disinterested, smiled as he approached her.

“What do you want.”

He laughed, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “So abrupt. I can’t just say hello?”

“What do you want, Micah.”

“Nothin’.” His smile lingered. “Just wanted to ask how your day was goin’, that’s all.”

“It was fine.” She didn’t like that he continued to smile, even as he followed the direction of her gaze, watching Bill and Pearson.

“Yeah, big mess, ain’t it.”

She didn’t say a word.

“Well.” His hands clapping together made her jump, her nails digging into her biceps. “I expect things will sort themselves out soon.” He grinned. “Hope your day gets better, darlin’.”

He wandered away, humming to himself as he headed for the main fire, Charles and Uncle sat before it, silent, staring into the flames. Her gaze lifted from them and... she saw Karen, looking at her, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly looked away as Ada met her gaze. Starting to tremble, Ada turned and saw Tilly... sat against a tree, crying, looking at her. She, too, looked away.

Oh, my God... It’s in their minds... Whether they believe it or not, it’s in their minds...

She felt like she was going to faint. Lifting her gaze again, she found Arthur striding towards her, his features tight. Lowering her arms as he approached, she didn’t have a chance to speak as his hand settled on her back and pushed her into a walk with him.

“C’mon, we’re goin’ out.”

“Where?” she asked, so relieved, moving towards Mags.

“I don’t know, huntin’ or somethin’,” he muttered, mounting Ophelia. “Need some God damn space from here.”

She pulled herself up into Mags’s saddle, and met Javier’s gaze. He just looked at her. He didn’t look away. Turning Mags around, she pressed her lips together as she and Arthur rode out of camp, clicking her tongue to urge Mags into a trot so she could take the lead.

“I know a place.”

Arthur just grunted in response, and she let silence fall, letting him work through what he needed to, and, God, she just couldn’t talk anymore. They pressed on into a canter, both eager to get away from what had once been home.

— 

The crumbling sign on the wooden archway had faintly read ‘Willard’s Rest’.

Arthur could see no Willard, though.

And he was damn fucking happy for it.

The cabin was empty, though furniture still remained in the three rooms that made it up; a bed in two of the rooms, one large, one small, a table and chairs in the main room along with empty cabinets. It was fairly clean, a slight layer of dust, but otherwise fine. It was probably too far out for most travellers, and maybe too hidden, too, the trees giving good coverage at the front, the cliff at the back.

“How’d you find this place?” he asked, removing his gloves and dropping them on to the table as he returned from his perusing of the rooms to see if they were clear.

“Sadie and I came here once when we went out hunting, when we were hiding at Lakay.” Ada hissed softly as she rose, her leg stiff, having just about managed to light a fire in the hearth opposite the table. A light rain had started as they’d arrived and she was absolutely not going to spend the night in a freezing cabin.

 “Mmh. This is quite a way from there.” Arthur took a seat as she stood by the fire, warming her hands.

“We just started riding and didn’t stop.” She smiled slightly. “Think we just wanted space, too.”

He nodded, stretching his legs out as his gaze roamed the room again. “This is nice. Seems like someone just moved out.”

“That’s what Sadie and I thought.”

He looked to her as she rubbed her arms and leaned against the wall. “You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured.

He could see she was shaking, and he didn’t think it was from the rain. 

Inhaling a breath, Ada shrugged. “I don’t... I don’t know. I haven’t been... able to feel anything for the last few weeks and I’m afraid if I do, I... And what just happened, it...” She exhaled a faint, shaking laugh.

“I get it,” he murmured, guilt twisting at his heart again.

Silence lingered as she took another trembling breath, exhaled it, then paused again. Finally, she smiled slightly, her gaze holding his. “I’m so glad you came back. I’m so happy, very happy.”

He couldn’t help but match her smile even as the knife of guilt continued to twist. “Me, too.”

She licked her lips. “It... It was very hard without you, for me.”

She could feel the tears forming again, clouding her vision slightly, but she tried so hard to suppress them. If she started, she didn’t know if she would ever be able to stop.

Arthur saw it, though, and he couldn’t bear it. Rising, he moved towards her. “Hey, c’mere.”

She released another quiet, useless laugh as she straightened. “Oh no, please don’t, I don’t think I can...”

His hands went to her waist, pulling her into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around her. He felt her stiffen slightly, her arms at her sides.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair, his cheek resting atop her head.

After a few, silent moments, her hands lifted, gripping his jacket at his back. He felt it, then, her silent sobs as she held on to him, her tears wetting his shirt.

“It’s okay...” he murmured again, just holding her as she cried.

He didn’t care to recognise how long he held her for, how long she cried. He’d have done it forever, if that’s what she needed. It tore at his heart, her sobs, the burdens and fears and anxieties she was releasing with every jagged breath. He knew it would have done no good to tell her that he should have been there, he shouldn’t have left, that they should have left, run away, gone west, gone north, gone anywhere away from all of this, this crumbling society. He knew no apologies would atone for any of it. So, finally, after a lifetime, as her cries softened, he whispered one of the two things he had faith in.

“I ain’t goin’ away again, darlin’, not without you.”

“You can’t promise me that, Arthur,” she murmured, the words muffled against his chest.

“I know.” His hands caressed her back gently. “But I’m gonna do my damn best.”

Her shoulders shuddered and he thought she might dissolve into sobs again, but she inhaled a quiet breath and lifted her head. She looked at him then, holding his gaze, as if she could find the real answer, the truth, within his eyes. He didn’t know what she found but she raised her hands and wiped at her face, her palms resting over her eyes as she released a long breath. Then, her features seemed to crumble again.

“Oh, God, Molly...”

The tears came again as he held her, his heart breaking again.

“I just can’t believe she just... And how did she know...”

“She could have been lyin’,” he murmured, “Seemed to me she was just sayin’ shit about people, wanted to hurt ‘em.”

He felt her shaking her head, managing to speak through her tears as she raised her head to look at him. “I don’t think so, Arthur... Hosea knew.”

“What?”

She sniffed, taking a breath. “When Sadie and I went back to Shady Belle, a week or two after it all happened, she let me check all the rooms just in case any of you had come by and left something. I checked Hosea’s room and by his bed in a drawer was a newspaper.” She swallowed hard. “The newspaper that had me in it, the description of me and the article about my uncle looking for me.” Fresh tears began to fall. “He was an intelligent man. There’s no way he wouldn’t have figured it all out and...” Her voice broke as she continued, “and he didn’t say anything. He gave no... no indication, no hint that he knew, he just... carried on treating me the same. God’s sake...” She closed her eyes, weeping. “I wish I’d told everyone now. Not at the beginning but at some point.” She looked up at him. “Whatever had to happen would have happened. I’d like to think I would have been able to argue my case and I’d have been left alone, accepted.”

Arthur exhaled a breath as he wiped her tears away. Truthfully, he had no idea what would have happened... but...

"I’d have had your back,” he murmured, “and Sadie, Sean, Lenny, John, Abigail, and Hosea, and the girls... we know what kind of person you are.”

Her chin was trembling. “But Dutch—”

“I can’t speak for Dutch, but...” He cupped her cheek. “... we’d have been there for you.”

“I don’t know, Arthur...” She shook her head. “... I saw some of them looking at me as we left, I... I don’t know.”

“Whether they believe it or not, they know what kind of a person you are,” he repeated gently. “You did so much for ‘em while we were away. They know that. They’ll just be upset and their minds scrambled ‘cause of Molly.”

“And what a fucking mess,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I just feel so sorry for her.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know...” And he couldn’t think what else to say. He was just as sad, just as enraged. No matter the rules that wasn’t how it should have gone down. She had been drunk, out of her mind, and while he couldn’t think why she would lie about being the one to betray them, she’d seemed to have revelled in revealing it, actually, she still should have been allowed to sober up, say her piece, say why, and then they could have decided what to do... and he hoped it wouldn’t have been to fucking kill her. Molly was Molly, lazy, entitled, sour, but... she hadn’t deserved an end like that, despite what she’d done.

Then again, a small, angry, exhausted, desperately sad part of him whispered that she had. Hosea, one of the greatest men he’d ever known, the man who had practically raised him, had died in a street, bleeding out in the gutter. Lenny, the future of the gang, a kind, funny, lively boy, had died running from a situation he shouldn’t have even been in.

He just held her tighter in his embrace, knowing they both needed it. She held on to him, taking in quiet, ragged breaths as the last of her sobs faded away.

Gentle rain pattered against the roof, and he faintly hoped there wouldn’t be any leaks.

“I’ll cook us somethin’, all righ’?” he murmured, against her hair a few minutes later, his thumbs gently stroking her back. “There’s some tins of somethin’ in my saddlebag, that should do.”

She nodded, and drew her head back as she exhaled a breath, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. “That sounds good.”

“Good.” 

His heart ached and he couldn’t release her just yet so he bowed his head and kissed her. It was soft, gentle, meant to comfort her and silently reinforce his vow of staying with her. Her hands slid up his back, though, gripping at him again but in a decidedly more urgent manner, and he relinquished to her as she deepened the kiss.

I’ll go in a minute, he thought as an arm tightened around her waist and his other hand settled on the back of her neck. In a minute.

Then she moaned quietly against his lips, her tongue brushing against them.

He knew, he knew if it didn’t stop now then it wouldn’t later.

Her hands were at his jacket, pushing it off of his shoulders and he helped her, throwing it to the side and immediately returning his hands to her, holding her by the waist and pulling her closer.

They needed each other.

Her fingers undid the bandanna she’d returned to him from around his neck, moving to unbutton his shirt before it had even touched the ground. Knowing they both needed a breath, he pulled his lips from hers and brought them to her neck, kissing a trail down the soft column of her throat and back up, teasing along her jawline. She exhaled a moan, her fingers splaying across his bare chest as his shirt fell open, her head tipping back, her eyes closed.

One hand pulled her blouse free from where it was tucked into her trousers, his fingers tracing along her stomach and she gasped softly, probably would have jerked away involuntarily if his arm around her lower back hadn’t kept her tight against him.

Ada could feel his cock hardening against her thigh and she pushed against him, drawing a groan from him that had her shoving his shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms. He helped her again, his hands off of her for the briefest of moments before they were returning, gripping at her back and ass, pulling her as tight against him as possible. She was kissing along his shoulder, kissing at where his scar was, her teeth grazing over his skin with every one, and it drove him insane.

God, he wanted to feel her everywhere.

“Bedroom...” she breathed against his neck, as if hearing his thoughts, “... One with the bigger bed.”

“Obviously...” he groaned into her jaw, biting at it gently as she nipped at his skin in return with a moaned, “Shut up...”

Grunting with impatience, he turned them, pushing her backwards towards the bedroom with his arms remaining tight around her. If either of them stumbled a little they barely registered it, and his arm only moved from her to dart out and grip at the doorjamb so she wouldn’t knock into it. He was surprised he’d reacted in time, her fingers dancing along the waistband of his trousers and unbuttoning them thoroughly distracting.

Stumbling into the room, her back did knock against a chest of drawers, making her hiss in surprise, but it was swiftly replaced by a gasp as he turned her and her back now collided with a wall. Leaning her head back against it so she could see what she was doing, she went to push her hand into his open trousers when his knee pushed between her legs, his thigh pressing against her covered cunt. Inhaling a sharp breath, her hands gripped at his biceps as he braced a hand against the wall.

“Fuck...” he groaned as she rocked against his thigh, her eyes closed and her lips parted. “... I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes...” she breathed, her hand moving to the back of his neck. Opening her eyes, her tongue darted out over her lips. “Touch me, Arthur, please...”

His hand instantly dropped from her hip and tugged the buttons of her trousers undone. Then his hand was inside, his fingers sliding over her cunt and spreading her wet lips. She couldn’t and didn’t care to stop herself from crying out, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Oh, Christ, Arthur...” She had to trail off with a breathy moan as his middle finger glided up her slit and circled her sensitive bud, making her hips buck.

She was wet already for him, enough so that he could press two fingers into her easily. His lips went to her neck as he instantly began to pump them, his other hand pulling her shirt open a little wider, hearing a button or two collide with the wooden floor but neither of them cared. His half-biting, open-mouthed kisses moved down to her throat and chest, and he growled against her skin as her slick walls fluttered around his fingers and her beautiful moans sounded against his ear.

“Fuck, Arthur...” she breathed out, and he could feel her nearing her release already, so wound up and ready for him, ready for the bliss he could give her.

“Come for me,” he commanded, kissing under her jaw so he could gravel into her ear, “Get my hand wet, sweetheart, let me feel you...”

Just his words alone had her clenching around his fingers, and his thumb pressed against her aching clit, rubbing in a firm circle. He wanted to see her face but he couldn’t tear his mouth from her skin, so the only warning he had was her sharp inhale, a very short silence, and then she was crying out through gritted teeth as her nails sank into his skin. He could feel her wetness around his fingers, beads of it sliding down his palm and his cock was so, so painfully hard.

As she rode the last waves of her pleasure, barely coming down, he pulled his hand away and slid his arm around her back, pulling her away from the wall. Her eyes snapping open, the next thing she knew, he’d turned them and was pushing her backwards once more. Her calves met the iron frame of the bed and she fell back, him following, her back colliding now with the soft mattress. Neither cared about the state of the bedsheets, a little musty but better than the blankets they’d had at Lakay, and their lips met instantly. It was a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongue and harsh breaths. His body covered hers and she couldn’t stop herself from focusing on his cock pressing down against her.

“I want you inside me...” she breathed against his lips before she could stop herself, rocking her hips up against him. “... I want to feel you inside me...”

And he paused. Lifting his head, he met her gaze, both their lips parted, chests rising and falling swiftly.

She thought he was going to say no or pull away, thought she’d pushed her luck... when he nodded, his thumb on her waist where her blouse had ridden up caressing gently.

“Yes,” he gravelled, then his lips were back on her but at her neck this time, biting and sucking a path down and her cry of relief was lost in her moan of delight as he licked at her nipple through her blouse and thin, cotton corset.

“Off, get it off...” she heard herself demanding breathlessly, and then his hands were pulling her blouse off, pulling it apart, actually, buttons dropping onto the mattress but she didn’t care.

Arching her back and moving her arms to help him remove it, she then kept it arched as his hands went underneath her, trying to unlace the corset.

It was nowhere near as complicated as the corset she had worn for the Mayor’s party but he still hissed out curses in frustration. Her lips twitching, she was about to tease him when he rose up on his knees, gripped her waist, and turned her over swiftly.

Exhaling a sharp breath as she suddenly found herself on her front, her hands gripping the sheets, she barely had time to react as his hand aggressively tugged at the fastenings and his other pushed her hair aside so he could mouth at her neck and shoulder. Her eyes fell shut as she hummed at the delicious sensation, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, and, with his straining cock digging into her ass, she couldn’t stop herself from rocking back against him.

He growled and swatted at her ass lightly, drawing a gasp from her.

“Can’t concentrate if you do that, woman...” he muttered into her neck and she gave a wide, breathless smirk.

“Can’t do two things at once? Poor baby...”

“You know I can, sweetheart.” 

The fastenings finally undone, he tugged the corset apart and pushed her over onto her back again. Arching an eyebrow at him, even as a flush spread across her cheeks and neck, she huffed out, “Are you going to keep throwing me around?”

A corner of his mouth rose higher than the other. “Only if you keep likin’ it. Arms above your head.”

She obeyed immediately, her teeth biting at her lower lip again to try and hide a smile, unsuccessfully, though, if his own smirk was anything to go by. He pushed the corset up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor, and then he was on her again, kissing at her jaw, throat, going down, down, down, until he was at her nipples, bare for him now and hard. He sucked and licked at one, and as she moaned, the sound low in her throat, she was about to sink her fingers into his hair when his were suddenly lacing with hers, keeping them above her head. All she could do was arch her back and roll her hips, mewls and soft curses falling from her lips as he did as he pleased, moving from one breast to the other.

She was about to curse at him, her already very intense need growing, when he released her hands and moved down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach like a starving man until he was shifting off of the bed, lowering to his knees on the floor. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her curls sliding over her shoulders, not wanting to take her eyes off of him, and watched him pull her boots off before his hands were at the waistband of her trousers, tugging them down. Ada raised her hips to help him, and even as he was still pulling them down her calves his lips were on her thighs, placing gentle, hungry kisses along them, pausing only to press a gentle, lingering one to the new, pink scar. Tossing the trousers aside once they were off, his hands curved around her knees, pulling them wider apart as his mouth moved up to her wet cunt.

She barely had time to take in a breath before he was licking and sucking at her soaking folds. Her mouth dropping open, her head tipped back and a low moan escaped her.

“Holy God...” she breathed, one of her hands moving to his hair, finally able to tangle her fingers in.

It was a little longer now, so she could easily sink them in and pull and tug, her nails gliding against his scalp. He groaned against her pussy with every tug she gave, his hands sliding over her hips, settling on her stomach. Dragging her teeth over her lower lip as hummed moans left her, she opened her eyes looked down at him, instantly meeting his gaze. He released a sound akin to a growl as their eyes locked and the flat of his tongue slid up her slit, watching her brow dip as she moaned loudly.

“Taste so fuckin’ good...” he groaned against her, and the vibration of his voice had her hips bucking, his hands on her stomach instantly pressing down.

One of them then slid up to pull and roll her nipple, and her elbow supporting her gave out as her other hand flew to his hair at his tongue circling her clit.

Her breaths were becoming shorter and sharper and she wanted to roll her hips but he wasn’t having it, his arm lying across her stomach now. He was driving her insane, his tongue dipping into her before coming back to lap at her clit and it was both perfect and not enough.

The sound she released, close to a whine, had him arching an eyebrow, and she could feel his smirk.

“Somethin’ you want, Ada?”

Her breathing hitched at both feeling his voice again, and his tone. “Come on, Arthur...”

“Oh, I don’t know what to do, sweetheart...” he rumbled as he drew his head back, his hand moving down from her nipple. “... wanna keep tastin’ you, been dreamin’ about this, but also wanna feel you come again...”

Her response, whatever it would be, even she didn’t know, died on her tongue as he slid two fingers inside her and stroked them. Crying out, her head tipped back and she pulled at his hair, pushing her hips against him.

“Oh, fuck, God, Arthur, oh, fuck...” She was almost babbling, so close, so fucking close to the edge again and and his words and fingers had only driven her there further.

He could feel her slick walls starting to flutter around him, and he groaned, kissing and sucking at her clit. “... Think I’ll be nice and make you come again...”

She breathed out a sound of relief, her gaze darting down to him as her moans became louder and higher. She tried to keep her eyes on his, but as his fingers and tongue stroked at her, only a few moments later she threw her head back and cried out, her hips rising off the bed.

“That’s it, that’s it, let me taste you...” he mumbled, scissoring his fingers slightly against her tightening walls.

She was almost pushing against his head, pushing him further against her, and he wasn’t about to complain. Lapping her up, he slid his fingers out so he could collect all of her wetness on his tongue, gliding it up her slit. When he reached her clit, her hips jerked, sensitive, and she then started to push his head away.

Chuckling lowly, he obeyed and softly kissed along her thigh as her hands fell to her sides, her eyes closed. Breathing hard, small, hummed moans left her every few moments, and when he reached her knee, he then gently lowered her legs and pushed himself up.

The sound of his boots coming off made her eyelids flutter open, and she gazed up at him, meeting his gaze. Then, a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and he was about to return it when she pushed herself up and settled her hands on his hips. Her legs widened so he was essentially standing between them, and she gazed up at him as she pressed a soft kiss above the trail of hair on his lower stomach.

A slightly hissed breath escaped him, and one of her hands slid to the open front of his trousers.

“Can I touch you?” she murmured against his skin, pressing another kiss, and he realised she was giving him the option to stop this.

And then he realised he could let her touch him now.

Because he’d said yes.

And he wanted this, wanted her.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice almost hoarse with need.

The slow smile that spread across her lips had him wanting to taste her yet again, but he restrained himself as her hand slid into his trousers and her fingers wrapped around his hard, straining cock. His eyes fell shut with a groan as she pulled him out, and she’d remembered what he’d said because her hand left him briefly and when it returned it was wet and, God, it was heaven...

His hand found the side of her neck, cupping it, and his thumb brushed against her jaw gently as she moved her hand up and down his length.

Then her tongue was on the weeping head of his cock.

Clenching his jaw tightly as she gave small, light licks, he knew he couldn’t open his eyes because he’d just come right there.

Ada gazed up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw move, feeling his fingers flex and tighten against her neck, though she didn’t mind at all. Her other hand pulled his trousers down a little further, and the feel of her nails against his thigh seemed to bring him back into the room as his eyes snapped open.

She was about to murmur something coy when he gently pushed her hands away and shoved his trousers down to the floor, kicking the garment aside.

“Lie back,” he murmured, and she did so instantly, shifting backwards and lying on the bed.

He placed a knee on the bed and leaned over her, supporting himself with a hand by her head. He was about to speak, to tell her how beautiful she looked, when her hands cupped his face and drew him down, claiming his lips in a firm kiss. His whole body lowered against her, an arm sliding under her as the other settled above her head. He could feel all of her, all of her soft skin against him, feel how wet she was against his thigh.

“Ada...” he mumbled against her lips, and she hummed in reply, hooking a leg over his hip, opening up to him.

Christ...

Breaking the kiss gently, he drew his head back and gazed down at her. Her eyes opened a moment later, and she smiled softly, slightly breathlessly.

“What is it?” she murmured as her fingers caressed his hair.

Licking his lips, his thumb above her head stroked at one of her curls. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked quietly, now giving her the opportunity to stop.

The backs of her fingers brushed against his cheek as she nodded without hesitation, her teeth grazing over her plump lower lip. “I am.”

He nodded, and lust surged within him once more because she wanted him and there was his fire in her eyes and so he kissed her fiercely.

She reacted instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she released a soft sound against his lips. Shifting between her legs slightly, his arm moved out from under her and he gripped his cock, guiding the tip to her entrance.

Fuck, feeling how wet she was...

“I ain’t gonna last long,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss and meeting her gaze. “Been some time.”

She nodded and swallowed lightly. “That’s okay.”

“It might... It’s gonna hurt a little, so I’ll go slow.”

Ada nodded again, her fingertips pressing into his shoulders. “Okay.”

He nodded, licked his dry lips, then pushed the head of his cock into her.

Oh, fuck...

Oh, Christ, he wasn’t going to last long at all.

Even with just the tip he could feel how warm and tight she was.

He had to force himself to keep his eyes open because he wanted to watch her reactions, wanted to see if he might be causing any really bad pain.

And, oh, fuck, looking at her...

She was holding his gaze, her lips parted, her skin flushed, a gentle sound coming from the back of her throat. He pushed in a little further and she winced just slightly but it was accompanied by a small moan. So he kept pushing, gently, slowly, watching her and trying not to think about how fucking good she felt.

After what felt like a thousand lifetimes, he finally sheathed himself inside her.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from closing.

Lowering his face, it pressed into the crook of her neck as he hissed out breaths through his teeth. He could feel her nails digging into his skin and he focused on that because, fuck, he wasn’t going to come yet.

Ada, in turn, was staring at the ceiling, her lips still parted, every breath leaving her almost a moan... and she was trying so hard to not move because she knew, from how damn tense he was, he was trying to do the same.

It had hurt a little, but after a few moments, after she’d adjusted, it felt... incredible. The long, hard length of him fit her perfectly, and being filled by him, being stretched... A new wave of warmth settled in her lower stomach and he must have felt it in some way because he hissed out a short breath, his hands gripping at the sheets.

How long had it been for him? she thought, her fingertips brushing against his skin in the lightest of touches.

Licking her lips as he stiffened, she then tilted her head down a fraction and brushed her lips against his skin as her hips gave the smallest of rolls.

His hand darted down and gripped her hip, but not firm enough to stop her, so she did it again, then again, then again until she was rocking up against him. She could feel each of his breaths on her skin, laboured and short.

He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be buried inside her forever, and he didn’t want to come because then it would be over and—

She moaned against his ear.

It was the softest of sounds, and it broke something inside of him.

Gritting his teeth, his hand slid from her hip to her thigh, and he held her leg in position around him. Then, he started to move his hips, drawing them back and thrusting inside her in a slow, drawn out movement.

He could feel all of her, every inch of her warm wetness, and she could feel every inch of him, her head tipping back as she cried out softly.

Each sound she made only spurred him on, making his movements quicken until he was thrusting hard and fast and she was moaning and gripping at him and he wasn’t going to last, he wasn’t going to last...

She heard him grunt something out, and it took her a moment to respond herself, one hand gripping at his hair.

“Hm?”

“... Gonna come...” came the tight reply, and it sent the most delicious of thrills through her.

He was going to withdraw, was going to spill his seed on her stomach, when her legs tightened around him, holding him against her, and he let her, all thought of consequences leaving his mind. Breathing hard into her neck, one hand gripped her thigh tightly as his other tangled in the sheets above her head, and he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt each time, and she was so warm and wet and tight and she was moaning his name and—

Gritting his teeth, his hips drew back, then he thrust into her once more, burying himself deep within her, and his body went taut as he froze and his release finally came. 

Low, breathless groans fell from his lips as his hips jerked, and her mouth dropped open as a rush of breath escaped her, her arms tight around him, feeling him release inside her. Her slick walls fluttered around him in response and it just prolonged his heaven-sent pleasure, and he couldn’t think, all he could do was feel, his mind blank.

He didn’t know how long he lay there on top of her, still, his face pressed against her neck, softening cock buried inside her, exhaling harsh, short breaths. It took him a little while to realise her finger tips were gently stroking against his back, and it wasn’t until she shifted just slightly that he realised he must be crushing her, and so he lifted his head and pushed himself up with a mumbled, “Shit, sorry...”

She was smiling, though, as he met her gaze, the most tender of smiles he’d ever seen. Exhaling another breath, a smile pulled at his own lips and he cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin.

He bowed his head and claimed that smile, kissing her softly. Her hand settled on the back of his head as she returned the kiss with a quiet hum.

“Sorry, it’ll be better next time...” he murmured when the kiss broke, still a little breathless.

“That wasn’t good?” she answered, arching an eyebrow as her smile returned.

“No, no, I mean for you, it’ll be better—”

Her kiss silenced him, her arms wrapping around his neck and drawing him back down against her. He gave in, an arm sliding underneath her and holding her tight against him.

“Shut up, Arthur Morgan,” she murmured against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied just as quietly, his lips brushing over hers.

Her smile was there again when he drew his head back. “... Next time, did you say?”

“In-satiable...”

She laughed as he pushed himself up with a shake of his head, the sound drawing off with a slight hiss and a wince as he slowly pulled out of her. Licking her lips, her hands went to her stomach as he moved off of her and settled on his back with a contented sigh. Then, before she knew it, his arm was going around her and pulling her against him. Turning on her side, one of her legs draped over his as she curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Gazing up at him, she found his eyes had closed, but his fingers traced light and lazy patterns on her arm. A soft smile danced across her lips... but something had resurfaced in her mind; a question that had been playing on her mind since he’d left.

“Arthur...?”

“Mmh...” His eyes remained closed for a moment longer before he looked down at her, arching an eyebrow.

Licking her lips again, she took a slight breath. “... Why were you so reluctant to do this with me?”

His gaze held hers, his jaw moving just slightly. “I ain’t... I ain’t been with someone in some time.”

“So... you were nervous?” she asked gently, her hand resting on his chest.

“No, I, well, a little, but it weren’t about that, I...” He cleared his throat after a moment as he sat up carefully, giving her room to shift from under his arm, and he leaned back against the headboard.

She stayed silent, watching him as she leaned up onto her elbow.

He looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumb across one and cleared his throat again before looking up at her. “Ada, I... There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you for a while. I’m sorry I ain’t said it sooner, but... I had a kid.”

Her lips parted as her eyebrows rose. “What?”

He took a breath, his mouth moving slightly. “... Years ago, when I was younger, there was a woman called Eliza, and we... we liked each other a lot and slept together and... And Isaac came along. I couldn’t stay with ‘em, not with this life, but I sent money and would visit whenever I could.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “He was a good kid. And, then, ah...” The smile vanished as soon as it had come. “... Then I went to visit one time and when I got there... house was empty, two graves outside. They’d been robbed and shot. It was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through in my life and I just stopped... feelin’. Hardened me.” He glanced up at her. “I think you can understand that.”

A corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes shining.

He swallowed, exhaled a breath. “Then I met Mary and I started to feel again, but, it weren’t righ’. That’s why it was so hard for me to really let her go. I thought she was my only chance at somethin’ really good.” He looked at her again. “I ended it with her, you know. Called it all to an end when I went and saw her that day.”

“You did?” she said quietly, her chest tightening slightly.

“Yeah. Was time for one of us to do it. I didn’t love her that way anymore, either, I need you to know that.”

She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t need to tell her, but he preempted it and raised his hand slightly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Wait a second, let me finish... I hadn’t really loved her for some time, not properly. I’ll always be fond of her, she was an important part of my life but, I didn’t, I don’t think I ever did, actually, love her.” He paused, then murmured the second thing he had absolute faith in. “... I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like I love you.”

Her heart stopped. 

Gazing at him, her lips parted, she could feel tears starting to prick at her eyes again. “... You love me?”

“Yeah.” A corner of his mouth twisted up. “Done what I can to stop it, but... it’s just as stubborn as you are.”

Her eyes shining again, she pressed her lips together to stop her lower one from trembling. Swallowing hard, after a few moments, moments that seemed like an eternity to him, she nodded and smiled softly.

“Well... I love you, too, Arthur Morgan.”

His eyebrows lifted, his chest tightening slightly. “You do?”

She nodded, a tear dripping down her cheek as she blinked, her smile lingering. “Yeah. Tried to stop it, too, but... just keeps following me around, wherever I go, like you.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound of it slightly thick from the emotion settling in his throat. “Well... that’s good, then.”

“Yeah.”

After a moment, she sniffed then pushed herself up and moved towards him, and he leaned towards her and his hands cupped her face as hers settled on his chest and they kissed, lingering and tender.

I love you.

When he finally released her, her head settled on his shoulder and his arms went around her, fingers lightly stroking her skin.

They lay in silence, allowing their words to linger in the air.

Her eyes were closed, a smile on her lips, her heart beating a little faster.

I love you.

It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to say. No ceremony, no floods of tears, no hesitation, just saying it and meaning it.

I love you.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting his shoulders against the headboard. Whatever was going to happen tomorrow, the day after, the rest of her life, she was going to be with him, loved and safe, and she was going to do anything to keep it that way.

She had a hundred questions to ask, about Isaac, about Eliza, about his life back then but... They could wait. Despite the years that stretched between now and those events, she could sense there was a rawness still there, a grief that hadn’t ended, and she could understand it all too well.

“Mmh, anythin’ happen with the O’Driscoll camp, by the way?” he murmured after a few more quiet minutes.

“Oh, yeah...” She shifted a little, her eyes remaining closed. “Rounded a few up, asked them about Thomas and they all went quiet, so I think they knew something.”

“Righ’.”

She inhaled a breath, her eyebrows rising a little. “But maybe not, they didn’t seem particularly bright. One lit a stick of dynamite and threw it without even looking, it exploded near me and his friends.”

“There was an explosion?!” He looked down at her as his hands stilled, staring. “Jesus, woman, can you prioritise the things you tell me and when?”

Her lips twitched as her gaze slid up to him. “Well, there was an ambush t—”

“Ambush?!”

“Well, the explosion came from the ambush—”

“God damn it, woman, you are just...” He exhaled a heavy breath as he shook his head. “... Are you okay?”

She smiled, almost in amusement. “I’m fine, Arthur.” The smile faded after a few moments, though, and he knew something else was on her mind.

Licking her lips, she curled up against him. “I heard one of the men say that Colm’s been looking for me. I just don’t know why. I can’t work out if it’s just a game for him or whether there’s an actual reason.”

Arthur had resumed stroking her skin gently, soothingly, and he released a low hum. “Well, he ain’t got you yet, though, and I won’t let him.”

Her lips twitched faintly as she arched an eyebrow. “You’ll have to get in line because I won’t let him either.”

“I would gladly get behind you...”

She laughed softly as his lips went to her forehead and cheeks, kissing sloppily.

“Stop it, my heart’s only just calmed down.”

"You sure? Lemme just check that you’re really okay...”

She laughed louder as her arms went around him as he shifted them so she lay underneath him, and he kissed and caressed every inch of her body, except where she wanted him the most.

“Insatiable, Mr Morgan...” she murmured with a breathless smile as his nose brushed against her stomach, and he pressed a kiss there, his lips trailing down.

—

He dozed off afterwards and she let him, knowing she should probably get some sleep, too, but it hadn’t come. She could barely close her eyes without wanting to scream with joy.

He loved her. She was loved, for all that she was, good and bad.

She would never be able to convey how happy she was.

Tonight had been the last barrier. The act and their words had told her he was hers and she was his, for all that they were, mind, body and soul. 

On her side, her hand tucked under her chin, she gazed at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his nose, his mouth, his eyelashes, the hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck, the sparse, light freckles on his skin, the—

He shifted as he inhaled a slow breath. Her eyes moving back up, they met his.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice a little hoarse.

“Hey,” she whispered, a soft smile lifting her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

Rubbing at his face with a hand, he then arched an eyebrow as it dropped to his chest. “How long you been starin’ at me?”

Her smile widened. “Hours.”

He snorted. “I don’t sleep hours. You should sleep, though.”

“I will.”

He gazed at her as she didn’t move, just looking at him, her smile lingering.

She had to say it. Had to make sure it was still real.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan,” she murmured softly.

His features softened instantly, his arm sliding around her. “I love you, too, Ada.”

Lifting her chin, her lips met his in a tender kiss.

It was still real.

—

He awoke in the morning, after a peaceful, unbroken sleep, to find her head on his chest, her fingers tracing light patterns, her stomach rumbling, and aching and sore in the best way.

“I’ll cook us that meal,” he mumbled against her lips once he’d finally found the strength to stop kissing her.

She hummed and rolled onto her back as he pushed himself up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Watching him run a hand through his hair, she played with her ring, twisting it around and around, because as blissful as last night was, every second of it... the light of the morning sun brought with it an unspoken question that hung in the air.

He cleared his throat, his elbows on his knees. After a few moments, he then looked to her.

“We have to go back.” The words were quiet, expected, and she nodded.

“I know.”

Watching him dress, she didn’t allow herself to feel resigned, hopeless or afraid.

They would go back, and she would plan a way for them to leave this life behind.

—

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[humanmoodring-retired]

Let’s End a Mime or Nadia (LEMON) || POTW Solo

Summary: I hope no one here thought I’d let Nadia get away with no mime clone shenanigans.

Warnings: Gore

Having only been home from the hospital for about an hour, Nadia was washing her face when she heard Rhiannon give a low growl and jump off the bed. “I’m not fucking feeding you this late,” Nadia called after the cat as she dried off. “You’re already, like, a giant. I don’t want you to get obese, too.” The kitten had been growing a lot in the months since Nadia found her, but she didn’t want her to become unhealthy. Nadia had never had a pet before; she wasn’t gonna fuck it up on the first go around, even if Rhi was a brat.

“Hey, come on,” Nadia called, walking into the living room, “I at least want to lay down for a few…” her voice trailed off as she saw Rhiannon, tail puffed up, hissing. Across from the cat, leaning down and making kissy faces to try and get her attention, was a mime.

A mime that looked far, far too similar to Nadia. As Nadia stood, completely still and with held breath, the mime looked up at her, smiled. She stood tall, her striped sweater as loose and comfy looking as the one Nadia herself was wearing.

“Oh, fuck,” Nadia said.

“Oh fuck,” the mime mouthed back, no sound coming out as she tilted back her head and laughed.

This was the last thing Nadia needed. The salt, the mime lady, Dario, Arthur in the hospital, Regan disappearing to who knows where and showing back up, this was icing on top of the fucking cake. God, she hated this town.

There was no sound at all in the apartment, except for Rhiannon’s soft growls. Nadia wanted to scoop the cat up and run, but the mime blocked the path to the door. Maybe she could get them in her bedroom. Maybe mimes couldn’t cross salt lines.

The mime was back to making kissy faces at the cat, as if the cat didn’t sense the inherent evil coming from it. Nadia herself sensed nothing, nothing. Like the mime wasn’t even alive. Or real. But she wasn’t going nuts. She wasn’t. People were talking about mime clones running around, trying to kill them, so it was real. It just… wasn’t trying to kill her. It was trying to woo over her cat.

Thankfully, Rhiannon seemed to like the mime version of her even less than the actual version of her. The thought warmed her heart, just a bit.

Striding over to the cat and picking her up, Nadia and the mime leaned up at the same time. When Nadia blinked, the mime blinked, and when Nadia clutched the cat tighter to her chest, the claws digging themselves into her shirt and skin, the mime acted as if there was a cat in her arms as well. Nadia took a step back. So did the mime. Carefully, she worked her way to her bedroom door, eye never leaving the mimes, the bronze-and-green that she so often saw in the mirror the only color on the mime. Even her hair was darker. Nadia managed to make her way to the bedroom and threw Rhiannon in, much to her displeasure. The cat yowled as Nadia slammed the door, and the mime pouted.

But it was just the two of them, now.

“Get out of my house,” Nadia said lowly, reminded, just a bit, of when she’d first moved in and there had been another unwanted intruder in her midst. She wasn’t scared this time, just pissed off. She’d have to find a way to mime proof the place, too, now.

The mime soundlessly snapped and pointed to the door, as if saying, No, bitch, you get out. Then she walked over to the couch, sat down, and began thumbing through Nadia’s copy of King Harald’s Saga.

It was like another possession. The mime wasn’t trying to kill her, just take over her life, just like the last invader had. Take her cat, her books-- Nadia was surprised she hadn’t gone to the kitchen and fixed herself a bowl of cereal.

This was ridiculous. Nadia walked over to the kitchen table, where she’d left her revolver earlier after removing it from her previous-criminal-paraphernalia bag, just to look at it. It scared her, more than she’d care to admit, but it was handy to have around in a situation like this. Marching back over to the mime, Nadia leveled the gun at her mimey self.

“I said to get out of my house,” she told the mime, coolly.

The mime met her gaze. One eyebrow raised, the mime set the book down and stood. She mimed loading a revolver chamber and pointed a nonexistent gun at Nadia.

Nadia just laughed.

“You dumb bitch,” she said. “There’s nothing in you--”

The sound of a gunshot cut her off, followed by blinding pain in her right arm. Nadia screamed, dropping her own gun and raising her hand up to where she’d been shot. There was an actual bullet in her arm. She’d really been shot. Through tears in her eyes, she could see the mime smiling at her. The mime mimed blowing smoke from a gun barrel. Then, she mimed dropping the weapon and leapt at Nadia.

Still bleeding and not expecting a follow up attack so soon, Nadia was knocked onto her back instantly. The mime went for her neck, probably intending to choke Nadia out. Nadia kneed her, first in the groin and again in the stomach, before she managed to take her left hand and scratch at the mime’s face. The combined blows knocked the mime off kilter a bit, and Nadia, full of pain and adrenaline, managed to get the mime off of her. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled to the door, grabbing her fire poker as she left. Out she went, attempting to put as much space between her and her striped assailant.

The mime, inclined to mimic, pursed her slowly down three flights of stairs.

Even if she didn’t know what the hell she was going to do when she got outside, Nadia knew she needed to get them out of her apartment. Her blood was already going to be hard to clean up, and she didn’t need the kind of negativity of either dying in or killing a mime in the space. Best to do it outside.

Maybe she was losing it from the pain and the slow, steady ooze of blood from her wound.

Nadia burst through the door, gulping the fresh night air as if that’d save her. Pivoting on her heels, she turned around, watching as the mime slowly came down the steps, not in a hurry in any way. Sauntering through the door with a confidence Nadia’s never actually had, the mime grinned at her as she loaded her imaginary gun. An imaginary gun that wasn’t so imaginary, actually.

Not wanting to get shot again, Nadia lurched forward, crying out, “No!” Dropping the poker, she grabbed the mime’s gun hand with her only good one, pointing it in the air. Three rounds fired off into the night. Thankfully, none of them hit Nadia. Then, instinctively, Nadia, used her leg to knock the mimes feet out from under her. Hopefully, the imaginary gun was tossed away.

“Kill her,” a voice whispered in Nadia’s ear. And that was the only option, wasn’t it? Kill the mime or die herself. And Nadia really didn’t want to die. She really, really didn’t.

She got on top of the mime, attempting to pull the same chokehold that the mime had pulled on her, but with more success, pressing down as hard as she could with her left side. The mime reached out, digging her fingers into Nadia’s gunshot wound, causing Nadia’s vision to spot up. Triumphantly and savagely, the mime pulled the bullet out, Nadia’s red blood coating her fingers as the bullet turned to tar-like ooze.

They rolled around on the grass. The mime decked Nadia. Nadia scratched at its eyes, greasepaint collecting under her fingers. Then the mime attempted to get up and Nadia wrapped an arm around her neck from behind, leaning all of her weight back and forcing her hand over the mime’s nose and mouth.

The mime went slack, and Nadia rolled it off of her. She staggered over to where she’d thrown the fire poker. Back to the mime, then, kneeling beside its black and white body. Right arm numb, blood oozing from a split lip and a bullet wound, the hairs on the back of her neck standing as something whispered “kill her kill her killher killer” in her ear like a fly that wouldn’t go away, Nadia raised the fire poker as high as she could. The mime’s eyes snapped open as she dug the fire poker into the mime’s chest.

There was no sound as it died, though its mouth was open in a silent scream. Nadia watched her mime self die under her, and the only sound was her own gurgled yell as the creature turned to black goo.

Nadia used the poker to pull herself to her feet, head spinning from the pain. She felt almost like someone was petting her hair, but she turned and no one was there. Applying pressure to her arm and feeling like she was going to be sick, Nadia made her way up three flights of stairs to her apartment. She didn’t start crying until she closed the door. She leaned back against it, sobbing quietly and feeling dulled around the edges. She just needed a break, just for a moment. Then she’d see about fixing herself up. She just needed to rest her eyes for a bit.