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azures-bazar · 1 year

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A Man From Another Time

A new one ! No need to remind you about my very strange writing schedules lmao This one came out of a corner of my mind as I asked myself "what if Arthur travelled with Francis Sinclair to 2023 ?"

I think I'll be doing a whole series of Modern!Arthur ! I just love picturing him trying things from the 21st century and being like totally thrilled by his discoveries !

And look at these absolutely gorgeous blue dotted socks

Modern - Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutral!Reader

Word count : 3.1k

Short summary : Somehow, Arthur has time-travelled with you to your own era, and discovers a world he never thought about.

A/Note : It’s based on a French experience, forgive me if it’s inaccurate.

Tags : cute, Arthur being like a kid, modern technologies, where are horses ?, overwhelmed boah, time-travelling, from 1899 to 2023, Francis Sinclair, post chapter 6

******

"Where are the horses ?"

This was the very first thing Arthur asked when you took him out in the city you were living in. His arrival at your place was rather strange and sudden as you woke up one night with him standing in your living room, completely unfazed and scared about something that might have happened earlier on. You had switched all lights on, absolutely terrified by this tall man wearing a union-suit, covered in bruises, coughing blood, unarmed, who looked at you with fear in his eyes. The only thing which made you keep your calm was Francis Sinclair, who was with him, holding him by the shoulders.

"We need some help here !" Francis had told you

You had met Francis while having a drink at the bar. He had first told you about time-travelling, you did not expect it to be true until he made you go through a door which led you straight to Saint-Denis, somewhere in 1899. Francis was a very peculiar man who had enjoyed playing with your thoughts about time-travelling. You never expected to move from an era to another, being somewhat scared to cause a paradox which would lead to some serious issues in your own time. You had watched many movies about paradoxes and did not want ending up into one of them.

The very first thing Francis had explained you was that Arthur had a tuberculosis, leading you to rush to your car in the middle of the night to drive to the nearest hospital. Arthur was absolutely mortified when he got inside, not saying a single word, even when you got to the hospital and dragged him inside. He coughed, still shaken and limping. Francis kept explaining him that you were going to see a doctor, but Arthur felt scared by what was happening. He had followed Francis into this strange door leading to your place, and there he was, with all these folks wearing white blouses and masks surrounding him. He had to remain at the hospital for a few days for his health to stabilise itself with the set of antibiotics given to him. You heard his voice for the first time when he got surprised by the doctor’s response to his illness.

"Tuberculosis has a cure ?"

Yes, his illness had a cure, there was enough hope for him to survive with the modern medicine. If Francis had decided to leave him behind in 1899, Arthur would have died on the top of that mountain in Roanoke Ridge. Francis had brought him to you right after Dutch had abandoned him, and Arthur was still devastated by this set of events that had happened a few minutes ago. In fact, he unexpectedly tried looking around the room to spot you nearby, afraid someone else was about to abandon him. You could not do that, you could not leave this poor man behind.

"You’re gonna be okay, sir." a nurse told him. "What’s your name ?"

"Arthur…" he groaned. "Arthur Morgan... I…I was…-"

"It’s okay, you’re okay."

Tears started streaming on his cheeks as they put an oxygen mask over his bruised face, you had watched him from distance while Francis had explained you the whole situation about Arthur’s old gang falling apart, his father-figure turning against him, his overall sacrifice for his brother. You felt the need to take care of him, Francis did not bring him to you by mistake, he knew you would help.

"It’s alright Arthur, we’re gonna take care of you." the nurse had told Arthur to calm him down

You had spent that night next to Arthur’s bed at the hospital, holding his hand while he was coughing, sobbing while remembering these past events, the way Dutch had betrayed him. You had tried your best to calm him down all night long, almost feeling devastated for this man you did not even know, ready to give up a piece of your own freedom to nurse him back to health and, probably, make him forget about his former life. He was certainly going to have some hard time to accommodate to this world, 124 years ahead of his time.

****

You had been taking care of Arthur for weeks already, Francis having been gone somewhere, leaving you alone with this peculiar roommate. You gave him your room, sleeping on the sofa of the living room in order to provide him with his own personal space and not bother him while you were either cooking, doing your laundry, watching tv or even working from home. For the first few days, Arthur hardly left your room, feeling constantly tired and mostly unable to walk around your place, only making it to the bathroom. These antibiotics given to him were certainly a cause to this permanent exhaustion, but he did not mind. He thanked you for nursing him back to health and being so kind with him perhaps twice a day.

His attitude was sweet, if not downright clingy at times. Arthur’s overall trauma following Dutch’s abandonment led him to develop a permanent need to have you around him, you could not spend a whole day at your workplace because you knew how much your guest longed to have you with him. After searching on the internet, you had found that Arthur was most likely suffering from a severe PTSD, but you did not mind. In fact, you enjoyed having Arthur near you, knowing he was feeling relaxed by hearing your footsteps, your voice, or by just seeing you.

Arthur had put all his trust on you since you brought him back from the hospital. Despite displaying his usual rowdy behaviour at times, he still obeyed your rules. You liked his overall presence at home, it made your life more enchanting to know that you were not going back to your empty place, but were going to see Arthur. It certainly brought the two of you quite close, enough for you to start displaying some physical affection towards him., something he had mostly forgotten following his arrival at your place. Sometimes, you would run your fingers in his hair, and he adored that. He adored everything you were doing to him. You were like an angel, his saviour. The one who almost brought him back to life.

Some moments were certainly funnier than others. When Arthur started feeling better, he finally had the occasion to take a shower instead of rubbing some wet cloth on his body. Poor man spent about ten minutes trying to figure out how your shower worked, absolutely shocked to feel hot water coming of it. You could hear him laugh, not used to this peculiar feeling it gave him. It tickled him ! Sometimes, he would even sing under shower, humming a few old songs with his rather raspy voice. At some point, he nearly broke your hairdryer, not fully understanding how it worked. Oh, and also your coffee machine. Arthur was not good with modern technologies yet.

You had seen him glance through the window for days, looking around your room, reading some of the books you had on your shelves. Once he felt better, he even walked inside the living room and was absolutely amazed by the TV, looking around to see where the projectionist platform was. He had jumped back when you switched it on, swearing at your TV for being so loud. When he first saw your phone laying on the counter, he took it between his hands and genuinely believed it was some piece of decoration.

"What’s that ?" he had asked, not understanding what this device was, looking like a very tiny TV screen

"It’s a phone. I’ll get you one, someday."

"That lil’ thing’s a phone ? You gotta be kiddin’ me !"

"You can even take instant pictures with it. And record stuff."

"Instant pictures and record ? But can you still call folks ?"

Arthur’s rather childish fascination for the modern world was fun to watch. It took you about a week to explain him how your TV worked, how your laptop could be switched on, how he could use your keyboard, having been used to typewriters… or to his own hands. His face, whenever you were switching your phone or your laptop on, was absolutely priceless ! You saw him randomly gaze the ceiling, trying to understand how your light bulb worked from up there. At some point, he kept playing with the switch, being mesmerised by how quick your lights could switch on and off.

"What a progress !" he exclaimed

You had introduced him to 20th century music, he seemed to be fond of rock and roll and awkwardly had danced on some songs from The Doors or The Rolling Stones. At least, he was doing much better than the day Francis brought him, even when he was listening to sad songs like the ones from Johnny Cash. His overall fascination for modern music was beautiful to witness, he even shed tears while listening to some songs he found sad. It was so hard for him to accommodate to this world, but listening to modern music made it easier.

At some point, you decided to take him out to show him the world you lived in. You had bought Arthur some clothes from local thrift stores after explaining him how men were dressing themselves up. He loved tee-shirts and sweatpants, you had mostly seen him wandering around your place dressed in those. Knowing you were going outside to take a walk, Arthur decided to ditch his sweatpants to wear some jeans instead. It suited him well ! You had trimmed his hair every three months, no one would have thought that man was from 1899 at first sight… until he would start talking.

As soon you left your place, Arthur felt overwhelmed by the world surrounding him. He had not stepped a foot outside your place since you brought him back from the hospital following his diagnosis. His first remark was quick to come, he came from 1899, when cars were far from being as popular as they at your time. Where were the horses ? You took your time to explain him that these shiny metallic figures on four wheels were the equivalent stagecoaches, and that motorcycles could be seen as the modern version of horses. At first, Arthur believed horses were all gone.

"So you killed all horses ?!" he gasped, looking somewhat angered and shocked

"Of course not !" you chuckled. "We just don’t use them anymore, but we don’t kill them. Cars are way faster than horses, so that’s why they got built. For us to travel faster."

"What’s the point of goin’ faster if you can’t take time to look around ?"

"Our society makes us want things fast, and cars are one of the tools which allows us to be faster."

Arthur nodded. What an overwhelming sight, a massive amount of information to process ! He wanted to analyse one of the cars parked nearby and moved on to the road to gaze at the wheels, a bus nearly ran into him as you jerked him towards you. Arthur looked petrified when as the bus passed by so fast, clinging his fists onto your shirt. He was obviously not used to see vehicles move at such speed!

"Good lord !" he gasped. "I nearly got killed right here !"

"Alright, I think you’re going to hold my hand."

Arthur did not respond, he did not even react when you grabbed his hand. You started walking on the sidewalk, keeping Arthur close to you while he kept looked around, nearly stumbling a few times, not looking where he was going. You almost felt like you had a giant child with you as he spent about a third of his time asking you what this place was, why there were green and red lights, why the buildings were sometimes this high, where were the sherifs. At some point, he even stopped your walk to glance at the store, exposing clothes for women. Some casual high-waisted shorts with black shirts.

"So women only wear underwear now ?" he asked. "They ain’t covering their ankles anymore ?"

"Some still do. Depending on your cultural beliefs, you can cover your ankles, your hands, or your head."

"And women walkin’ around in their actual underwear is acceptable now ?"

"No. Men and women can’t just walk in their underwear."

You were not ready to explain him anything about swim wear, he would probably confuse bikinis and boxers with actual underwear. Arthur was discovering a new world, enough for you to smile at him when he was stopping to look at casual things which were not this casual in his time. He even got completely amazed by a screen moving on a nearby billboard, showing an image of a Neil Armstrong going during the landing on the moon. An exhibition about Apollo 11 was currently available in your city.

"What’s that ?" he asked, pointing at the image

"What ? The rocket ?"

"I get it’s a rocket, but why is thy feller going down ? Where was he ?"

"Oh, that’s Neil Armstrong about to set foot on the moon. There’s an ex…-"

"Someone set foot on the moon ?!"

He was shocked by this, as his core memory was still focused on 1899, with electric chairs still in progress and planes being only prototypes. Arthur would have been around 106 years old in 1969, provided he did not have tuberculosis, survived two World Wars, the Wall Street Crash of 1929 and the Military Administration until 1944. You decided to take him to the exhibition for him to learn more about the events which led to the Apollo 11 mission, Arthur did not let go of your hand, asking you several questions about the short movies displayed, spatial suits, even what a rocket looked like. His puppy eyes glancing around the exhibition made your day more bright, he was almost not the same man the one Francis had brought you months ago !

After the exhibition, you took a break in the park. Arthur casually took a cigarette out of one of his pockets. He was looking at people walking by, families and simple town folk, dressed so differently than people from his own era. For months, he had not left your place, he barely knew what people looked like and how they behaved. He still tried greeting them, but a vast majority of them did not respond to his peculiar politeness. People did not greet each other anymore, at least in cities, and it somehow made him sad. Arthur suddenly turned back to you and pointed a plane passing above your city.

"Y/N ! What’s that ?!"

I"t’s a plane, Arthur." you smiled. "People take them to travel faster. Faster than cars."

"Can we try goin’ on a plane ?"

"Sure thing, but not now."

"That’s so amazing ! I wasn’t born in the right era !"

You wanted to contradict him. As far as you knew, you had experienced numerous financial crises, were on a brink of a new war and had gone through a global pandemic. You deeply wanted to tell Arthur that he was somewhat wrong, but the sheer innocence he kept displaying made you change your mind. In no way could you spoil this moment, stop the discovery of this new world.

After a day wandering around the city, Arthur felt exhausted. He had not walked this much for weeks, still trying his best to remain in shape while being around your place, carrying the groceries from your car to the kitchen, sometimes doing the laundry for you, cleaning the plates when you were not home while watching TV. He enjoyed watching documentaries to learn more about the your own world and like sitcoms like F.R.I.E.N.D.S. and Malcolm, often asking you to watch these with him. You still requested him to help you to prepare some food, to which he obliged. He loved doing this and secretly loved being with you.

You ate before the TV, watching an old romantic movie you could not even name. Arthur nearly fell asleep in the process while his arm carefully moved around your shoulders. You smiled as you noticed him slowly drifting into sleep, still strong enough to make a very first move towards you. He had done that before, mostly preferring short embraces or resting his head on your shoulder at times, allowing you to kiss his forehead or his cheek. This was a big move !

"Arthur, go to bed." you smiled, gently passing your hand through his hair you had cut yourself

"Hmmm… yeah…"

Arthur rose from your couch and limped towards your bedroom, getting his jeans off to fall on the bed. His legs were so painful, enough for him to struggle lifting them up ! You calmly approached him, dragging a blanket above him, his eyes remained open.

"Care to join me ?" he smiled

"Well… why not."

You took a few clothes off, slipping under the blanket as Arthur dragged you into a very sudden embrace. You had almost forgotten how your own bed felt like, being used to your sofa. His warm body made you feel safe, very safe. His arms were wrapped around your waist, he had forgotten how great it felt to have someone to embrace. He kissed the top of your head as the two of you drifted asleep, leading you to wake up alone the next day. You glanced around, stretching a little as you heard the faint sound of your coffee machine in the living room, leading you to leave your room to come face to face with Arthur standing before the counter, having prepared you a warm coffee.

"Mornin’ darlin’." he smiled. Made you some coffee.

Arthur looked delightful, wearing a large white top with a pair of green boxers you had thought would be cool on him. He was also wearing these funny winter-themed socks you had offered him on a random occasion ! A pair of red socks with Christmas trees and stars on the. He first thought they were ridiculous, but came to enjoy them, cherishing them like any gift you were willing to offer him. He had even baked a chocolate cake !

"Morning." you smiled, kissing his cheek while he was sipping his coffee, causing him to blush. "Didn’t know you could use the oven !"

"Well… I tried some stuff." Arthur answered with a large smile. "Red a book and cooked."

You smiled even more more at Arthur’s sudden pride. He did really well, the cake tasted great. At first, you had forbid him to use the oven, being persuaded he would cause much more trouble than expected. You did not want to come back from work and find out that your place was one fire because Arthur was not able to understand how your oven worked. These past months were fun and you looked up for what was ahead. Arthur was just a man from another time, lost in a world that was not his… but, at least, he was no longer ill and was doing alright, mostly !

to be continued, maybe, maybe

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #gender neutral #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption au #azurestales #our modern boah #modern arthur morgan #my gifs

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inposterumcumgaudio · 9 months

Note

now it's your turn to talk about Haworth and Verloc >:)

The relationship in my fic that I get the most specific and vehement feedback about!

The foundation of information you're going to need… I'm gonna try and stick to just canon and not my extrapolations so this isn't insurmountably long, all the same, it's gonna get real tl;dr in here.

Let's start with Haworth's patient notes.

From this, we can see Haworth has regular intervals of incidents every four days. We can tell too from Harry Plantagenet's and Gemma Olsen's notes that incidents result in increased dosage of Coconut, but that Haworth (who has been there the longest, four years) has a notably lower dosage than either of them. He still gets this increased dosage after an incident, but given the length of his time there and the regularity of his incidents, it should be much higher than it is. His dose increases are also smaller than theirs.

So based on those notes alone (and that he gets the privilege of the extra tea biscuit) we can see that Haworth is being treated more carefully than any of Verloc's other test subjects. And also that something is happening on a regular enough schedule that causes him to act out every four days.

Still, all that says really is that Verloc has a prized pet in his menagerie. That is how I write Haworth's interpretation this situation. He believes Verloc has imprisoned him in order to commandeer his laboratories and now keeps him well-fed so he can come down and gloat about it. Thus he remains "very aggro, especially in the presence of Dr. Verloc."

But let's go back to what the environment tells us.

You know what there's a notable absence of at Haworth Labs? Self-aggrandizing Verloc bullshit. Compare to Wellington Health, where Verloc has apparently donated multiple large statues of himself. Indeed, the only statue at Haworth Labs is of Haworth (and an unknown female coworker). The only thing telling you Verloc is in charge there is his photo hanging outside his office… next to Haworth's (although Verloc's is a smidge bigger). Typically after a transition of power, you'd replace a photo like that, maybe doodle a mustache and glasses on it if the guy didn't already have both. You wouldn't leave it there and hang your own next to it. That same hallway also contains Haworth's phrenological memorabilia. Verloc is said to have spoken disparagingly of Haworth's phrenological study in a note from Sally to him, so we can assume Verloc didn't put stock in it, but he hasn't taken that stuff down either.

And bear in mind, all of this is what Arthur remembers about Haworth Labs. I think there is some room to assume that things that are not important to the player character may be overlooked in memory, so what they do remember is all the more apparent.

There is also a cut diary entry from Madame Wanda about Verloc that I always thought was interesting in this context.

That she notes that people keep misremembering Verloc as Joy's inventor but that the Labs are named for Haworth is how she remembers correctly… If Verloc only wanted the fame and glory of being in charge of Joy production, it would be so easy to rename the labs and get rid of any mention of Harry Haworth. But instead, Arthur can't help but note the very concerted effort to remind anyone who comes to Haworth Labs who they have to thank for their wonderful Wellie lifestyle… even if that man is currently thought to be on holiday.

So maybe the idea that Verloc put Haworth in the glass cell in a spiteful heir-to-the-throne gambit is not the full shape of it. And with that acknowledgement, you can now read the note "Dr. Haworth" in a more charitable light than the game led you to interpret it at first glance.

Who did we get the idea that Verloc ousted Haworth from exactly?

Gemma.

Let's look at Gemma's notes about Verloc.

Most of the stuff about his personality I think is true. Or true enough. What's more interesting here is Verloc's history. He was born in 1926, making him 14 when he was sent to Wellington Wells in 1940 to escape the Blitz. He lived with an uncle until said uncle dies at age 48 in 1954. Verloc would have been 28. He would have been 21 in 1947, when the children leave on the train. He's unmarried, childless, living with his uncle (who is similarly childless if Verloc inherits his house).

And Verloc doesn't take Joy. That's the important thing. He does not participate in the most important civic activity of Wellington Wells. He's also one of the few people who will not wear a Happy Face mask. He behaves apart of the townspeople. He is not one of them.

And frankly, if you kept your head throughout the town's recent history, you'd probably judge these people very harshly. They let their children be taken, they killed the only people who tried to fight back, attacked anyone who might have had a child after, and they medicate themselves stupid to forget they behaved as cowards and savages. Again, it's easy for Verloc to think that of them. He has no stake in the game and he's not invested in his neighbors.

But he's not wrong either.

And if that's how he feels about them, it only makes sense that he's vain, thinks he's better than everyone else, and doesn't care about anyone unless they can do something for him.

If that's true though, what would make him so invested in Harry Haworth, the very man who enables these awful people to pretend they are not?

You know what there's a noted lack of at Wellington Health? Reverence for the savior of Wellington Wells and inventor of Joy, Harry Haworth. Not even a sculptural fountain piece donated by Haworth himself. He provided the town with its biggest medical breakthrough in living memory and yet there's no acknowledgement of that at Wellington Health.

Likely because Haworth is not an alumnus of Wellington Health's medical school. Which means he likely isn't from Wellington Wells itself. Perhaps he's an outsider, like Verloc is. And he's educated and doctorated. Mainland educated and doctorated. I think the evidence leans more to Haworth being a psychologist rather than a chemist, but he must know enough chemistry to have led his team to Joy. Combine all that with Haworth also being roughly the same age as that dead uncle (he and Haworth are only six years apart in age)? Compelling circumstances. A guy could become inappropriately obsessed.

But it's Gemma's notes on Haworth that suggest Verloc double-crossed him.

"Sense of duty."

"Became unsound."

"Gone a bit fuzzy."

"Not daft at all! Verloc backstabbed him."

"Objected to Verloc's methods."

Note that these statements are in quotes whereas Phrenology???? is not. Which means these are things that were said to Gemma. By whom though?

Going to guess that Victoria might be the first one as a sense of duty is a thing she's known to value in a person and she speaks fondly of Haworth in her quest notes. It's separate of the other statements, which makes sense. She'd certainly not be saying anything like the rest of these quotes, even if she thought them.

"Gone a bit fuzzy," is from Verloc in the O' Courant article about Haworth's disappearance. It's the most downplayed statement about Haworth's mental health, but it's also in the O' Courant so it's hard to say how much of that is Verloc playing it off and how much is spin to keep people from worrying.

As to the others, there's no way to tell who said any of them. Sally might have reason to imply Verloc to be two-faced like that, but she also never mentions Haworth in her own act so I find that unlikely. (I do, however, think she's lying to Gemma about Verloc inventing Sunshine). Beatrice Reeve of the Executive Committee has also been known to talk shit about my boy, but to do so to the press? Nnnn.

I do have one Hail Mary theory about this.

Gemma had to get her top secret internal Haworth Lab memos from someone within the company. And there is unrest in the labor pool as comes to a head in We All Fall Down. In the labor strike speech, a guy named Ronnie interrupts to make a snide comment.

Worker: Now listen! This labour action is important! We ain't striking for a nice hot lunch! Ronnie: -- like last time -- Worker: Shut up, Ronnie! No! We are trying to do our job, and we can't, as those who are in charge have gone completely off their trolley. Doctor V's failure to ensure the Joy supply strikes at the very heart of our civilization! These are the times that try men's souls, they are - yes, Edith, also women's souls too, I know - and we have all got to hang together! And if any Doctors are listening in, this is no time for partisan bickering! There's only one person who ever made the trains run on time here at Haworth, and that's Sally Boyle. We want Sally back! We need Sally back! Worker: We want Sally Boyle! We want Sally Boyle! (x2)

And as it so happens, a Ronald Norrish is also the guy who complained about the results of the A-329 formula on Vanessa Tinker-Bell. If the goal is to get Verloc ousted from his position and you're off the record? Well, it doesn't really matter if it's true or not, does it? If you've been in the basement and saw how mad Haworth was about it (which Norrish would have if he's attending to Vanessa), you'd certainly think it was true. Haworth also probably doesn't seem so crazy at the moment either, if he's fooling the staff enough to merit a note about it.

As to the other statements about Haworth's mental state, they similarly cannot be confirmed or denied by these unattributed quotes alone. However, we do have Victoria's secondhand account in her quest notes for "Ill Omens".

Trust him? Ha. We needed someone to get things done. Harry was falling apart... the way Father describes it, it was really quite sad, the way Haworth got. Verloc was just there. He was available. Willing to take on the burden. Eager, even. He gave the impression of a man who could get things done. So we let him.

Victoria's not an entirely informed narrator and she is relaying something General Byng stated, not something she witnessed herself, but given that Haworth did seem quite proud of his invention that rendered five of his assistants mute... I think it tracks that even if he seems sane enough to Ronald Norrish now, he may not have to General Byng back in 1960.

Haworth's patient notes say he was admitted November 10th, 1960, exactly one month after he sends Verloc a copy of a paper he wants to submit to the Executive Committee. And they seem to be on quite friendly terms to judge by the forward:

Dear Anton,

Am enclosing the latest draft of the paper I was telling you about Friday last. Have made much progress, and | greatly anticipate showing it to the Committee. Any input would be most welcome. I really think I am on to something here — really appreciate all your encouragement!

Harry

This would have been six months after Haworth supposedly disappeared if he disappears on April 6th, 1960.

You will note that this article is dated 1964. But that cannot be, if Harry's been in his glass cell since 1960... unless Arthur is assuming its from the current year. We only get to read this article as Arthur and he'd have no reason to assume it was older. He doesn't get any contradicting info until he gets to Haworth Labs and sees Haworth's patient notes. Do note too that this article is also accompanied on Gemma's conspiracy board by a piece about Johnny Bolton before he went insane. How long ago might that have been? She's been digging through the archives, is the point.

To recap, Haworth disappears on his way to a meeting with General Byng on April 6th, Verloc is interviewed for an article asking for his whereabouts on the 9th, but Haworth appears to be on good terms and quite friendly with him six months later in October. A month after that, Verloc imprisons Haworth in the glass cell, but at the same time keeps Haworth's name and contributions to society prominent in the public mind. And Haworth has a very strange and regular experiment schedule compared to his much more erratic cellmates'. Very curious!

Well, those circumstances have to make sense somehow. I know what I think happened here, but this post is already soooo long with just the facts as is.

#harry haworth #anton verloc #we happy few

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coffeecat1983 · 9 months

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Then and Now: Library (Mario movie fluff)

A fluff piece about the Bros first visit to the Brooklyn Public Library, feat Tony and Arthur.

8-year-old Luigi held tightly to his mother's hand as he stuck close to her side, eyes wide as he looked around the big building. Mario, meanwhile, was taking it all in with a vibrant excitement. Both were clutching their own red and green book bags. "We can really get our own library cards?" he asked. Giovanni nodded, a smile on his face. It was the weekend and Giovanni and Marianna decided to treat the boys to their first trip to the main Brooklyn Public Library. Arthur and Tony had tagged along. "You boys are old enough and have shown you can take care of your things, so I think you can have the responsibility of taking care of library books." Giovanni said. "Not just the books, either," Marianna added, "there's music and movies, too." Luigi perked up. "Music?" he asked softly, squeezing her hand. He looked around again. "It's so big here." he shrunk back, trying to hide in the folds of her skirt. A warm hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked up at his Uncle Tony's understanding smile. "How about you stick with me, kiddo?" Marianna gave them an approving nod as Luigi took Tony's hand. She glanced around. "Looks like Gio went over to the movies already." she commented. Arthur reached for Mario's hand. "Hey kid, lemme show you where the comic books are." Mario practically bounced as his uncle led him off into the Brooklyn Library.

Marianna turned to Tony and Luigi. "I'm off to the fiction section, you two have fun!" They waved to her, and Luigi tightened his grip on Tony's hand. His uncle squeezed back, kneeling to get eye-to-eye with him. "I know it's a big place, and kinda scary, but I promise you'll like it here. C'mon," he stood, "lemme show you around." "Ma said there was music here?" Luigi kept his voice soft, having seen the 'Please, quiet when in the library' signs that were placed around. "There's lots of it, we can go there first, if you want." Luigi nodded, so they headed that way. Reaching the rows of CDs and Records, Luigi let out a soft "Wow" at the sight. He let go of Tony's hand but stayed close by, looking through the collection. Tony meanwhile began flipping through the vinyl. Luigi recognized the records; he had seen them and the turntable in the Twins' apartment. Moving from the CDs, he spied hanging bags with something small in them. He picked one up. "Uncle Tony, what are these?" he held it up. Tony snort-laughed, reaching for it. "Way to make me feel old, kiddo. That's a cassette tape. You remember that big stereo your Uncle Art and I have? The one you're allowed to put CDs in?" Luigi nodded. He liked that stereo; the speakers were big, and he could feel the music travel through the floor and into his feet when they were allowed to play it. "Remember that little door on it?" Tony continued, "That's the tape player. It can play those. In fact, let me see here..." he came over and looked through the tapes. "Ah, here we go." He held one up, Luigi could make out the names 'Abbott and Costello' on the label. Tony slipped it into his own book bag. "This'll be a treat for you boys." After browsing and picking out more music, Tony led the way back towards adult fiction. "Just want to grab something from here then I'll show you the kids section." he explained. This part of the library was older, the lights not quite as bright, windows looking out to neighboring buildings that blocked the sun. As Tony looked over the books, Luigi clutched his little book bag tightly, nervously glancing around. Another patron walked past, their echoing footsteps making Luigi squeak. He ran over and hid behind Tony, grabbing onto his coat. "Hey, hey it's okay, kiddo." Tony soothed, putting an arm around him. "Nothing's gonna hurt you here." "A-Are there ghosts here? Like in G-Ghostbusters?" Luigi asked urgently. Tony's shoulders slumped. "Hoo boy, maybe your Uncle Art was right, we should have waited with that movie." he muttered. "No, kiddo, no ghosts, just old books, I promise." He dropped a book into his bag. "I found what I wanted, how about we get out of here and go find some comic books or something?" Luigi just gave a faint nod, still looking nervous.

The children's section was bright, well lit, and a bit louder than the rest of the library. Luigi's eyes lit up when he spotted Mario sitting at one of the little tables with a stack of graphic novels and comic books. As he rushed over to sit with him, Arthur came over to Tony, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Like lookin' into a mirror from way back, isn't it?" he said. "We were about their age when we first came here, right?" Tony pushed on his glasses. "Yeah, seven or eight. Speaking of their age, got something here I thought we could read to them." he reached into his bag and held up the book. Arthur grinned, his eyes sparkling. "I call dibs on Gandalf's lines." "You can't call dibs!" Tony grumbled, "We each get a few pages, you know the rules." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Fine, but we do the songs together." "Works for me, just don't go singing out of tune." "The old movie songs?" Arthur asked. "You know it." Tony smirked. The twins turned as Giovanni and Marianna came over to get them and the Bros. "Looks like you boys had fun," Giovanni said, eyeing the stack of comics that Mario was loading into his book bag. Marianna took Luigi's hand. "Did you like it, sweetheart?" she asked. Luigi beamed at her. "Yeah, can we come back again?" Giovanni laughed. "Every two weeks, we gotta return stuff then anyway." As they headed up front and began to check out, Tony showed Giovanni the book he had picked out. His older brother's expression softened at the sight. "Thought Art and I would read it to the boys." Tony explained. "Just like I read it to you two. Care if I listen in sometime? It's been a long time since I read it." Tony felt a rush of excitement at the thought. "I'd like that, Gio. I'd like that a lot." He glanced at his twin. "I think Arthur would, too."

That night, after the Bros were all tucked in for bed, Tony and Arthur sat side by side. Giovanni stood in the bedroom doorway. Tony opened the book and began. "In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit..."

By "CC"

#fanfic #luigi #mario #mario movie #super mario bros #uncle tony #uncle arthur #real lfe references #autism spectrum #fluff

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

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1000 Follower Celebration! *Closed*

We've hit 1000 followers!

I legit can't believe it but we did it! Thank you all so much for all your support and for sticking around. You guys make writing fun and constantly inspire me everyday to be better.

So as a thank you, here's a special celebration!

Celebration masterlist!

Choose a character (or two 😏), some prompts and/or tropes, and an AU if you want

Prompt:

1: “God you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

2: “I want to fuck you until you can only remember my name.”

3: “Can he fuck you like this?”

4: “Can I kiss you?”

5: “Every moment of my life, every decision I’ve ever made, has led me to you and I don’t regret it. Not for a single second.”

6: “I want to have her babies.”

7: “Wife me up.”

8: “I burn for you.”

9: “You make me so mad. So fucking mad. But I will never, never leave you. You’re mine and I’m yours. Forever.”

10: “I can’t do this anymore.”

11: “Let me have you. Please.”

12: “I can’t imagine a life without you.”

13: “D-don’t leave me, you’re my life.”

14: “Don’t come crawling back to me when this all goes wrong.”

15: “I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

16: “Choose me.”

17: “I have always loved you.”

18: “You are my light.”

19: “I need to be inside you.”

20: “God you taste divine.”

21: “You’re mine.”

22: “Let’s break the bed tonight.”

23: “Wanna blow this off and fuck?”

24: “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

25: “We could go anywhere. As long as I’m with you, I’m home.”

26: “Please, I can’t lose you.”

27: “You and I are endgame.”

28: “C’mon, you’ll be less cranky after you’ve had a snack and an orgasm.”

29: “We don’t have any popsicles left. Can I suck on yours?”

30: “All this has accomplished is ruining my panties.”

31: “God you’re so dumb.”

32: “You’re lucky I love you.”

33: “You better be on that bed, face down, ass up by the time I count to ten.”

34: “I can’t leave knowing you’re angry at me.”

35: “You wanna watch the Office, eat pizza and have sex?”

36: “Happy anniversary, can I peg you now?”

37: “You’re going to be the death of me.”

38: “I’m scared I can’t give you everything you want, everything you deserve.”

39: “Are you naked?!”

40: “I’m gonna suck the soul outta you.”

41: “I could spend years between your legs, having only your cunt to sustain me.”

42: “Can I beat them up?”

43: “So are we just going to stand around all day or are we going to fight?”

44: “I would burn worlds for you.”

45: “I told you to stay put!”

46: “They have your eyes.”

47: “I will never stop fighting for you.”

48: “You can take it, you were made for it.”

49: “You keep going like that and you’re going to end up over my knee with a bruised bottom.”

50: “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Character:

Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Thor Odinson

Loki Laufyson

Peter Parker

Logan Howlette

Erik Lensherr

Charles Xavier

Bruce Wayne

Clark Kent

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

Arthur Curry

Obi wan Kenobi

Anakin Skywalker

Din Djarin

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Castiel Novak

Rick Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Negan Smith

Trope:

1: One bed

2: Friends to lovers

3: Enemies to lovers

4: Forbidden love

5: Deathbed confession

6: Forced proximity

7: Mutual pining

8: Fake dating

9: Opposites attract

10: Single parent

11: Second chances

12: Love triangle

13: Amnesia

14: Auction

15: Arranged marriage

16: Blind date

17: Return from the dead

18: Unexpected pregnancy

19: Sex pollen

20: Truth serum

AU:

1: Soulmate

2: A/B/O

3: Supernatural

4: Royal

5: Modern

6: Sugar Daddy

7: Mob

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xnewbiewriterx · 10 months

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Certain Things

Okay, I promise that everything I post will not be a song fic. I'm just trying to share some pieces I already wrote before I start anything new. This is another character x reader, but this time they're getting married. This is one of my favorite pieces, and I hope you like it as well. Enjoy 😁

WC: 845

Song: "Certain Things" by James Arthur (bold italics are lyrics)

Deep breath.

Inhale…

Exhale…

I stared in the mirror, unable to recognize the woman that was staring back at me.

She was breathtaking.

Her hair was split into two braids that met into a bun and she had some loose curls to frame her face. Something simple, yet regal.

Her makeup wasn’t anything dramatic, either. Very natural, with a hint of glitter dusting her cheekbones. I met the woman’s gaze and my breath caught in my throat. The deep blue eyeshadow that decorated her eyes made the golden honey irises pop; it contrasted beautifully with her chocolate brown skin.

I glanced down at the woman’s dress. It was a navy blue ball gown that hung off of her shoulders. The sleeves were embellished with blue flowers, along with the bodice, which was cut into a deep V plunge.

She was also wearing a veil. It was clipped into her hair and trailed behind her like a cape. Her neck and earlobes were adorned with diamond jewelry that sparkled in the sunlight coming from the window. And on her left hand, there was a pear cut diamond ring on her ring finger.

The woman seemed to glow, almost as if… she wasn’t human. Yeah, that’s it. This woman was too graceful, too elegant. Ethereal, goddess-like, even. Her brown skin glistened in the light; she looked divine.

It was really hard to believe that the woman in the mirror was me.

Deep breath.

Inhale…

Exhale…

A knock at the door shook me out of my thoughts. I spared the woman in the mirror one last glance before turning around to open the door.

My dad was on the other side, fidgeting with his suit.I shook my head, smiling softly.

“Dad, stop,” I pulled his hands down to his side. “You’re gonna wrinkle your suit.”

I smoothed out his tux, picking off invisible lint to hide my own nervousness. “You look great, I promise.”

He nodded his head and took a deep breath.

“You ready?”

Inhale…

Exhale…

“Yes.”

Breathe.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

I looped my arm with his, holding on extra tight. I heard the music begin to play and I had to fight back my tears; my sister would kill me if I messed up my makeup.

This is it. This is really happening.

Something about you

It's like an addiction

Hit me with your best shot, honey

My dad led me out the room and down a short hallway. I left the decorations to my mother, so this is my first time seeing everything put together.

This is…beautiful.

It’s everything I imagined and more.

I've got no reason to doubt you

'Cause certain things hurt

And you're my only virtue

And I'm virtually yours

“Dad, I’m scared.” I kept my gaze straight, worried that if I looked anywhere else, I might trip.

I heard him sigh.

“Me too.”

We came to stand in front of a pair of double doors that opened to the outside. The glass was stained, so I could only see shapes and shadows of what laid on the other side.

Inhale…

Exhale…

There's something about you

It's when you get angry

You have me at your mercy

The doors opened.

Here we go.

“Don’t let me fall,” I whispered.

And you're like a shoulder to turn to

“Never.”

Cause certain things burn

Just when we're hanging on for dear life

We began walking down the aisle. I saw everyone stand up, but I wasn’t really paying attention- not to them at least. My eyes were locked on him.

We held on so tight

The love of my life.

And there’s certain things that I adore

I’ve never really thought that I would actually reach this point. Don’t get me wrong, I always dreamed of getting married and having a big wedding. Of writing my own vows, professing my love for my amazing partner. I just guess I never really believed something so grand could be in the works for me.

As we gazed into each other's eyes, I couldn’t help but wish that this aisle was shorter. I’ve finally found my happy ending, my happily ever after and I wanted nothing but to be near him. To hurry up and get this over with so we can begin spending the rest of our lives together.

We reached the altar and as was tradition, my dad placed my hand in his, giving me away. I heard a small sniffle from my dad before he went to sit down.

The song started to come to an end, with one verse left, one that I couldn’t help but sing along to as I stared into my future husband’s eyes. There was nothing, no one, except me and him; nothing else mattered in this moment.

I brought my hand up to his cheek as the tears began to spill over. He leaned into my touch and kissed my palm. I saw nothing but love, happiness, and complete joy in his eyes. I smiled as I sang the last few words quietly.

“Certain that I’m yours.”

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milkywaygg · 1 year

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I’ll Come Back for You-Hetalia Fanfic Ch 1

AU: Wanting to change pace for a little bit and write something else other than just Fairly Odd Parents. Think I’m starting to get burnt out a little bit, and just want to write other things atm. Don’t worry though. Lost Child 8 is still coming, it just might be a while. Also, the Hetalia nations do not belong to me, but the Capitals mentioned are. Not meant to be historical or political in anyway. This is just for fun

Elizabeth (formally known as London) Kirkland looked around curiously as she took her seat by her father, Arthur (otherwise known as England), examining the room around her. It was rather large, and the aesthetics reminded her of her father’s study, but instead of a green color scheme, the rug was a crimson red and there were flowers everywhere. Several water cups were placed neatly in front of the seats, alongside a few pitches near the center, and the windows were much larger than Elizabeth had ever seen.

Being amongst the first few there, England took that opportunity to show Elizabeth around since the latter was finally old enough to attend World Meetings, even if she weren’t actually to participate. England just decided to bring her there so that she could learn diplomacy, meeting etiquette, and the importance of collaboration….or so he thought.

“Last one there gets to pay for Mcdonald’s!”, a loud, excited voice boomed through the halls, as Elizabeth suddenly felt a woosh of air rush past her, laughter following and an annoyed groan from her father.

“Honestly, is that any way to behave? Alfred, this isn’t the Olympics! What in the bloody hell are you doing here in a rush for.”

“Well duh, no one’s here yet, it’s not like anyone’s gonna die.”, Alfred teased, alongside a shorter girl with short, light brown hair, who stuck a teasing tongue out at England before noticing Elizabeth.

“Heyyy London! Didn’t think you’d be here. Is this your first meeting too?”, Amelia, or Washington, also known as Alfred’s adopted little sister, asked. As her father and America started bickering, London smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah. I’m kinda nervous though. I hope I don’t get called on. I don’t know the first thing about running a country.”

“Man, you gotta relax! From what Alfred told me, we’re supposed to be observing or something, I dunno. But I don’t think they gonna call on us or anything.”, Amelia shrugged, taking a seat next to the Kirklands, propping her feet up on the table.

“Young lady, get you feet off the table!”, England snapped, shooting a glare at Amelia, who gulped and did as she was told. Man, England really was as scary as America had led on. How did Elizabeth put up with it?

“God old man, chill out. It’s not like Germany’s here or anything-”, America was interrupted by the double doors opening once more, with Germany and a girl with blond braids that Elizabeth recognized as Karolina, or Berlin formally. She gave the other two girls a slight nod before taking her seat, with a rather serious look on her face.

“What’s with her? Is she in a bad mood or something?”, Elizabeth asked Amelia, knowing that Karolina wasn’t usually like that. At school, she was rather disciplined in her grades but also had a love for sports and loved talking to the others about recent games and predictions on how team was going to do.

“Eh kinda, but it’s nothing to worry about. She usually takes these meetings very seriously anyways.”, Amelia shrugged, “Plus, I heard she finally got demoted as Soccer captain since she hasn’t been doing too well as of recent.”

“Don’t you mean Football?”, Elizabeth asked, “And to who?”

“Juliette Bonnefoy I think. Paris if I’m not mistaken.”

“Really? I thought she would be more worried about her nails getting chipped off.”, Elizabeth said, as some of the other nations started filling in, the table not starting to fill with talking from the older nations.

“Errr you’d be surprised. She can be kinda princessey yea, but lately, she’s been killing it in school tournaments.”, Amelia said, “Her offense is mad insane. Her last game she was losing, and then scored 3 points in the last second.”

“Damn.”, Elizabeth said, earning a “watch your mouth young lady” from England, blushing, “Sorry Dad, but man, that’s crazy. Is she gonna be here? I don’t think I’ve had the chance to meet her properly.”

“She should be getting here soon along with Mr France if I’m not mistaken.”

Oh. Elizabeth’s heart sank a little bit knowing this. England and France had never been the best of friends as far as she could tell. If he wasn’t lecturing her about her grades or talking about how much of a slob America was, then he was arguing with France over the phone or complaining to her about him. England had always warned Elizabeth to keep her distance, but from the few times she had met him, she didn’t think he was so bad. Yes, a little fruity, and he often smelled of heavy perfume, but she didn’t understand what the big deal was.

Speaking of the devil, France had finally busted through the double doors and walked in, alongside a girl that looked a bit younger than London was, and had wavy, slightly messy but super long blonde hair. Noticing the slight bounce in her step, Juliette took a seat not too far from where Elizabeth was sitting, and allowed her to get a closer look.

Elizabeth would be lying to herself if she thought Juliette wasn’t pretty. She had the most gorgeous sapphire eyes, and she wondered how she was able to get her hair to look like it was made of satin. The pink on her dress complimented her rosy cheeks as well, as she flashed a small smile at Elizabeth before suddenly casting a nervous glance upward and turning around towards the front of the room, confusing Elizabeth. Was it something she said? As Germany started with his rant on how the meeting should be run,she suddenly felt tension in the air. Peering slightly to her right, she noticed England casting France some strange glances and receiving some in return, both of them trying to hold themselves back from starting another argument. Desperate to ignore it, Elizabeth just kept staring at the front, trying to pay attention to Germany, occasionally glancing Juliette on the side, who also seemed to pick up on the tension.

After a little while of bickering, arguing, and Italy and Isabelle (Venice) complaining (or rather whining) about wanting pasta for lunch, the group had finally decided to take a short recess and head to lunch, agreeing to meet back in about an hour. Elizabeth excused herself to the bathroom before rushing towards the women’s bathroom, meeting Juliette at the sinks, who seemed to be brushing her hair.

“You carry a hairbrush around? What, you afraid a hairstand is going to fall outta place?”, Elizabeth smirked, Juliette looking a bit offended.

“Well I didn’t realize taking care of myself was such a crime! So sorry to have burden you.”

“Relax, I’m just joking.”, Elizabeth laughed, “Swear some of you guys need to lighten up.”

“You’ve been hanging around Amelia, haven’t you?”

“How’d you figure?”

“Telling the rest of us to lighten up is totally something she would say, is it not?”, Juliette smirked, putting the hairbrush away, “I’m Juliette by the way, or Paris. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I’ve seen you around school but don’t think so. I-I’m Elizabeth. Amelia was just telling me about how you took Karoline’s spot as soccer captain.”

“Oui, she was pissed. Chewed me out and everything when she found out”, Juliette laughed, “But it’s not my fault she’s been slacking lately. She needs to understand that sticking with the same old tricks just doesn’t work anymore. You’ve got to catch the opponent off guard.”

:”Yeah. I’m Elizabeth by the way, or London. I’ve seen you play during one of the school matches. You’re wicked good.”

“Yeah well in all honesty, the only reason I’m any good is because I watched Karoline play.”

“Oh come on, surely you’ve got some talent in you.”, Elizabeth said, finally getting around to washing her hands, “So, is this your first meeting as well or you been here before.”

“It’s my first. Papa actually bought me this just for the occasion.”, Juliette said, motioning down towards her dress, comparing herself to Elizabeth, “I-what are those on your legs?”

“You mean blue jeans? You’ve never heard of blue jeans?”

“Non. My Papa usually dresses me up in these dresses or skirts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen those before, especially on a girl.”

“Yeah well, they’re super comfy. Maybe I’ll take you shopping some time.”, Elizabeth said as she dried her hands. As the air dryer finished puffing out air however, Elizabeth could hear some shouting coming from outside the hall.

“Are they going at it again?”, Juliette asked, slightly annoyed, “Can’t they ever go two seconds without arguing?”

“Yeah. Wonder what they’re yelling about now. Your Papa probably took some of my Dad’s precious air again.”, Elizabeth snarked, using air quotes to make Juliette laugh, “Come on. Let’s go see what they’re fighting about now.”

The girls left the bathroom and walked down the hall, headed back towards the conference room double doors where France and England were yelling at each other, grabbing each others hands, pulling one another in a chokehold, pushing, shoving, and trying to smack each other as if they were children in a playground. Juliette grabbed France from behind while Elizabeth snatched England; the girls struggling to hold their fathers back.

“Dad chill out! I dunno what happened but it’s probably not that serious. Relax.”, Elizabeth said, as England and France started to settle down and separate each other. England casted another glare at France before noticing Juliette behind him, also giving her a weird look. “Come on Dad, let’s just get back to the meeting. Germany’s gonna kill us if we’re late.”

“I suppose you’re right. Very well then.”, England sighed, as he and France made their way towards the doors, “This isn’t over, Frog.”

“Oh ho ho, Is that what you said to your reflection when you worked on your eyebrows this morning?”, France gave a sort of cocky smile as Juliette face palmed, wishing she were literally anywhere else. England snarled as they took their seats back, noticing Elizabeth’s strange looks at Juliette.

“Elizabeth, before everyone else gets here, I’d advise you stay away from her. That girl looks like she can be trouble.”

“Juliette? Dad, what are you talking about?”

“Her Dad probably fills her head with all sorts of ideas and impressions about me. I don’t want her to poison you with them.”

“Are you crazy? How is it that you and Mr France’s petty arguments are our problem?”, Elizabeth snapped, raising her voice slightly but not enough to be heard. England sighed.

“I know it’s not. I just..I don’t want you in with the wrong crowd, and her dad’s probably telling her to be disrespectful towards me. I don’t want you learning from her to be rude to adults.”

“Dad, you do realize we’re teenagers right? Even if what you were saying was true, it’s not like I have to do a damn thing she says.”

“Elizabeth Kirkland, I will not have that language. Just stay away from her, ok? It’s for the best.”

Elizabeth didn’t get another second to retaliate as the other nations started to file back in, Germany included. Still thinking about Juliette, Elizabeth droned out the rest of the meeting and kept focus on her, noticing France whisper a few things towards her who just nodded slightly. She couldn’t help but wonder if France was telling Juliette the same thing England told her. Elizabeth frowned. Why was it their fault their parents didn’t know how to act like adults? Even if Elizabeth didn’t know Juliette well, she seemed nice enough, and she seemed rather fascinated in her soccer secrets. Who did England think he was? She should be allowed with whomever she pleased.

Noticing her staring, England nudged her one again, forcing Elizabeth to pay attention to the meeting. Before staring back at the front, she caught Amelia casting a weird questioning look, with Elizabeth mouthing “We’ll talk later” before tuning back into the meeting, wishing it would just be over already.

#hetalia #fanfiction #londonoc #parisoc #fankids

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alifeasvivid · 2 years

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Three-Part Harmony, human au frukus* smut

*I still call it frukus even though Alfred’s in the middle. I’ve always had a penchant for Alfred as an escort and this isn’t exactly that, but it’s in the spirit of it.

Rating: Explicit, pwp Warnings: DP, smut that’s not overly graphic--it could probably qualify as M+, large age gap (Alfred = early 20′s, Francis and Arthur = late 30′s), an excessive amount of feels given the subject matter, Alfred is kind of a slut, general cheesiness and sap Summary: Francis and Arthur are happily married. Alfred lives with them as their “pet.” Life is perfect.

If there’s one thing that Alfred F. Jones has learned about Francis Bonnefoy and Arthur Kirkland, it is that while the couple (who have been married for ten years) bicker and snipe and banter with each other, they are deeply in love… and when they put their minds to it, they can work in perfect harmony.

And they truly are perfect for each other.

No one else could tolerate Arthur’s often terse demeanor and his verbal jabs that always hit their target with devastating accuracy, let alone bring out the soft, romantic side of him like Francis does.

No one else could simultaneously indulge and even encourage Francis’ idealistic and moony-eyed waxing philosophic tendencies and while being able to rein him in at the same time like Arthur can.

And in pure serendipity, their… appetites are also perfectly aligned.

Which is where Alfred comes in. Or rather where they “come in” or are about to if the way they are both driving into him with Francis moaning behind him, stroking Alfred’s cock, and Arthur biting into his neck are any indication.

Alfred is, as he often is, suspended in bliss, lost to himself in sweat-sticky heat, babbling out half-intelligible praise and pleas while they both murmur filthy adulations against his skin. He tosses his back on Francis’ shoulder and rakes his fingertips down Arthur’s back.

Alfred had met Arthur three years ago when Arthur had been on an extended business trip in Boston. At the time, Alfred was a university student pulling the “stripping is better money than waiting tables” bit to pay tuition, but really he just enjoyed it. During his stay, Arthur quickly became a regular patron.

When Alfred had first accompanied Arthur back to his hotel, he hadn’t quite guessed that Arthur was as young as he actually was. The dim lights of the club and Arthur’s demeanor had led Alfred, only nineteen, to think he was in his late forties or even early fifties, but Arthur was only in his mid-thirties at the time. Alfred also hadn’t known Arthur was married. Arthur had tried to pay him for his time, but Alfred had insisted that he should be paying Arthur for such an amazing fuck.

After that, they had spent almost every night of Arthur’s short tenure together. Alfred had found out Arthur was married about halfway through and he’d been pretty furious at first, not for a second believing Arthur’s claims about his and Francis’ “semi-open relationship.” Yeah, Alfred had heard that one before. But then Arthur had insisted that Alfred talk to Francis and after a video chat, Alfred was just as infatuated with him as he was with Arthur.

On several occasions, Francis had watched them via webcam and Alfred had never come so hard in his life.

He had been pretty devastated when Arthur had to return to Paris, not only because Arthur had more or less become his sugar daddy and he hadn’t been working. It wasn’t the money. It was the fact that when Alfred returned to the club, he didn’t enjoy it anymore.

“Fuck, fuck, ahh! I’m gonna—!” Alfred gasps as the pleasure drowns him and he spills cum over himself, Arthur, and Francis’ hand. Both of them fuck him through his orgasm, kissing him wherever they can reach.

“Ouais, yes, si bon, mon cher,” Francis purrs, silky words that slither down Alfred’s spine.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Arthur grunts like he’s complaining when Alfred knows he isn’t. Arthur presses his cheek against Alfred’s and as Alfred returns from his high, he can feel Arthur and Francis kissing over his shoulder. They’re both close.

Francis breaks their kiss, drags his fingers through the sticky fluid on Alfred’s stomach, and thrusts them into Arthur’s mouth and Arthur sucks on them greedily, moaning and every cell in Alfred’s body wants to climax again—all except for the ones that could accomplish it.

Instead, he whines until Arthur kisses him.

And to think Alfred had once thought he’d never see them again.

About a month after Arthur returned home, Alfred received a call from him and Francis. Arthur had started by mentioning that Alfred would be graduating soon and how he had told Arthur he didn’t have any plans or prospects. He was talking around what he wanted to say as he has a habit of doing when it also requires emotional honesty. Francis had saved his husband: “We want you to come live with us.”

The couple had then gone on to explain what that would entail. Alfred would live with them (he’d have his own room), they would pay off his loans, pay for all his expenses—anything he needed or desired (apparently, he had severely underestimated Arthur’s wealth) and in return, he would be their lover. Their pet. He would be sexually available to both or either of them at any time. Twenty-four/seven, ideally. If he wanted or needed it, he would be welcome to have a day or two off when requested. All of his limits would be discussed and respected, as would theirs.

They said they intended for this to be a long-term arrangement.

It had sounded way, way too good to be true. Alfred had definitely considered that there was a high probability they would murder him. Or worse.

He said yes anyway because he missed them so much and he was already kind of falling for them.

They had even flown out to Boston for his graduation ceremony.

Now, three years later, he sobs in overstimulated ecstasy as they orgasm at the exact same time, harmoniously. He vaguely hears them worshiping each other over how good they feel against each other inside him, but the only thing he registers with any clarity is their cum filling him and how amazing it feels, how it makes his heart swell.

The three of them are a panting, heaving mess and they stay connected for a few moments just to enjoy it, until Arthur and Francis soften enough to slip out of Alfred’s (lovingly) abused ass.

Arthur chuckles reflexively as he moves off of Alfred and Francis and flops onto his back beside them, sighing dazedly with a sated “Fuck me.”

“Didn’t we just do that?” Alfred laughs too as he awkwardly clamors off of Francis, turning to sit in his lap and kiss the Frenchman the way he hadn’t been able to a few moments ago.

Francis smiles against Alfred’s lips. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait, mon coeur. We are all spent.”

Alfred knows that if they really do want another round, they won’t have to actually wait very long. Despite not being nearly as young as Alfred, Arthur and Francis are more than capable of keeping up with him, even outlasting him on many occasions.

Alfred insists on doing a lot of the housework because he wants to do something to earn his keep because having copious amounts of amazing sex with them at their beck and call is something he would absolutely do for free and so he will often be doing something very mundane, like washing dishes, only for Arthur to suddenly appear behind him, fingering him and then fucking him right there over the counter.

Other times, Alfred will wake up on a Sunday morning to Francis sucking him off or thrusting his cock into his ass.

Alfred’s limits are completely respected… he just doesn’t have very many of them and he hardly ever asks for a day off.

He continues making out with Francis, whose hands caress Alfred’s thighs while Alfred grips his shoulders.

“Bloody hell, that’s gorgeous,” Arthur muses, watching them, enraptured. “But I’ve got to piss.”

Francis breaks away from Alfred’s lips and Alfred moves to kissing his neck instead. “You are so crass, Arthur,” he scolds in his thick accent. “Your filthy mouth is going to rub off on dear little Alfred.”

“Fuck yeah, I hope so,” Alfred says cheekily into Francis’ flushed skin. “Hope he rubs it all over me.”

Francis smacks his bottom teasingly. “Don’t encourage him.” He then smiles softly, adoringly at Alfred, pushing his hair back from his face. “Do you know that you are so perfect for us?” he murmurs.

Alfred grins. “You’ve mentioned it a couple times.”

Francis pulls him close, hugs him tightly. “Our happiness is a hundred times what it was before you.” Francis is very prone to becoming rather sentimental after all three of them have been together… Alfred loves that about him.

He nuzzles Francis and settles against him. “Mine too. More than that even.”

The three of them clean up in the shower, touching each other more than necessary, but it’s only that.

Alfred climbs into bed with them. Even two years ago, he would have gone to his own room, feeling a little bereft, but respectful of their wishes. On the nights they don’t fuck like this or nights when they explicitly ask him to, he does go back to his own room, but on a night like this, no one would even think to suggest it.

Arthur is in the middle now, facing Alfred. Francis falls asleep very quickly and rolls half on top of Arthur, to which Arthur rolls his eyes but smiles at Alfred with a wink. He reaches out and pets Alfred’s damp hair. “I think I’ve only just started to realize you’re not some wondrous dream,” he says fondly.

Alfred leans into his hand and kisses his palm. “I don’t know if I’ve stopped thinking this is too good to be true yet.” To be loved this much seems unfair; no one could possibly deserve it. Neither Francis or Arthur ever say those words—that’s something they reserve only for each other, but Alfred doesn’t need to hear it.

He just feels it… a part of their perfect harmony.

#frukus #wfsn #P:

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Text

A Reunion of Sorts (dad!Arthur Morgan x reader)

A/N: Daisy’s middle name is not May! Daisy May is just something John calls her! I have a great aunt who always called my little sister Maddie May even though May was not her middle name. That great aunt always used May as a sort of middle name for my sister and a couple other cousins and I thought it was cute. Find the rest of dad!Arthur Morgan AU on my masterlist here!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none really, all game canon related

Additional Note: Lupine Valley Ranch is Arthur and Y/N’s ranch/home/farm. We already know Beecher’s Hope is John and Abigail’s. And Lone Paradise is Charles and Lucy’s home/ranch/farm.

***

You rubbed your eyes, struggling to stay awake. The night air was just a little chilly but you wore one of Arthur’s jackets to keep you warm.

Cicadas and frogs chirped from the woods that surrounded your home. Occasionally, you’d hear a coyote yip or a raccoon chitter and the underbrush would rustle, stirring you just long enough to make your eyes widen. But then you’d start to drift off to sleep on the porch once more.

“Go on to bed, Y/N.” Arthur insisted, moving to your chair. He was standing at one end of the porch, eyes set on the drive that led to your home. Every once in a while, he’d glance over to you and see your head bobbing as you tried to fight off sleep.

“No, no.” You shook your head, swatting his hands away as he tried to grab your hands or wrists to pull you to your feet. “I want to stay awake until they get here.”

“I can wake ya up when they get here.”

“You won’t wake me up.”

“Y/N, there’s no sense in you bein’ awake.”

“I want to make sure everyone is well and comfortable tonight.”

He continued to try to take your hands but you stubbornly refused to let him grab you, knowing he could easily pull you to your feet and haul you off to bed.

“Arthur Morgan, I want to stay out here with you!”

“What if I don’t want to carry your ass back to bed?” He raised a brow, his tone teasing as he looked down at you. He braced himself on either arm of your chair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Just go to bed, woman.”

“No.” You closed your eyes as you leaned against him, only meaning to do so for a few moments. But your eyelids were so heavy that it was a struggle to open them.

“Pumpkin-,”

“Shut up, Arthur. You’re just tryin’ to get me to go to bed so you can leave and go cause all sorts of trouble you don’t need to be causing.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

“Something’s coming down the road.” Hosea spoke from the other side of the porch.

You stood to your feet, following Arthur to where Hosea stood. You placed your hand on his forearm, watching the light from a wagon.

“That’s them.” Arthur picked up his hat from an end table on the porch.

***

You stood out in the hallway watching as John placed a sleeping Grace down in Daisy’s bed. Daisy was wide awake in your room, pouting and upset that Grace was asleep. She wanted to play, but you told her that with it being so late Grace would probably be asleep.

“Thank you again for lettin’ us stay here, Y/N.” Abigail placed her hand on your arm.

“It’s safer for you to be up here.” You gave her a little smile.

“Uncle Johnny!”

“Shh, Daisy May.” John turned his attention to Daisy, who slipped out of your bedroom.

“Uncle Johnny, when will Grace be awake?” Daisy tugged on his jacket.

“It’s past midnight, girly.” John knelt down to be at Daisy’s level. “You should be sleeping.”

Daisy scrunched up her nose at him.

“I’ve gotta go help your daddy outside.” John ruffled her hair and stood up.

“Can I come with you? You can see Piper!”

“Now’s not the time for that, Daisy.” You put your hand on her head. “Uncle John and Aunt Abigail want to get to bed, I’m sure. If you want to go out and help Uncle John bring their things inside, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the help.”

“Course not. Come on, Daisy May.”

You and Abigail watched the duo make their way down the hall.

“How has John been since he saw Micah?” You started towards the kitchen with Abigail behind you.

“He’s been angry and on edge. He hasn’t been able to sleep none. I haven’t either. It’s hard to sleep when you know Micah Bell is nearby.”

“Well you all are safe now. I don’t reckon he’s dumb enough to come up here.” Hosea joined you both in the kitchen.

“Depends on how desperate he is for that Blackwater money.” You went to stand at the kitchen sink. From there, you could look out towards the barn. You could only see that the barn doors were open and there was light coming from inside.

“I hoped we had left this all behind ten years ago.” Abigail rubbed her eyes and then brushed her messy hair back. “We’ve worked so hard to get away from that. John’s worked so hard to change.”

“We all have.” Hosea reminded her. “That was the only life we ever knew. It wasn’t easy making what we’ve got now. But that’s why we aren’t gonna roll over and give Micah what he wants.”

You watched as Arthur emerged from the barn with Daisy on his shoulders. John, Jack, and Uncle were right behind them.

“I just don’t want anyone hurt.” You murmured. “We’ve got too much on the line this time.”

***

The Next Morning

Arms wrapped around you from behind. A smile slipped across your lips. You leaned back against your husband. He kissed the back of your head, rubbing your side with one hand.

“You’re up early.”

“Someone’s gotta feed everybody.” You hummed, looking over your shoulder to him.

“You didn’t sleep any last night either.”

“Neither did you.” You pointed out.

He tightened his grip on you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he buried his nose in your hair.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously it’s something.”

You tried to move out of his arms but he refused to let you go.

“Arthur, I’ve got to–,”

“Can you just hold on a second?” He moved to stand next to you, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“I’ve got to get breakfast made before the kids wake up, Arthur.”

“Stop messing with the breakfast, pumpkin.” He took your hands and pulled you away from the stove. “You were tossing and turning all night.”

“You know why.” Your voice was low as you held his gaze. “All this talk about Micah coming for Hosea, for us…. I can’t help but get upset and anxious. I’m bound to lose sleep over it. And the only thing that can help me keep my cool is making sure the kids are taken care of and that everyone here has something to eat.”

“We don’t even know yet if he is comin’ for us.” Arthur shook his head. “It’s all just speculation.”

“It would be naive of us to assume he wouldn’t.”

“But it’d be too soon to assume he was. There hasn’t been any signs to point that he was. All John saw was Micah in Blackwater and John movin’ him and Abigail and the kids up here to Lupine Valley is just a precautionary measure.” Arthur brushed his hands up and down your arms. “We gotta take this one step at a time. If we start getting ahead of ourselves and losing it too soon, we’ll just…. Well, bad things will happen.”

You nodded, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Why don’t we go out to the porch for a minute? Just for some fresh air?”

“But the breakfast, Arthur.”

“The breakfast can sit here and simmer for a minute.” He put his hand on the small of your back and began to guide you towards the front door.

The two of you went out to the front porch and sat on the porch swing. Arthur kept his arm around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. He moved the swing back and forth just a bit.

“You know, I almost forgot how much you used to do this.” His voice was low and quiet.

“Do what?”

“Worry. You worry now, but this…. This is a different kind of worry. The kind that I always thought would give ya a heart attack or something.” He smiled a little at the memories that came flooding back from his time with the Van Der Linde gang. “Every time I went out, I knew you’d be nothin’ but a case of worry and fret.”

“‘Cause I wasn’t sure if you’d come back to me whole or…. Or missing something or even if you’d come back at all.” You murmured. “I used to drive everyone mad at camp. Always had to keep busy when you were gone. Chores with the girls or with Mr. Pearson. I couldn’t sit still. Not until you came back.”

“And then when I’d come back, you’d sleep for hours and hours.” Arthur looked down at you. “You never slept when I was gone.”

“No, I didn’t.” You shook your head, smiling a little. “But that was the good thing about camp. There was always something to do.”

Arthur nodded his head. Silence fell between you both. The sound of morning birds filled the air. But in the distance, Arthur could hear hooves against the dirt road.

“Stay here a minute.” He muttered under his breath as he stood from the swing.

Your brows furrowed together and you leaned forward, wanting to follow him.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s coming down the road.” He went to the edge of the porch and paused for a moment.

You moved to stand just behind him, your hand coming up to his back. A horse came into sight a few moments later. It was a familiar one, dark in color with a familiar rider.

Arthur smiled as Sadie stopped the horse just in front of the porch.

“I didn’t reckon you folks would be up so early.”

“Well, we’ve got a full house right now.” Arthur nodded. “We can talk about it inside.”

“Have you had a long trip, Sadie?” You asked her. “I’m afraid your room is occupied right now but Daisy is in mine and Arthur’s bed if you’d like to rest.”

“I can rest later. Who are your guests?” She tilted her head to the side a bit.

“John and his family.” Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “There might be trouble in Blackwater.”

***

“I haven’t heard anything about Micah being this close. Is John sure he saw Micah?”

“He’s positive.” Arthur nodded his head.

“I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on the papers. Wherever he and his new band go, they always turn up in the papers. I haven’t seen anything close to West Elizabeth in a few years.” Sadie shook her head, lifting her cup of coffee to her lips.

“Somehow the standard snuck through.” Arthur muttered, moving towards the window behind the kitchen sink.

“Maybe he’s traveling with a lighter gang now so he won’t make so much commotion.” You thought out loud.

“That would be unfortunate for us.” Sadie sighed. “Well, I hope you don’t mind one more guest.”

“Of course not.” Arthur shook his head, turning to lean against the sink.

“But we are running out of room here.” You frowned. “John and Abigail are staying in your room and Daisy’s sleeping in our room while Jack and Grace get Daisy’s room.”

“And Uncle insists on sleeping out in the hayloft.” Arthur added with a shake of his head. “Old bastard can still make it up the ladder somehow. But I know Charles and Lucy have room over at Lone Paradise.”

“Do they know about Micah?”

“Yeah.” Arthur messed with the brim of his hat.

“How’s Charles taking it?” Sadie shifted around in her seat so she could see Arthur a bit better.

“He’s on edge, like all of us are. Lucy’s gonna have her baby soon. Last thing we need is Micah Bell”

“Nothin’s gonna happen to Lucy or that baby.” Sadie assured him, shaking her head as she stood to her feet. “I’m gonna walk around y’all’s property a bit then make my way over to Lone Paradise. I’ll bounce back and forth between here and there. You’re separated by a few acres, right?”

“From the house here headin’ west for thirty acres there’s a big oak with an old wagon sittin’ there. That’s where my property ends and his begins. Keep goin’ west for another ten acres and you’ll come up on his barn first. His house is just beyond that.” Arthur explained.

“It’s quicker that way than it is going the road.” You added. “There’s a trial to follow too so you shouldn’t get lost. We use it often.”

Sadie nodded and began to head for the door.

“Be safe out there, Sadie.”

She turned back to look at Arthur before leaving.

As the front door closed, he let out a soft breath.

“Feels better havin’ her here.”

You nodded in agreement, standing to your feet.

“I don’t think we’ve had everyone here since…. Well, since Daisy was sick three years ago.”

“Sure feels like a long time ago.” Arthur mumbled quietly. “It’s funny how time passes but things still…. Things are the same.”

“How so?” You cocked your head to the side a bit as you came to stand in front of your husband. You placed your hand on his stomach, looking up at him.

“Micah was the problem back then, and he’s the problem still.”

You pressed your lips together as your eyes lowered to the buttons of his shirt.

“There were a lot of problems back then, Arthur. Micah was just….” You trailed off, unable to think of the right words.

“He was the root of it all.”

Something moved out of the corner of your eyes. You turned your head to see Daisy standing in the edge of the kitchen. She held in one hand a stuffed bear Hosea had bought her when she was a baby. Carson was right beside her. Her free hand held on to the back of his neck. There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks were damp.

“Sweetpea.” Arthur moved away from you so that he could kneel down in front of your daughter. “What happened? What’s got you in tears so early in the mornin’?”

“Had a bad dream.” She sniffled. He used his thumbs to gingerly wipe the tears away. His hands appeared so big as he tenderly cupped her cheeks. “I think I accidentally kicked Carson when I was sleeping.”

Arthur looked down at Carson, who wagged his tail and nosed at Arthur’s arm.

“Was he layin’ at your feet? I know he likes to do that to watch over you while you sleep.”

“Yeah. I-I woke up and he yipped real loud.” Daisy’s voice hitched in her throat. “Did I hurt him daddy?”

“Where do you think you kicked him, sweetpea?” Arthur kept one hand on Daisy’s side while his other rubbed along Carson’s back and then down each of his legs.

“I think his chest. Do you think he’s gonna be scared of me, daddy?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetpea.”

“Carson knows you didn’t do it on purpose, Daisy.” You moved to be next to them.

“I don’t think he’s hurt.” Arthur shook his head. “Think you might’ve just surprised him, sweetpea.”

Daisy stepped closer to Arthur, burying her nose in his neck. He rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head.

“It’s still early, sweetpea. You wanna go back to bed? I’ll lay down with you.”

“No. I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Are you hungry? I’ve got breakfast almost done.” You brushed your hand along Arthur’s shoulder before turning back to the stove.

“Yeah, I am.”

“After bit here, you can go wake up Uncle John and Aunt Abigail.” Arthur stood up and in the same motion picked Daisy up. He took her over to the table and placed her down in a chair. “Guess who will be here later on today, sweetpea?”

“Who?”

“Aunt Sadie.”

Daisy’s eyes lit up.

“Really? She’s here!”

“No, well not yet.” Arthur rubbed Daisy’s shoulder. “She’s over at Uncle Charles’s and Aunt Lucy’s. After while, she’ll be coming over here.”

“It’s been forever since I seen her last!”

“I know. It’s gonna be an exciting day.”

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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#dad!arthur morgan #dad!arthur morgan x reader #dad!arthur morgan series #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan fic #oneshot

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urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

Ivy

Alfie Solomons x Shelby Sister Reader where she’s betrothed by Thomas for a truce, now her and Alfie’s secret love affair is in thin line.

A/N: Here I go again, associating an Evermore track to Alfie. Sorry not sorry!

--------

The air was cold at dawn. You’ve been sitting alone in a cemetery since last night, dreading the moment the day was slowly breaking, and how it reminded you of how time of his arrival was getting nearer.

No, you weren’t there to visit a deceased loved one, but might as well have started grieving for yourself. This was the haven where you would often meet Alfie to either stay and talk in each other’s arms, or where he’d fetch you and bring you somewhere you could freely be with each other for a night.

A full year of secret meetups undetected led you both from solely enjoying each other’s company and wits, to being inseparable. Your special spot was a few feet away from the actual gravestones. It was under a huge tree nearby.

You knew from the start that your fondness with each other would never be accepted by your family. And the odds of them actually even coming close to being open on the idea of you both became slimmer every time Alfie would get power in his head and betray your family despite your friendship.

Months would pass of you ignoring his apologies and notes pleading to meet; To be only forgiven when he’s in Thomas’ good graces again. But it became increasingly difficult to be warry of him when you started feeling funny whenever he’d laugh at your jokes, or when he’d offer his coat for both of you to stay under when it starts drizzling and you both forgot to bring an umbrella.

He’s started a goddamn blaze in you.

Now how were you to tell the lone man you’ve ever loved that your brother was planning on marrying you off for a truce?

You only found out last night, leading to you throwing a fit for the very first time towards your brother who tried to calm you down and make you understand the benefit it would bring to the family – much like what he did to John. The way he told you sounded like it was a mere suggestion. But you knew better that he’s already fixed it.

In a fit of tears and frustration from not being able to give him the truth to why you refuse to concede, Polly barging in the study to intervene and ask what was going on was your take to leave and go to your room, shouting loudly that he better leaves you alone that night.

It took you the night trying to write everything down for Alfie. How you were to be married, and begging him not to intervene. Because as much as you love him, you couldn’t risk him and your family being in another war with the still unknown family you were to be part of.

Sneaking out later on, that’s how you found yourself in your favorite spot in the cemetery crying your heart out, and reminiscing all the memories you hold so dear with Alfie.

Taking a deep breath, your hand took the folded page of paper from your coat pocket. You almost crumpled it and wait for Alfie to tell him yourself. But you were a coward and just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Not when you know you wouldn’t be able to open your mouth without breaking down.

Taking a rock big enough to hold it in place, you placed your open letter under the tree and willed yourself to walk away from both your favorite place and your happiness that morning.

It’s been days and you have not uttered a word to your family. Still crying yourself to sleep every night, it became increasingly harder not to call Alfie and beg for forgiveness and ask him to take you away.

Alfie himself was sending your office missives after missives, asking you to see him at least. But all of it were left unanswered and kept in one of your desk’s drawers.

Tonight, was the celebration of your engagement and the first time you were to meet the man you were to be married to. You’ve learned from Polly that he was from a wealthy Italian family, about your age, and that he’s already seen you before and was actually the one to ask Thomas for your hand in marriage.

What a puss. You thought, He couldn’t even ask you and get rejected personally.

Well at least the dress he sent was decent. But hell were to freeze over before you would even consider wearing it.

Opening your closet, your hands skimmed through your numerous formal dresses, and finally landed on one that meant so much to you. It was beautiful, fit you perfectly, and it was a gift from Alfie.

They don’t know it’s from him, but you had to admit that wearing it in front of your family and future husband would be a satisfying last act of proclaiming your love for the King of Camden town.

The night began rather peacefully. It seemed that you were the only one miserable in the occasion thrown for you.

The man you were to marry was alright. He was polite, charming even. But he was a shy pup compared to a beast like Alfie. Sooner or later, you had to stop thinking about him.

“What’s the Jew doing here, Tommy?” you heard your aunt ask Tommy discretely.

“I invited him, Poll. All bad blood in the past, he’s a good business partner.” He explained to your aunt.

But the rest of the conversation drowned out for you. He’s here.

For the first time in the entire night of the party, you moved from the corner you were sulking on, looking for the pair of opal eyes you were wishing to see. To hell with the Italian boy.

You were turning on every corner looking for him. If he really were in here, you figured he’d be in a corner somewhere like usual.

“I knew you’d look absolutely beautiful in that dress.” A voice called out just loud enough for you to catch. Snapping to the direction it came from, your eyes met Alfie’s.

He was dressed formally as asked, his beard was trimmed, and he had his hat on.

“Alfie I-“

“I’ll take a dance, yes.” He cut you off, not wanting to make you cry in front of the guests. Taking your hands in his freezing ones, he led you to the dance floor.

“I though you hated dancing in public?” you mused at him, placing your hands by his shoulders, ignoring the lump in your throat.

“If this were to be our last one, everyone else be damned, yeah?” He answered, looking at you lovingly. You smiled. How could he still look at you so endearingly even after your cowardness?

“The wine’s shite by the way.” He commented, trying to make you laugh. He couldn’t stand looking so defeated anymore. You couldn’t resist breaking into a laugh, and bit your tongue from telling him the drinks are courtesy of your future husband.

Polly and Arthur were stood near each other, looking at the both of you dancing, when your aunt finally spoke up.

“She hasn’t cracked a smile ever since the night Thomas told her.” She told the oldest Shelby brother. “And all it took was for Solomons to dance with her.”

“Yeah, looking at ‘em makes me almost forget the bastard tried to kill me. It’s almost as if they’re…” Arthur didn’t get to finish what he was to say from the sudden realization. He knew that look. Yes, he’d never seen you look at anyone like that, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was - the color coming back to your face, almost as if it actually lit up at the presence of Camden town’s king.

Turning to Poll, she was already smirking at him. “She couldn’t tell Thomas the real reason she doesn’t to be married off for business. But you’re the eldest, Arthur, and when it’s on matters of your siblings’ personal happiness, you have to put your foot down.” Patting the back of his shoulder, she took her drink to go who knows.

“Is there somewhere we can talk, luv?” Alfie asked you quietly, sliding his hand on your shoulder, to your hand where he held it.

Looking around you, relief washed over when you saw that the guests were immersed in their own conversations and dance partners.

“Meet me in my room in a few minutes. It’s the third door at the right hall, and I’ll keep it slightly open.” You nervously told him, trying to keep your voice low.

Letting go of him, you acted natural, smiling at guests your way.

--------

In your room, you stood fidgeting with your fingers. The light from the crescent moon that peeked through your window was the only source of light.

What if he got lost and mistakenly entered Tommy’s office? Or that he decided to confront that fiancé of yours?

You were saved from the panic attack rising when your door finally creaked open bigger, and the silhouette of the man you love came in.

But before you could talk, his lips met yours desperately. Alfie hoped that his kiss would be able to tell you how much he’s missed you, how the past days felt like absolute hell, and how it led him to be willing in being a mister for you. A mister.

“Are you sure that brother of yours won’t be looking for ya? What if he found us out, pet?” He asked in between kisses to your neck.

“He’s gonna burn this house to the ground” you answered, gasping when he squeezed you in closer to him. You almost hated having to stop him. “Alfie, we came here to talk.” You weakly pushed him off you.

His eyes under the moonlight was glistening. It was only now that you realized he was crying. Taking his face in your hands, you held it gently, wiping his damp cheek.

“Alfie, I love you, okay? Everything that we had – no matter how it was only stolen moments, I’d live and die just to experience them again. But I can’t risk losing you and or anyone from my family for my personal reasons.” You tried to sound brave in front of him, knowing that the second you’d break, he’d take you with him.

He shook his head. “Now that’s just selfish of that brother of yours, pet. You know I could help settle any problem he has with ‘em Italians. He didn’t have to drag you into this.”

“And what, have him figure out why you’d go through great lengths for his sister whom you never seemed to care about?” Whenever Thomas was in the same room as you, the both of you would only resort to a formal greeting and not even try to converse. That was how you were able to keep it up so long. “It’s either I run or we dare come clean to him and see what we’ll become. He’ll find me either way, or he’ll shoot you dead.”

Alfie moved away from you, and walking by the window to take a breath and calm his nerves.

Suddenly the door to your bedroom was kicked completely open, revealing Arthur and Tommy who looked like they were ready to murder.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you immediately stood straight as if ready to block them before they could get to Alfie. But to your surprise, Arthur stayed standing by the doorway, and it was only Thomas who took a step closer.

“Alfie, you have one chance to tell me that what Arthur's saying isn’t true.” Tommy was seething, ordering him. “You of all people know my sisters are off limits.”

“It’s true, Tom.” You answered before Alfie could even open his mouth. If he were to push through marrying you off, at least leave him with the guilt for snatching your life away. “I love him.” Relief from finally being able to say it in front of your brothers washed over you.

“I am not gonna let you use my sister for whatever scheme it is that you fu-

“I was gonna ask her to marry me, you fucker!” Alfie growled from behind you, before finally reaching your side. You stood there gaping at him, having been clueless as well of his intentions.

“I went to meet her in our spot with a fucking ring in my hand, right. And what do I find? A letter from her telling me that some scum wants what’s only mine, and her cunt of a brother is allowing it!”

Arthur having been satisfied from what Alfie said, was smiling at you across the room. “And as the eldest of the family, I give you my blessing, so long as you promise to protect her.” He spoke, nodding at him. You wanted to run into your brother’s arms in gratitude, but Thomas spoke up again.

“Don’t celebrate yet, Alfie." He both looked at you with a stern expression. "There are Italians out there still thinking that there’s a marriage happening in a fortnight.”

Alfie scoffed at your brother’s statement. As if he hasn’t dealt with them before.

Taking your hand in his, he turned to your brother once more. “And what is expected to happen when I call off the marriage?” He asked him.

“I’m gonna start a war” you answered nervously.

Squeezing your hand, he turned to you. “Then it's gonna be the goddamn fight of my life, pet.”

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elsa-writes · 3 years

Text

Alfie Solomons x Reader: Beauty and the Beast

Part 1

Authors note: this is my first time writing for Peaky Blinders, and my first time writing a fic in a while, so please feel free to bully me for my inaccuracies! also I might change the title later cuz idk what else to title this. Enjoy!

—-

Polly pretended to disapprove of you and Arthur’s shenanigans. Reality was, she knew with you around, Arthur couldn’t get into too much trouble. True, it was not the most respectable of hobbies for a lady, to be playing cards and hanging around bars every Friday night. However, Arthur couldn’t be getting any whores pregnant when he had to watch over his young cousin. And he’d make sure you’d stay out of trouble, too. Tommy had a similar line of thinking. Although with this latest scheme, you weren’t sure you had his full support.

“Are you sure this is the best idea?”

“I think,” Arthur paused for a beat, stroking his mustache. “It will go smoothly. You want to prove yourself, that you can function in this line of business, this is it.”

“And what did Tommy say about it?” You questioned. He’d sent Arthur in his place for a meeting with Mr Solomons. You were sitting in the car outside of the distill- bakery. Arthur insisted that you come along to this meeting. Camden Town was a bit nicer than Birmingham-though not by much.

“You know Tommy, he’s, well, you know,” he blustered. In the back seat, Billy coughed.

So Tommy was not aware of this arrangement. “Right.” But you were not going to NOT go in.

You’d bumped into Mr Solomons once. He’d been leaving after having a conversation with Tommy. You scampered away before he could say anything to you. Not out of fear of him; you ran away because you were afraid Tommy would know you’d been eavesdropping. Though Mr Solomons had made a reputation for himself, from what you’d overheard, he sounded like a bit of a clown.

“Are you coming or are you going to stay in the car like a baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” you protested and stepped out into the cold air. “Finn is a baby.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t invite him for a reason.” Arthur punctuated the sentence with a slam of the automobile door.

You adjusted your outfit, making sure you looked proper and professional. “Let’s get this over with.”

A man awaited you by the door and led you inside the distillery. It was dark, and damp. The odor of rum-er, bread, permeated the air. The smell made you light headed. Your shoes echoed on the cement, the loudest sound in the room.

As you descended into the labyrinth, a man appeared from behind a corner. Mr. Solomons himself.

His hat cast an ominous shadow over his face- definitely planned for theatrical effect.

He did not react to your presence. If he recognized you he gave no sign. “Welcome, welcome! You must be Arthur!”

“Mr. Solomons,” Arthur greeted, offering a hand.

“I’ve head so much about you,” Mr. Solomons said. The amusement in his voice was evident. He wasn’t taller than your cousin, but he was stockier and way more intimidating. Billy stood on the opposite side of you, wary of the large man.

Arthur replied, “Shalom.”

You cringed. Mr. Solomons gaze flickered to one of his men behind Arthur.

“Let me just say, Shalom,” Arthur repeated, painfully serious. You felt ill. If it were a less tense situation you would have smacked him over the head.

Solomons tilted his head just enough for you to get a glimpse of the look of incredulity on his face.

“Shalom!” He said. “So glad you could join us for this most joyous of celebrations! And I see you’ve brought friends for the occasion.” Solomons nodded in your direction. You’d been instructed by Arthur to not speak too much or get involved. The same went for Billy.

Arthur shifted on his feet. “This is my cousin, and my associate. Shall we discuss business?”

“Cousin, eh? From the sounds of it, there’s a new Shelby every fucking week.” Mr Solomons chuckled. “Come along, come along.”

He lead you into a room with a table in the center. Something was off. Perhaps it was the comment Arthur had made. It had surely offended them. The Solomons men hadn’t even looked at you. Not that you wanted to be looked at. It was unusual, though. They weren’t even looking at each other.

Something else in the room caught your attention; a goat tied to the leg of the table. It bleated sadly at you. You resisted the urge to pet it.

Mr Solomons circled the table and gestured. You took note of the pipe in his hand that also seemed to function as a cane. “Take a seat, why don’t you?”

Arthur hesitated, both you and Billy watching him before making a move.

He took the chair on the end. Some of the Solomons boys were standing behind the three of you in a perfect line. Another one took a chair next to Mr Solomons, still not looking at you.

Mr Solomons himself remained standing, studying Billy like he was the most fascinating thing on the planet. “And you’ll be...”

“Billy,” Billy said.

Mr. Solomons focused his attention on you. “Shelby?”

“(Y/n),” was your answer as you sat down at the table. There were plates and cups arranged before you. You kept your hands in your lap, careful not to touch anything.

“(Y/n)...You know, out there in the sand, out there in the desert where me forefathers come from... started out as a little speck...”

“Is everything alright?” Billy leaned over to whisper to Arthur. One of the men lurking around had shut the door behind you while Mr. Solomons rambled on. Arthur tried to dismiss Billy’s concerns with a wave.

“Billy, don’t worry mate, yeah, if you want you can leave. If you need to go to the little boys room or something you can leave.” Mr. Solomons interrupted, sounding a little too much like a school teacher.

“He’s alright, he’s alright,” Arthur grinned, rubbing Billy’s shoulder. “Billy boy.”

Your stomach churned. Something was wrong. This was not the kind of conversation that Tommy and Mr Solomons had had the day you eavesdropped. This was not the simple meeting you were promised.

“You want to stay?” Mr Solomons asked Billy; staring at him so intensely you had to look away.

“I’ll stay.”

“You stay there, then, treacle.” Mr Solomons grimaced, and his voice suddenly became much louder. “So! The pharaoh! Have you heard of him?”

Without thinking, you nodded, and he pointed in acknowledgement at you.

“He kept my people, the Jewish people, in slavery for thousands of years.”

“Persecuted, right,” Arthur interjected, pleased with himself for making this astute observation. Mr Solomons eyes lit up with amusement.

“He did, he persecuted my race. killing the innocent, right. So this feast that we’re having here , is basically the day what when the Jewish angels decided the evil fucking Egyptians had pushed their fucking luck!”

“Right,” Arthur added.

“It’s part of our tradition to do this, for in order to make it good with god to kill a king.”

Oh fuck. You glanced towards your cousin. By the look on his innocent smiling face he had not come to the conclusion you had. Okay, keep it cool. From the rumors you knew Mr Solomons was an intelligent man who spoke in idiotic riddles. You could have been misreading things. Sabini could be the pharaoh in the story.

“Right,” Arthur said again. What was Tommy doing at this moment?

“That is the ritual of the sacrifice of the pass over goat.” Mr Solomons said.

Everyone at the table turned to look at the bleating creature.

Arthur looked ill. “A goat?”

Mr Solomons gestured to it. “Yeah, we’re gonna sacrifice it. Tonight. That’s part of the reason why we have to shut the doors as well.”

You wished Arthur had let you keep a gun. You were a sitting duck. Every muscle in your body tensed, ready for the action. No, Tommy wasn’t the pharaoh.

“But this year we thought we’d give the fucking goat a name!” He grinned.

“You named it.”

“We fucking did.”

You averted your eyes as a man put a knife to the goats neck. “Arthur?”

“You named the fucking goat.” He shifted in his chair. It seemed as if he was catching on.

“Evil fucking Egyptian pharaoh-“

“The fucking-“

“And you know what we called it?”

“What’d you call it?”

Your hands balled into fists.

“Tommy Shelby,” Mr Solomons answered with a hint of triumph.

As the blood of the goat spilled on the ground you dropped to the floor. Chaos ensued; a gunshot fired so loud your ears rang. It took a few seconds for your hearing to return. Arthur was screaming. You looked up to see poor Billy slumped in his chair, covered in blood, not moving. You brought your knees to your chest and covered your head to avoid any potential stray bullets. Three of the men had to restrain Arthur, who thrashed and cursed.

Heavy footsteps approached. You scooted back further under the safety of the table. Trying to help him would be useless; you were outnumbered and they had guns.

Arthur went quiet, his freckled face pale.

The back of Mr. Solomons came into view.

“That’s that. So, and the evil Egyptian scum was finally cleansed by the blood of the Passover goat. Mate.”

You covered your moth with a hand.

He kissed Arthur’s cheek twice. “That’s for Sabini.”

Then he promptly bashed Arthur over the head. Funnily enough, it brought back memories of all the times you’d seen Arthur do the same thing to someone else. The urge to laugh overwhelmed you.

Mr Solomons dropped into a squat and placed the gun he’d shot Billy with into Arthur’s hand.

While he was in this position he noticed you under the table.

“Ah, hello there,” he grunted, eyes looking you up and down.

You wanted to swear, or grab the gun from Arthur’s limp hand, or do something very impressive.

He stared at you, waiting for a reply.

“Hi,” you sputtered out. “Is he dead?”

“Oh, nah, that would ruin the fun. You were not supposed to be here tonight.”

“I know.”

“Right. What the fuck am I going to do with you?”

“Let me go?” You suggested. It was worth a try.

He scratched his beard, lost in thought. “Cute, but I think not. That wouldn’t exactly wrap things up nicely, would it?”

A heavy pause lingered in the air. You pulled your knees in even closer, in an instinctual effort to protect yourself.

“Ok. Well! Lads, why don’t you take our guest upstairs?”

“Excuse me? No, no way.”

One of the men grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet.

“Hey!” You struggled to get your arm free.

Mr Solomons stood up and turned away from you.

“You’re gonna kidnap me and you can’t even look me in the face! Fucking coward!” You shoved the man off but slipped in the blood on the floor, letting him get the advantage.

Another grabbed your other arm and despite your best efforts you couldn’t elbow him off. The near tumble had discombobulated you.

Mr Solomons glanced over his shoulder, as cool as a cucumber. “My good friends the London police are here if you’d prefer to go with them.”

The shock of what he’d said made you forget to fight. “Wait, what?” He didn’t have police on his payroll. Oh, Sabini did, how could you forget?

“Get the fuck off me!” You screamed.

The two men dragged you out the same moment as the doors flung open. A group of police stormed the room.

“Fucking animal came in here with a gun and he shot him in the face!” Mr. Solomons gestured with his cane, ignoring your pleas for help. “And my lads restrained him. Look at him! He’s dead! Is he dead! He’s fucking dead!” His false astonished voice followed you down the hall.

You fought back with all your effort.

“Stop fucking fighting, you’re lucky he didn’t shoot you too!” One of them said.

“Oh, how kind! How generous! Please be sure to thank him for me! Arthur! Arthur!” You didn’t know why you were screaming for him. They were carting him off to jail. Fuck. Would Tommy know? How long would it take for him to find out? “Bastards!”

Going upstairs was the worst part; you managed to slither out of their grip and ran up a few steps before tripping onto your face. They at least had the decency to not laugh.

The upstairs appeared to be some sort of flat. The two assholes threw you into the closest room, probably out of desperation to be free of you.

“What are you going to do with me?” You demanded, although you were scared of the answer.

They exchanged glances. They had let you free but blocked the door.

“Well, we’re not sure. He didn’t really give us instructions.” One said.

“I could give you some instructions. How about you go shove a-“ the threat was enough. Without rhyme or reason you charged at them like a bull.

Before you could spring your attack, they slipped out, locking the door behind themselves.

Slamming your fists on the door, you swore at them, every word imaginable.

Once you exhausted yourself you switched gears. Taking in the room; you noticed a bed shoved against a wall, a large, messy desk, and a small window. The style of the room was at least ten years out of date, and was covered in what looked like ten years of dust. This must be where Mr Solomons slept. For someone who had money he didn’t live like it.

You moved to the one window in the room. Here was a potential escape route. Except for the crowd of men huddled outside smoking. They wore aprons, like the others you saw. There was no way you could get past all of them.

But you could once they left. The only issue was making sure nothing happened to you in between then and now.

Who knew what upsetting plans he had for you? He fucking shot Billy. He could have shot you. Maybe the only reason he did it was because the police were nearby. He could be on his way up here at this very moment.

You needed to block the door. Anything to stall for time.

There was a coat rack in the corner that you used. The large cabinet full of decorative China plates looked easy to push; after a few tense moments of pushing you abandoned it and went for the desk. You investigated your work. The door could still be opened a few inches. Anything more than that would be blocked.

It should be enough. It didn’t feel like it. You were becoming aware of the heavy, dull ache in your muscles. Your ribs hurt from you dropped to the floor and bruises had begun to appear on your arms. You sat down on the creaky bed. If you were trapped in here, you might as well enjoy the “comforts” of this place.

A few hours passed. It had to be the next day already. Your thoughts were with Arthur, wondering if he’d woken up from the bashing yet. And Tommy, if he knew you were being held hostage. He was smart. He’d get you out of this. Unless he’d finally had enough of your antics and disowned you. No, no. Polly, John and Ada wouldn’t let that happen. You were spiraling and tired but too paranoid to sleep. Laying back on the bed, your eyes closed as you strained to listen for any sound. Why in the ever loving fuck had you let Arthur do this? When had he ever done anything smart?

Someone knocked at the door.

“Fuck off.” You said, a conditioned response from years of your cousins barging in on you.

Mr Solomons huffed. “Yes, yes. Listen. I’m not going to shoot you-well, I might if you get on my nerves- I have actually come to the conclusion that you may be quite useful to me.”

You sat up. “What?”

Mr Solomons opened the door, and to your relief, it got stuck on the desk. “Moving my fucking desk around?”

“I doubt I’m any use to you,” you said in your bravest voice. “Tommy will be looking for me. And he will want revenge for your betrayal with Sabini.”

He jiggled the door again. It didn’t budge. “Yeah, exactly. Revenge and all that. And I know he’s fond of you- you were at his house that day- so if I have you, right, as leverage, he’ll be less likely to put a fucking bullet in my head.”

“Did you really put Arthur in prison?”

“Yes, and I’ve just gotten word that Michael...Gray, is it, he’s been locked up too. So Tommy is probably a bit busy at the moment.”

Michael? That was probably a lie. A bluff. Polly would be in shambles.

“So are you going stay in there forever or are you going to come out?” Not taunting. Curious.

“I’ll stay in here.”

“You can come out, I’m not going to fucking hurt ya-“

“I saw you shoot Billy in the fucking head! And nearly kill Arthur!” You barked and flung the nearest object you could find, an empty bottle, at the door.

He cursed and shut the door before the bottle could slam into his head. “Didn’t you listen to a fucking word I said? Tommy Shelby would really come after me then.”

“Fuck the fuck off!” Another bottle flew through the air for good measure. This time the liquid contents splattered on the papers on the desk.

“Fucking hell,” he growled. “Stay in there as long as you want then, yeah?”

Your voice wavered. “He’s gonna come for me! And you’ll be sorry when he does!”

#peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #arthur shelby #Tommy Shelby

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shieldmaidenofgod · 3 years

Text

Writing Our History––Part 1

“Arthur, my boy!” Dutch van der Linde called as he spotted the outlaw ride back into camp. “Where have you been?”

“In town,” Arthur replied. “Had to grab some things. Why? Did something happen?” The light from the setting sun illuminated the worry in the cowboy’s eyes.

Dutch chuckled and a glint of mischief twinkled in his eyes. “You could say that. Hitch up your horse and follow me.”

Arthur ended up sitting by the campfire with a bowl of Pearson’s stew. The other men surrounding the fire leaned forward as they listened intently to Dutch’s news.

“So,” he began, “I got tipped off at the saloon today by the barman. Said there’s an enormous mansion right in the middle of a huge plot of land ‘bout ten miles north of here.”

“So we’re just robbin’ some rich bastard?” Sean asked, taking a sip from his beer bottle.

“Not if you let me finish, MacGuire,” Dutch scolded, and the Irishman raised his hands defensively, causing the other men to laugh.

“I also found out that the man of that house, Hawthorn, owns a rather successful tailoring company. He has a location right in the middle of Valentine, so I headed over there to see if I could find out anything else, and I heard he has but one daughter.” Dutch stopped there and spread his hands, as if the conclusion were obvious.

There was a pause while the men tried to figure out what Dutch’s plan was.

Arthur swallowed a bite of stew before asking, “So what, we kidnap ‘er?”

“You always were the smart one,” Dutch commented. “I managed to get a tipoff from one of his servants, if you can believe it. French girl. Poor young lady was barely holdin’ it together, you could tell she’d been cryin’ for a good long while. Apparently, he’s gonna marry his girl off to one of his business partners in a few days.”

“A good reason to demand a bigger ransom,” Charles spoke up.

“Exactly,” Dutch declared, pointing to Charles. “And think of this, if a mere servant has that much of an attachment to her mistress, who’s to say her parents don’t adore her even more? So, who’s with me? I’ll need a handful of men to get this done right.”

All the other men around the campfire looked to Arthur, as if for his permission.

Arthur shrugged. “When you wantin’ to leave?” he asked Dutch.

“Tomorrow morning. Early. Least we can do is scope out the house from afar.”

Arthur nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Dutch grinned. “It’s settled, then. Are you all with me?” he asked the others, who all nodded (except for Sean, who gave a hearty cheer). “Good, very good. Well, we all better get some rest then, if we want to head out by dawn tomorrow.”

The next day, Dutch, Arthur, Charles, and Sean rode out of camp at the break of dawn for the northern end of Valentine and eventually arrived on the border of Mr. Hawthorn’s land by 7:30. They all managed to stay low while observing the house and its surroundings through their binoculars.

“See anything interesting?” Sean asked Arthur, who was using the pair of binoculars the two of them were sharing.

“Not much,” Arthur grunted, handing the binoculars over to Sean beside him. “Lot of windows, though. We’ll have to steer clear of those.”

“I see a carriage. They just pulled it up to the house,” Charles announced from his position, also looking through a pair of binoculars.

“Anyone gettin’ in or out?” Arthur asked, Sean still looking through his binoculars.

“Not yet.” Charles paused for a moment. “Wait. The front doors are opening. It looks like Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorn––I’m guessing it’s them, at least. Ah, that’s definitely their daughter.” He lowered his binoculars. “When do we move, Dutch?”

“Not yet,” their leader answered. “We wait until they’re far enough away from their property and not too close to town. Then we strike.”

<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>

Once the Hawthorns were seated in the carriage and their luggage strapped to the roof, the carriage was off to the nearest town: Saint Denis.

Mrs. Hawthorn looked down her nose at her daughter, who sat across from her and her husband and was engaged in reading her collection of E. B. B. poetry. “Put that accursed book away,” Mrs. Hawthorn snapped.

(Y/N) jerked in surprise at the sudden break in silence. She looked back down in dismay at the loss of her only entertainment, closed the book, and put it in her carpet bag beside her.

“Honestly––” her mother continued, “––it’s positively shameful, being a female author. As if any decent man would wish to marry one. It’s not a woman’s place.”

“No,” (Y/N) countered in a biting tone, a smug smirk on her pretty face. “But it must be a woman’s place to be married against her will to a man she’s never met.”

“You will marry whoever we choose for you and that is final!” Mrs. Hawthorn slammed her fan against her lap in emphasis.

(Y/N) slumped in her seat and crossed her arms, a difficult and uncomfortable position considering her garments and tightly-strung corset, but the action was worth the horrified looks on her parents’ faces.

“This is so unfair! Maybe I do wish to become an unmarried author! Why should you be the ones to stop me?”

“Stop that ugly slouching and sit up this instant!” her father exclaimed.

“Oh, I’ll slouch if I bloody want to!” (Y/N) shouted back.

“Now you listen here, young lady!” Mr. Hawthorn roared and pointed a shaking finger in (Y/N)’s direction. “We know far better what is best for you than you do. I’ll not have you vilifying our family name by running off and becoming some undignified, unmarried hooligan!” he spat, his eyes glinting with rage. His fat mustache continued to wag as he yammered on about what a disgrace she would be to the family name if she did not marry his business partner, but (Y/N) had stopped listening.

Everything about the whole situation was so unbelievably unfair. (Y/N)’s parents had always been rather controlling of her, but never to an extent as drastic as this. Or, perhaps, she had just never noticed how little control over her own life she had ever actually had.

What I wouldn’t give to just run away from all of this, (Y/N) thought to herself, completely unaware of how soon her wish would come true.

<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>

“Okay, move out! Come on! Go, go, go!” Dutch yelled, riding forward in a full gallop behind the carriage.

Charles, Arthur, and Sean, led by Dutch sped after the carriage, bandanas covering their lower faces to protect them from the kicked-up dust and from being recognized. Once they got closer to the carriage, Arthur whipped out a pistol and fired a warning shot at the carriage. The bullet zipped through the very top of the carriage wall right below the covered roof, signaling to those inside that they had company.

Terrified screams erupted from inside the carriage and the four horses pulling the car whinnied in fright. The driver desperately pulled on the reins, attempting to stop the beasts so that no more threatening shots would be fired in less-than-cosmetic directions. Once the carriage came to a stop, the driver threw his hands in the air.

“Pl-please don’t hurt me, sirs!” the driver exclaimed.

“Oh, we ain’t here for you, boy!” Dutch shouted as the other outlaws threw open the carriage doors.

Arthur and Charles reached into the carriage and pulled out a thrashing (Y/N). She clutched her carpet bag to her chest and screamed frantically but the men paid her no mind, throwing her in the front of Sean’s saddle.

“Take her home, boys!” Dutch shouted and he, Charles, Arthur, and Sean spurred their horses into a gallop back the way they’d come.

“Let me go!” (Y/N) screeched. “Let me go, you brutes!”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, lassie,” Sean answered behind her. “We’re gonna be hangin’ onto you for now.”

Once the party arrived at camp, (Y/N) had calmed down, becoming rather apathetic. Sean lowered her off his horse and into the waiting arms of Miss Grimshaw.

“We don’t want to hurt you, miss,” Dutch called to (Y/N) in a slightly smug tone. “We just want some compensation from your family, that's all!”

“Come on now, dear,” Miss Grimshaw said gently. “Let’s get that dust out of your dress and a tent set up for you.” She led (Y/N), who only nodded, away from the horses.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #fanfiction #writing our history

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moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

A Secret Life:

**Gif credits go to the amazing @nofckingfighting your gifs give me life ok. They’re *chef’s kiss.**

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: None really, just some Fluff and some Swearing I think.

Word Count: 3,324

Characters: Johnny Dogs x Female!Reader

Requested by: @atjafshelby, you can find it here. This was the first time I’ve written anything mainly for him so I hope this is good lol. I love getting the opportunity to write other characters. :)

Summary: After a spat about potatoes and a sudden departure from Thomas’ dinner meeting, Johnny Dogs rushes home to be with his wife Y/N and their family, knowing he’d have to tell the blinders about his secret life with them eventually.

The weather was gloomy as the peaky men prepared for one of Tommy’s meetings in the middle of Charlie’s yard. The cans full of logs and kindling burning brightly through the smog of Small Heath as the smoke filled the air. The smell of smoked meat and other foods slowly making their way onto the makeshift table.

In the distance though, was a loud voice mumbling on hurriedly as he stomped along the dirt and soot covered road leading to the feast.

“Right, put the steel rods up the gooses arse there. Go on.” Johnny Dogs said to one of the younger lads who were understandably confused. His eyes watching as they did so, itching to do it himself since no one ever prepared goose the right way. This wasn’t his only criticism though, as he made his way to the table he noticed the lack of starch amongst the men.

“This isn’t a proper dinner. If you’re going to have the Gold’s here ya gotta have potatoes!” Johnny Dogs said loudly as the Shelby’s tired uncle followed the Irish traveler around the yard.

Charlie looked at the man dumbfounded, thinking it was as great a feast as any.

“I want him to see that we live proper, that we eat proper, in the proper way!” He exclaimed.

“No...no you know what?” He added, pointing at Charlie with an anger-filled expression.

“What?” Charlie asked, lighting a cigarette as his infamous nephews came strolling in.

“I’ll get the potatoes me-self!” He exclaimed, clearly frustrated as he stomped through the yard to the old market nearby. His mind buzzing with the thought of his wife and children back at camp. He loved being here with the men he considered allies, but his heart was there with Y/N, always, especially now that she’d been alone with their newest edition to the family.

“What’s he on about aye? It’s just a dinner to discuss the vendetta. Is he scared of the Gold’s?” Tommy said, a cigarette lingering on his lips.

“No he just thinks they’re bloody heathens.” Charlie said as Tommy smirked, walking back to meet Aberama Gold and his son Bonnie.

As Johnny got back, he hastily threw the potato’s in one of the boiling pots near the men. The steam rolling off them as he mashed them up and brought them to the table.

“Bit late there Johnny.” Arthur said, grabbing a huge spoonful of them.

“Not me fault someone can’t prepare a proper meal.” He said, his eyes darting to his pocket watch as Aberama agreed, thanking him for making them as they continued their tense conversation.

“Is there something wrong?” Tommy asked Johnny, causing him to swallow hard as he tried to not tell them about you. It ached him not to, but quite frankly he was nervous to do so. Knowing they’d have something to say when they learned of his relationship status and such.

“Almost forgot, I had some things to take care of at camp. I’ll be back in the mornin’ boys. Don’t get blood all over the fucking food alright?” He said, Tommy waving him off with a suspicious look on his face. He never had men leave abruptly, but if anything he thought maybe he had a whore waiting for him or another feud to handle.

But little did the blinders know what actually awaited him.

“Aye! Dads going to be home soon-no-don’t you dare hit your brother!” Y/N said aloud to her two rambunctious children Alice and Samuel, who were running around the field with the other little ones of the group that were set up nearby. Your youngest, Sarah, nestled on your hip and baby-babbling to herself.

“You’re gonna be full of words just like your father aren’t ya love?” You said to her quietly, going over to your son and daughter who were rough-housing as usual.

“Playtime’s over loves, we have to get ready for dinner.” You said, the children immediately stopping and saying goodbye to the other kids as you waved goodbye to their parents.

As you led your children back to the vardo, you quickly put your daughter down in her small crib near the cramped bed in the wooden structure.

Your tired reflection caught you off guard as you looked in the mirror. Your eyes not as bright and hair not as perfectly placed as before you’d had three children.

You were always grateful to be blessed with good looks that were surely from your mother, but you soon garnered unwanted attention as you’d grown up, the men throwing themselves at you left and right, until you’d seen Johnny one day at a camp in Ireland of course. He was bantering with his friends, fist fighting and such near one of your family’s stops, his smile catching your eye as he laid his own upon you. The poor man got punched because of you after all, making him go off his game with your beauty. But to this day he said he didn’t regret it, telling you in that moment his world stopped. That he’d felt like the luckiest man in the world to have someone as sweet and as beautiful as you by his side all these years.

And so now here you were, waiting for your traveler and infamously rowdy blinder husband to come home. The sun setting in a plethora of colors over the field as the other travelers sat around their respective bonfires.

“When’s dad coming? He’s usually back.” Your son asked, his eyes the color of yours but the shape of Johnny’s, and your daughters small smile like his as well.

“Yeah mum where’s he off to? I wanted him to tell us a bedtime story.” She said, pouting slightly as she watched you preparing dinner.

“Give him time angels. He’s a busy man.” You said, wondering where he was, knowing he’d most likely gotten held up by the fucking Shelby’s once again.

He’s never told them about you and it stung a bit, but you realized early on that he only did it to keep you and the family safe, knowing that nothing good ever came from uttering the Shelby name.

As you portioned the food out for the children, your youngest cried for her food as well as you sighed and went in to nurse her. Humming a soft song to her as she gradually fell asleep in your arms.

As the kids emptied their bowls, stomachs full and content smiles on their faces, you ushered them to their beds, your heart racing slightly as you thought about where your husband could be.

“Don’t worry loves, dad will be home soon alright? I’m going to be just outside.” You said, fixing yourself your portion of the food as you stoked the fire a bit more, the embers disappearing into the night air as you wrapped the warm knit blanket around you.

You’d gotten accustomed to spending the majority of your nights alone with the children, eating amongst the stars and telling stories, but one thing always remained constant, and that was the need for their dad to be home. He made everyone light up when he’d come around. His laugh bringing a smile to your face instantly as he entertained the kids on his off days while you rested with the baby. But now like many nights, they missed him. They missed how he’d make you all feel safe, knowing he had you all out in the open like this. But he knew the company he kept, and he trusted them with his life that they’d take care of you all if need be.

Alas, as you sat there lost in thought, you heard the cries of your daughter once again as you went into the vardo, gently cradling her to you as you carried her outside into the cool night air, the sound of the crackling fire and water rushing nearby helping her fall asleep once again as you bounced her around lightly.

“It’s okay sweetheart. He’ll be home soon.” You reassured her. Knowing he’d never ever leave you sleeping alone, unless it was something serious.

---

“Johnny, before you go, we’ll be stopping by tomorrow. We need to make sure you all are ready.” Thomas said as Johnny walked away from the table.

“Alright, I’ll see ya there then lads. Goodnight.” He said, tipping his hat and walking off towards the horse he’d ridden in on. Quickly riding towards one of the flower fields nearby to pick some for you. He knew they wouldn’t make up for him being late, but he knew they’d at least bring a smile to the face he loved so much.

---

You sat wide-awake with your sleeping daughter against your chest, your nightgown covered by the thick blanket you’d draped over you and the baby. Her soft coos and little snores bringing a smile to your face as you kissed the top of her head. Your stomach still hurting with some efforts as you shifted in your seat. She’d only been about 4 months old, so both you and her were adjusting to the whole life thing with each other.

As you sat there naming the constellations to yourself as you gazed at the stars, you heard the familiar horse hooves pounding on the ground near the vardo. Johnny’s giddy whistle making your daughter rustle around in your arms as she knew he was home.

“Shhh, she’s sleeping.” You said quietly as he walked over ever-so carefully to kiss you, his lips soft against yours as he lingered on them for a moment, taking you in.

“I wanted to get here earlier, with the baby and everything but uh...Tommy got in the way again.” He said, grabbing the flowers he’d picked earlier.

“Are these for me?” You asked, grasping them with your free hand.

“Mhmm. Picked them me-self. Thought you’d like some after a hard days work caring for the kids. And uh, since I’ve been gone so long ya know?” He said, nervously rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

“I love you Johnny Dogs. You romantic devil.” You said with a smirk as you kissed him once more.

“Now tell me love, what’s got you on your toes?” You asked, knowing his body language more than your own at this point.

“They’re coming here, to make sure everything’s ready for the big mission.” He said.

“Christ....do we need to stay in? It’ll be hard with this one crying.” You said, looking down at the sleeping bundle in your arms.

“No...I...I want you to meet them. They’re coming tomorrow mornin’.” He said.

“I see....well I’ll make sure to get up and make sure the kids meet them too. Couldn’t hurt right?” She asked.

“It could soften the blow I suppose.” He said, grabbing the last of the food that was still warm over the fire.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked.

“They’ll take one look at you and drool. You don’t think I see it every time we go outside the camp? You’re bloody gorgeous and you’ve gone and married a fool like me?” He said half-jokingly. His self-deprecating humor hurting your heart.

“They can say what they want, but you’ll always be the man for me Johnny. I wouldn’t have you any other way. You were the first man I’ve ever loved.” You said, remembering how despite your looks, you’d never had the luck of relationships on your side, thinking all hope was lost until that day so long ago. And god were you grateful for him, even if he did talk your ear off on more than one occasion, you still loved the man to death.

“Now go tell your children a bedtime story, please love?” You asked, looking at him with puppy dog eyes that made his heart swoon. He could never say no to you.

---

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of the kids playing out by the river, the wind rustling around the vardo as you heard Johnny helping out with the baby outside.

“I’m sorry love, I was going to get up and help ya but I guess I overslept.” You said, wrapping your robe around yourself that complimented your eyes and physique exquisitely.

“You needed the beauty sleep love. Besides, you’ve done enough for me these past weeks, thought I’d do something for ya.” He said, cradling the baby in his arms as you sat near him next to the barely lit fire, the coals still hot from the night before.

Johnny took your hand in his lightly, the ring on your finger sparkling in the sunlight as you both watched your kids playing together near the river.

In the distance though, you could hear the sound of a car pulling up, your nerves getting to you as you knew it was Thomas Shelby and his brothers.

“Here we go.” You mumbled, calling your children over as the men got out of the car, the kids nearly running into them as their little legs carried them swiftly over the grass. They quietly stood behind you as Johnny handed you your baby girl, her bright eyes looking up at you as the sun hit your face flatteringly.

“Hello boys! G’morning to ya! How’s about we get this meeting done shall we?” He asked, putting his cap on.

“Who’s the lovely lady over there aye?” John asked, eyeing her with hungry eyes.

“That’s me wife. Her names Y/N.” He said, looking John in the eyes as he crossed his arms.

“Oh and who are the children with her? They can’t be yours can they? Wow Johnny boy! Didn’t know you had it in ya. How’d you snag a gem of a girl like that aye? Use any of yer charms?” Arthur said jokingly.

“They’re mine yes, and don’t worry, I did nothing of the sort. She came to me actually.” He said with a proud smug smile on his face, knowing he married one of the prettiest women near Small Heath and the bastards couldn’t do anything about it.

“Well if you have anymore questions how’s about you lot meet them then?” Johnny asked over the awkward silence, Thomas still eyeing him a bit suspiciously.

“You boys go meet them, me and Johnny have something to discuss.” Tommy said shortly.

“Oh...al-alright. Here ya go lads.” He said, leading them over to Y/N and her children, who backed behind their beautiful mother shyly.

“Hello gentlemen, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet ya.” You said, smiling brightly as their stares lingered over you. It was something you were used to, but still made you slightly uncomfortable, so you remained focused on your kids.

“You can have a seat if you’d like, we don’t mind do we loves?” You asked, patting your son on the head as he smiled.

“No it’s ok momma. I’m gonna go play.” Your daughter said, running off towards the other little kids nearby. Your son sat by you though, eyeing the men curiously.

“So these are Johnny’s kids aye? What’s your name little man?” Arthur asked, putting on his nicest smile.

“Samuel. Who are you? Why do ya have big hats on like me dad?” He asked.

The men both looked at each other and smiled.

“We’re in a...group that your fathers in. It’s for people that are nice and strong.” He said.

“Oh...” Samuel said, fiddling with his fingers as he leaned his head against your arm.

“How’d you and Johnny meet aye? Old bugger like him sure snagged a beauty for a wife.” John said.

“Oh uhm...we met by chance really. I saw him scrapping with some people by the roadside when my family were going through and I stopped to watch. He says he got caught off guard by me. He got hit right after eyeing me up.” You said with a small laugh. John and Arthur chuckled as they looked over at Johnny and Tom having a rather tense conversation.

“While our brother’s interrogating the poor man, who’s this little one and her big sister?” Arthur asked.

“This is Sarah. She’s 4 months, almost 5. Talkative little bugger just like her dad. Always babbling about somethin’ aye? And that’s Alice. She hates sitting down, always wanting to be on the go. Guess it’s in the blood.” You said, also feeling antsy as you sat there with half of your little family.

“That it is.” Arthur said, looking around the camp as Johnny’s voice rose in the distance.

“When were you going to tell me Johnny?” Thomas asked, his cigarette dangling from his lips.

“About what mate? Bout me cookin’ and leaving yesterday or bout me family?” He asked.

“About your family, Johnny. You’re like family to us you know. How could you not tell us?” He asked loudly.

“You should know! The bloody line of work we’re in! God knows I’m not bringing them into that ‘ere.” He said a bit louder than Thomas expected, causing the others to look over.

“But why hide something like this Johnny? Not because of the way of our work but why hide it until now aye?” He asked.

Johnny thought for a moment, leaning against the tree near the river.

“Because Tom. I knew you’d all take one look at her and wonder why she’s wit’ a man like me. Ya know I’m not the nicest looking man ‘ere. Somehow how Tom...somehow she loves me and I wanted ya to see why I had to leave yesterday. It’s not just me I’m thinkin’ bout anymore.” He said.

“That why you’ve been yelling at work? Being short with everyone?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah Tom, yeah. Just...please don’t drag them into this.” He said, looking over at his wife who was managing pretty well despite John practically drooling.

“Well now that that’s cleared up how about you introduce me to them aye?” Thomas said, patting him on the shoulder and walking past him.

“I fucking guess. C’mon.” He said walking quickly ahead of his friend as Y/N smiled upon their arrival. His heart skipping a beat at the sight of it.

“Y/N, love, I want ya to meet-“ He said before you cut him off. Eyeing the man who’d put your family in risky circumstances long ago.

“Thomas Shelby. Yeah...I know. Nice to see you in person.” You said, shaking his hand roughly and with a more colder glance than you’d had given his other brothers. You knew Thomas orchestrated everything within the blinders, so he was often the one blamed when things went south, and you had no problem casting the blame on him when Johnny would come home half conscious and bleeding, or limping with a bullet wound or two.

“Pleasure’s all mine Y/N. How’s the family?” He asked, sitting beside Johnny around the bonfire that was slowly burning out.

“Good now that their father is back. This little one is Sarah, the wild one over there is Alice, and our boy here is Samuel.” You said, pointing with your free hand to your small crew of children.

“Aye, so he tells me you met by chance. How in the hell did this man meet a woman like you?” He asked.

You looked down slightly at your daughter who was surprisingly sleeping soundly, her small mass of hair on her head coming in as dark as her fathers.

“I told your brothers already but, uh we met when I was traveling with me family. Saw him scrapping with some other men from nearby, I guess ya locked eyes long enough with me that they knocked you out aye love?” You said lightly punching Johnny’s shoulder.

“Aye they did. Couldn’t stop bloody lookin’ at ya. I mean seriously boys. Isn’t she a beauty? I’m a lucky man. A lucky lucky man.” He said, lighting a cigar as you smiled and put your free hand on his. It was rough from years of work, but as warm as the hugs he gave. He was home to you, no matter where you all went, he was the one constant thing you longed for, knowing in your heart he was yours forever.

Johnny Dogs Tag List:

@flysafepapi, @gaytommyshelby, @ta-ka-shi-ma

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message. :)

#atjafshelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders fanfic #johnny dogs #johnny dogs x reader #johnny dogs x female!reader #johnny dogs x y/n #johnny dogs imagines #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part IV/VII)

"wrong name"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadowss @missmulti @accioweaslcy

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: language, mentions of Fred x Reader, brief mention of death ig (?) Feels

A/N: here's a Christmas fic that has no right to be this angsty lmao, enjoy nonetheless <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

We apparated in the Weasley front yard together at dusk at the same time as Percy did; we greeted him with a hug and entered their old home, only to be met with more hugs.

I had only stayed at the Burrow once, arriving the night we escorted Harry, and leaving shortly after the tragic and abrupt ending of Bill and Fleur's wedding.

I had attended to the wedding as Fred's date. Even if we agreed that there was nothing serious between us, we cared deeply for one another, and I was important enough for him that he asked me to present ourselves together in front of his family.

How odd it was that the second time I was staying at the Burrow, it was because I had been asked to attend this Christmas gathering by none other than George —as friends, of course—; so odd that it made me anxious, but Arthur and Molly were way too welcoming for that anxiety to carry on longer than a minute after I stepped into their home.

"Y/n, dear!" Molly held me back while George went to greet his siblings, who had arrived earlier than us. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"She didn't want to come." George snitched, coming back to us after hugging his father. "Said she felt like she was trespassing."

"George!" My cheeks burned when he exposed me.

"Oh, darling," Molly pulled me into the house to join the rest. "You're always welcomed here, don't be silly!"

Molly had liked me since day one, even before Fred and I became a thing. I was the one to receive her when the Weasley matriarch first visited the shop, and we immediately got along. Fred had explained to me that it was because I reminded his mother of her younger self.

"You're a snitch." I whispered into George's ear as we both walked behind Molly in the kitchen direction, his only response was to stick out his tongue, which made us both chuckle.

Molly looked over her shoulder and I caught in her eyes the same emotion I saw in Ginny's the first time she came to visit the shop after the reopening.

A profound emotion rooted in hope; a bittersweet feeling coming from the thought that, even though Fred was gone, George seemed to be coming back to us.

I felt it too, whenever he smiled. It was lovely to see him actually happy; I wished I could keep him like that forever, even in the nights, when everything would come down on his shoulders, tearing apart every spark of joy might have had in the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We weren't finished with food yet when Arthur wiped his mouth with the napkin and, clapping his hands once, exclaimed, "Alright, time for presents!" Teddy, who rested on Bill's lap, squealed, his hair turning pink; that baby was smart. "I'll get them, dear." He stopped his wife from standing up and went to get them himself.

He distributed the gifts, and I was surprised when he handed me one. "Oh! You didn't have to—"

"Nonsense!" Arthur stopped me, resuming his task with a warm smile. Everyone was happy in that moment, and I knew George's mood had a big part on that.

He unwrapped his, which turned out to be a purple and orange scarf and matching mittens. He was putting on the mittens when I tossed the wrap of my present, uncovering a cardigan formed by several tones of my favorite color.

"Put it on!" George requested excited. unbeknownst to me, it had been him who told Molly my favorite color. "Aw you look fantastic." He observed, poorly wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"Of course I do." I agreed, shifting on my chair to face him, my hands traveling to his scarf to relocate it properly.

Though we didn't notice, it wasn't the first time that more than one pair of eyes observed us that night, and it wouldn't be the last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bill and Fleur had offered to take care of Teddy since they were leaving to Shell Cottage, so Harry and Ginny could spend the night at the Burrow without the worry of the baby.

Percy was terribly tired, so he withdrew from the living room to go to sleep.

Thank goodness he did; Percy was probably the second most affected by Fred death, and after that nice evening, he wouldn't have wanted to witness what was about to happen.

Ron, Hermione and I had colonized the settee, while Ginny and George were on their feet near the table, chatting about some nonsense; Molly was cleaning the dishes. Harry had offered to help her, but she refused, so the boy decided to talk with Arthur instead.

Molly pointed with her index finger at the remaining glasses laid on the table and called for George.

The thing is, she didn't really call for George.

"Fred, darling, hand me those."

The room fell silent.

It took a moment for her to realise, but an instant later, Molly was covering her mouth with her hand, her glassy stare fixed on the wrong named twin.

My eyes frantically travelled to every single person in the room, who had gone livid. We all seemed to be holding our breaths, waiting for some kind of explosive reaction.

Then my attention was drawn to George, whose, until that instant amused gaze, had turned blank and expressionless.

"Darling—" Molly's voice shattered with a single word. As Arthur went to console his wife, Ginny led her older brother aside and whispered things only he could hear, attempting to sooth him. "It slipped..." Molly cried.

I stayed sat on the couch with Hermione and Ron, the three of us frozen; I felt like I was an intruder witnessing a very intimate family moment.

"George don't—" we heard Ginny raising her voice before her brother disapparated. "Bloody hell!" She spun around and walked to me. "Y/n, speak to him, he'll listen to you." She practically begged, nodding her head at the window, prompting me to look at George standing alone at the edge of the cornfield, already making his way in.

"I-I..." I didn't need to look around in order to acknowledge all the eyes laid on me. "O-okay." I blinked away my own tears and rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Molly's shaky hand.

"Please- tell him I'm sorry."

"I don't think he'll blame you." I reassured the wrecked mother, offering her a comforting smile before making my way out and jogging into the cornfield myself.

"George?" When I didn't obtain an answer, it dawned on me how dumb it had been to dive into that area without knowing where to go. "George?"

I yelped when something tugged on my sleeve, making my body pivot on my heel. "You know how easy is to get lost in here?" The ginger questioned in a raspy tone, the hand that had been on my sleeve going down to mine, which invited him into my hold.

"She didn't mean— I reckon she just... Saw him in you for a second."

"I know." Though his eyes did look a bit red, he was calm.

"You alright?" I inquired, taking my hand to his cheek, on which he leaned.

"I just..." Sigh. His right hand travelled up to his face to hold mine in it before pulling away. "I need a moment alone."

I nodded. "Don't take too long or you'll catch a cold." He hummed affirmatively, and I half-heartedly left the cornfield and headed to the Burrow.

I excused George, assuring them he would be okay and, though the previous light-hearted environment didn't return, the tension in the air dissipated a bit.

A few minutes later, George came in; his mother welcomed with open arms and he returned the hug, having a small conversation against Molly's shoulder before making a beeline to me, sitting by my side.

I felt my cheeks flushing as he leaned on me, putting his head on my shoulder; suddenly self-conscious at the closeness between us. Somehow it was different being that close the privacy of our flat, than outside of it. Though it felt somehow inappropriate, when his long fingers intertwined with mines, I indulged him, trying hard not to meet neither Hermione's nor Ginny's eyes —they had been staring so much that I had noticed them an hour ago.

I was completely unaware of Molly's gaze laid on us too.

George, whose eyes had been closed, sit up straighter to whisper in my ear, "Can we go back to the flat?" My eyes met his and I realised we were even closer than I had thought in first place.

"I thought we were staying the night?" I murmured, trying in vain to keep his family out of the conversation they were pretending not to hear.

He leaned a bit closer only for me to hear his words. "I don't think I can sleep in my room."

"Do it for your mum." I squeezed his hand and he sighed. "I'm gonna stay in that room with you." Another sigh, but this one was of defeat, letting me know that I had talked some sense into him.

HERMIONE'S P. O. V.

At the beginning of the evening, when George and Y/n had first stepped into the Burrow, Ginny had come to me, urging me to observe them closely.

At first I didn't know why she would say that, but after the wrong name slipped out of Molly's lips, I started to get a hold of the matter, but it seemed so surreal— it just couldn't be.

Though the way Y/n's cheeks lighted up when George took a seat between us did remind me of the way I used to react when Ron got a tad too close to me in our sixth year.

After a while Y/n seemed to forget about our presence and eased besides George, making their bodies get closer.

When we decided to call it a day and the ones left in the living room started to retreat to their rooms for the night, Y/n got up without letting go of George's hold at any moment and, thanking Molly for her hospitality, they made their way upstairs.

Had my eyes not been trained on them, I would have missed the way George's hands went to Y/n's waist as his chin fell on her shoulder.

I left the sofa and walked to Ginny before she and Harry could slither to their dorm. "Are they...?"

"Not sure." Ginny replied with knitted brows. "What'd you think?"

"I... Don't know." I confessed.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

We entered the dark room, illuminated only by the light provided by the night sky and started to discard our clothes in silence without looking at each other.

I was the first one to finish, making my way to my old bed and catching a glimpse of Y/n's silouhette while she threw a tee on.

I was utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

I had known I loved her for quite a while, but the feeling that had made my heart swell and my stomach flutter when she got into the cornfield without giving it a second thought in order to find me, that was something else.

I had also felt it when she had found me lifeless in Fred's room a couple of months ago; that feeling had been the reason why I found the strength in me to come back to life.

I was young, but I just knew what I felt went further from only love.

"What's on your mind?" She was already slipping under the covers by my side, her arms wrapping around me and bringing my back closer to her chest.

You, I wanted to say. "Not much."

"Liar." She tugged on my shirt and I turned on my other side so we would be facing each other. "C'mon, it's just me."

Words blurted out of my mouth, escaping my control. "Do you see him when you look at me?"

And I wasn't making anything up; It was, in fact, on my mind. It had appeared during the walk through the cornfield and it hadn't left, but Y/n's scent, touch and words had backed that thought to a corner of my mind.

She wondered, tucking one of my locks away from my forehead. "Sometimes, but not like you think." She must have sensed my inquiry because she explained further. "There are small gestures, jokes— things like that in you, that remind me of him." Her eyes were roaming all over my face, her hands bringing mines to her heart. "When you're happy, like tonight— I can't quite explain it but... it sorta seems like he's still here. So yeah, you could say I see a little bit of Fred when I look at you." Her eyes finally met mines. "It's not a bad thing— you love him so much that we can still see him through you."

"Loved." I corrected her, my thumb drawing circles on the back of her palm. "He's dead." A tear rolled down my cheek, but Y/n caught it with her fingertips before it could reach the pillow.

"Love never dies, Georgie." Her replied seem to carry more significance that someone would see at first sight, but I was too tired to discern it.

I couldn't tell if she had scooted closer, or if I had unconsciously leaned on, but the tips of our noses were nearly touching.

Initially, she didn't attempt to put more distance between us, and I couldn't help but let my hopes get high. I waited for a sign, something that would let me know I could close the gap between our lips —oh, how I craved to feel her lips—, but the sign didn't come and we stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before she casted down her eyes, immediately breaking the spell.

"Goodnight, Y/n." I whispered, turning my back to her.

"Goodnight, George." She mumbled back, coming closer to cuddle me.

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penwieldingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Dante's Prayer - Chapter 3

The 2nd part of the Ball, hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you think about this. A big thanks to my beta @fortheloveoffanfic for keeping me on track with the characters 😉

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2094

"Mrs. Gray, why don't we retreat to the parlour for a drink and leave the men to talk their business." Helene suggested linking her satin gloved arm with Polly's and led her away from Thomas and her husband, nodding at the two men in parting.

"Lady McCann, please call me Polly, after all, we'll be family soon once the wedding is done." the Shelby matriarch told her nephews soon-to-be mother in law with a smile, the two women nearly gliding over to the smaller parlour of Castletown House.

Returning the smile, the duchess nodded her head. "By all means, then I'm Helene. We will be family soon, given that my daughter won't bail on us." A soft sigh left her lips, knowing Saoirse could be difficult. "Your nephew will have his work cut out for him, I reckon."

"Oh he'll learn how to deal with it. I have a good feeling that once they'll get to know each other they'll find common ground." The words were reassuring, yet both women knew that it would take a while for their children - in Polly's case she felt like her brother's children were just like her own - to warm up to the idea of sharing a life together.

Arriving at the doors separating the sitting room from the grand ballroom, Helene nodded at the butler, who let them enter. They sat down at the round table, plush armchairs providing comfort as the Birmingham resident looked around the room. Polly thought back to the time when she had to work hard to provide for her family and be there for Ada and Finn during the war, and all she could feel was gratefulness toward Tommy who was able to give them the life they led now.

"Has Thomas told you what he wants his wedding to be like?" the mother of three inquired, nodding at the butler in thanks for bringing them both refreshments and leaned back into the high-backed armchair. "I gather now that it is his second wedding he might want to change a few things."

Taking a sip from the champagne, the gypsy lightly shook her head. "So far, he hasn't said anything. He only does this out of duty to the family. I told him it was a good deal, but other than that he's not going to object to anything. All I can ask of you is considering a custom my family on my mother's side has partook in every time during a wedding." Polly wasn't too sure, the duchess would agree to traditions of the travelling folks but the soft smile on her face and the light nod gave her hope.

"I haven't always been a duchess, Polly." the blonde lady started, holding the Flute glas in her hand and watching the champagne sparkle in the soft glow of the lamps. "My mother originated from Germany, her cousin married the emperor of Austria and she was made Empress of Austria and Hungary. I often visited her when I was still a child and Sisi would visit the travelling folks of Hungary. Not all is as it seems, my daughter has the same spirit in her as Elizabeth did. Headstrong, modern, loyal to a fault, kind and with a childish wonder the war has snuffed out in many people. I do hope that Thomas won't try to do what the war hasn't been able to do. Despite me agreeing to this arrangement without her consent, she is still my little angel and I will grant you your customs just like we have ours, but should your nephew hurt her in any way, he will wish for war to take him again."

Nodding her head, Polly grinned at Helene, knowing they would get along splendidly. Protective of her family, just like herself, the Shelby matriarch knew that there was a good future ahead, bright was still to be questioned, but good at least.

Just then the decorated glass doors of the light coloured parlour flew open, a disheveled looking Arthur standing there, eyes ablaze and his face red from anger.

"Did ya know, Pol?" he asked storming over to his aunt, hands already grabbing for her arms. "Did ya know 'bout 'er, hm?"

Polly had never been someone to be frightened or threatened, especially not by her family, so she wouldn't start now and still Arthur always had a soft spot in her heart. Delivering a hard slap, she pushed the eldest of the brothers away from her, regret shining in her eyes. "What the fuck are ya talkin' about, Arthur?"

"I'm fuckin' talking about Niamh." he glared, his cheeks already turning a darker shade of red from anger and the hit he received. "She's been here all them years, pregnant with ma son, so 'm askin' again: did ya know 'bout it?"

Wide eyed, Polly felt the wheels in her head turning, remembering the girl Arthur had left behind to marry Linda, the redheaded beauty in the back of the church. "She was at the wedding, didn't say a thing, just left when it was over. That's all I know."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur stumbled back into the armchair on the other side of his aunt, closing his eyes to order the thoughts in his head flitting about like butterflies. "What am I gonna do now?" Polly moved over to him, pulling Arthur into a tight hug because she knew it was hard on him.

Even though she wasn't a fan of Linda, her nephew loved her and she had to live with that. Now he needed to make a decision on what to do with the mother of his first child. "You need to talk to her, that much is clear. And get to know him, too."

Nodding his head against his aunt's belly, Arthur felt a small portion of the weight lifting of his shoulders. Linda would be furious, she already was with him leaving for Ireland to be part of the wedding preparations. Nothing had been decided yet, but the eldest Shelby had a distinct feeling, that Lady McCann would want the ceremony to take place in their home and he already dreaded the day the whole family would again sit on Tommy's side of the church and Linda coming face to face with his former lover and mother of his first son.

"I thought you'd have ta greet guests." he said, a cigarette perched between his lips as he watched his wife-to-be gazing at the sky.

"And I thought you would talk about business with my father." she replied, a smirk grazing her features and might he say it looked more like a small smile than a smirk.

Her body leaned against the banister and Tommy couldn't help but let his eyes roam over it, breathing in the smoke of the cigarette he had missed all evening. "There's not much business to talk about when there's a wedding about to take place."

Nodding her head, Saoirse turned her face towards his own as he leaned against the stone parapet next to her. "I hope Arthur has calmed down again after his encounter with Niamh when I left." she said after a moment of silence.

"Ach, he's fine. Needs to talk to her, though." Tommy shrugged, his stormy blues void of emotion as he stubbed out the cigarette on the banister. "His wife's goin' to have his hide, but he'll get over it."

Shaking her head, Saoirse looked away from the gang leader, feeling like the little progress they had made went up in smoke just like the cigarette. "You shouldn't be so indifferent to the feelings of others, one day you might not have anyone left to turn to."

"Often enough you only have yourself to rely on." he replied before he stood again, running a hand through his short hair and holding the other out to her. "We shouldn't make your guests believe that we hate each other, it's bad for business."

Snorting, the youngest of three took his hand, feeling the warmth of Tommy's skin through the satin of her glove as he led her inside to the ballroom. "Who said anything about me liking you? I don't really care what my guests think, mother's guests on the other hand, that would be a shame. After all, they came all the way from Austria and London."

"I see, you're not going to make it easy for me, are you?" he wondered, twirling her around so they could dance to the waltz the orchestra started to play. "What is this marriage going to look like, hm?"

Putting her left hand on his shoulder, Saoirse mentally thanked her mother for making her take the dance lessons in Vienna or else the future bride of Birmingham's most known gangster would have been an embarrassment. Her right hand delicately laid in his left and she couldn't help but wonder if they could do more than just hold a gun and kill. "I believe you'd like me to play the obedient wife, staying at your house and doing nothing, what with your fortune now. I heard you have a son, so probably be a mother to him, while you go out and do whatever you do."

"So, ya do know something 'bout me." he smirked, leading her across the grand room, unaware of the other dancers and their families. The pair danced in their own world and voiced their opinion on the upcoming union. "And here I thought ya didn't know anything."

"My sisters talk, Mister Shelby, although I didn't know which one my husband-to-be was, I still heard their opinions on you loud and clear."

The smirk on his lips widened at the thought of what Amalie and Louise had told their sister. "An' what pray tell did they tell ya?"

"Oh, you know, that you're a gangster, cold as ice, a former war hero and would do anything to get money." Saoirse shrugged, trying to rile him up as she saw his blue eyes darken. Tommy knew that he had to keep it cool. It wouldn't do him good to drag her off and…no, he wouldn't yell at her and make a scene, that would break the deal he made with her mother. He'd rather enjoy the rest of his life while it lasted.

Pulling her tighter into his body, he felt a satisfied grin make its way onto his face at her gasp. "You'd do well to keep those comments to a minimum. That money you so kindly brought up will grant you safety among Birmingham and the rest of England and Scotland. I don't want another of me wife killed because she wouldn't listen and had a mind of her own."

"Well then, you'd better look for another wife because I can be just as stubborn as you, Mister Shelby."

"I'd rather not. You're more than enough." Wincing at the thought of having to go through that process again, Tommy shook his head. The music had changed and another waltz was played. "Besides, finding a good woman that freely accepts my son is quite rare in these times."

Pursing her lips, Saoirse looked up into his stormy blue eyes. "I couldn't imagine someone not liking your son. Judging by what Louise told me about him, I take it he's a ray of sunshine."

"Are you really trying to make me hate you right now? But yes, Charlie is in fact a ray of sunshine despite having me as his father." Before the youngest daughter of the Duke could say anything, Tommy had twirled her outward, keeping his eyes on her face as he read the delight written all over it.

He couldn't help but enjoy these moments, couldn't remember the last time he danced like this with anyone that hadn't been Grace. When Saoirse had returned to his arms, she sent him a grin, a genuine one at that. "I'm not trying to make you hate me, I was stating a fact and to be honest I can't wait to meet your son."

Nodding his head at her answer, he led her around the ballroom for one final dance. "In two weeks you will meet him, so I do hope you won't change your mind about this arrangement."

"Don't do anything to make me change it and I'll be there." she answered him, her right hand squeezing his left tighter than before and Tommy couldn't help but grin at her attempt to threaten him. Life would be a lot more interesting once the wedding was over.

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@fortheloveoffanfic @fics-not-tragedies

#tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #arthur shelby x oc #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby #shelby family #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders

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thescentifollow · 3 years

Text

New Year’s Eve | Fred Weasley

After a blissful dinner on New Year’s Eve with your loved ones, your boyfriend, Fred has a question to ask you.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: This is not how I planned it to be but I like it. Instead of making it too fluffy and cheesy I tried to capture the feeling of home, coziness and the comfort you feel when you’re with the poeple you love. I hope you like it! Feedbacks are always appreciated. ^-^

New Year’s Eve 2000

Seeing the laughs filling the living room in your new apartment on New Year’s Eve, you could feel the coziness of home. Everyone you loved was around you, except the ones you lost, the ones who sacrificed their lives for a better world. You teared up a bit thinking about Remus, Tonks, Sirius… and many more. You feel sadness and gratitude at the same time whenever you are reminded of them. You really wished they were here today.

With the voice of the small, adorable, newborn baby in her grandmother’s arms, you snapped out of the thoughts and wiped the tears. You made your way to play with her with a funny expression on your face to make her laugh.

“Look Victoire, Auntie Y/N is here.” Molly said with a baby voice.

You took one of the little baby’s hands and made funny faces. At first her face remained expressionless, but a few seconds later she started laughing like crazy, which made you feel proud. It was hard to make her smile and you made her laugh.

“Y/N, dear, this place looks amazing, I have to say.” Molly said and gave you an approving smile.

“Thank you, Molly; we are very pleased with it too.” You answered and smiled at her. Then you offered her to take a break and have a drink like everyone else. She gladly accepted it after planting a kiss on her granddaughter’s hand. You played with Victoire and took her to the other rooms to show her around. You explained the rooms to her in a baby voice to keep her entertained and sometimes she would nod and look you in the eye like she understands everything you say. When you were back downstairs you took a look around and felt blessed to have such people around you.

Molly, Ginny, and Hermione were talking about Hermione’s new job at the Ministry of Magic. Arthur, Ron and Harry were in another corner talking about the reformations that were done at the Ministry past year. Bill and Fleur were resting against the wall and chatting, looking relaxed since Victoire was in safe hands. Sadly, Charlie and Percy were not able to come this year. Charlie was busy, stuck in Romania and Percy was invited to another event.

Fred saw you standing next to the stairs and sent you a mocking look and mouthed: “Auntie.” And lifted his eyebrows cheekily. You rolled your eyes as you tried to contain your smile. Then Arthur approached Fred with curious eyes and started asking questions about the Christmas lights above the fireplace.

You remembered seeing those lights for the first time. It was when you were living in the Muggle World for a few months after the war and you remembered both you and your boyfriend liking it quite a lot. This year you went back to that store and bought a few pairs of them, thinking Arthur would love them. You wanted everything to be perfect for it was your first Christmas since coming back to the Wizarding World and it was also the very first Christmas in your new apartment.

When the doorbell rang Arthur was talking to Fred about how adorable and interesting the tiny light bulbs were. Fred looked at you, lifted one eyebrow with a smile on his face and pointed at the door. You got the message right away and went to answer the door.

“Come on Victoire, we have one last guest.” You kept talking to the little baby.

“Finally! We were starting to worry that you got stuck under a pile of snow.” You said acting like you were mad while welcoming George; but he did not fall for it.

He grinned cheekily and gave you flowers as a sorry for being late. You sighed but accepted the flowers gladly.

“Hello little baby.” His eyes went to her right away and Victoire said something incomprehensible. He guessed it was her way of welcoming him then turned to greet you. You hugged him as he started teasing you the moment that he entered the house.

“Hello to you to sister-in law.” You glared at him, trying to contain your smile at his cheesy nickname. Well, it was cheesy but after being friends with the twins for more than 10 years and dating Fred for 5 years, you got used to it.

“For the hundredth time, I’m not you sister-in law.”

“No, not yet. Though I doubt that it’s gonna take long.” He winked at you and made his way to the living room. You just shook your head and followed him. He became the center of attention the moment he entered the living room, and this made Victoire cry at the top of her lungs. Fleur rushed to take her and calm her down.

You made your way to the kitchen to bring out the dishes you prepared. You could hear Molly scolding George because of his lateness.

“George Weasley, how dare you make all these people wait for you on New Year’s Eve? It does not matter we are your family; you are not allowed to behave this way…”

You giggled while you slowly made your way to the living room.

“Since everyone is finally here, we can start.” You emphasized the word finally and sent him a look. It made everyone giggle and the scolding turned into a sweet laugh.

“Do you need help with anything, dear?” Molly asked approaching you, as you put the dishes on the dinner table.

“No, thank you Molly. Everything is ready. Please sit down and start.” She nodded with a smile on her face and rubbed your shoulder.

“Freddie, can you bring the wine my parents sent us?” You asked Fred and he gave you an okay sign.

The dinner was a blast. Everyone enjoyed it and complimented you and your boyfriend’s cooking. Freddie’s amazing cooking skills was a surprise for them since he never cooked for them. But you knew that he took cooking classes in the Muggle world and you were quite proud of him. After dinner you played games such as Who am I and Charades. As the night deepened Victoire fell asleep and Fleur put her to the bed in the guest room. Everyone went back to their initial corners to chat a little. You were sitting by the fireplace with Molly and chatting when Fred approached you from the back and whispered to your ear.

“Darling, can you come upstairs for a second?” You sent him a curious look and he mouthed the words “Present time.” With a smirk on his face. You turned to him and whispered.

“Now?”

“Now.” He answered with an intense look in his eyes. You just shook your head and excused yourself to follow Fred upstairs. You saw George sending him a thumbs up as you walked upstairs.

He held your hand and rubbed your skin with his thumb as he led you upstairs. You could feel his breaths were unstable and you wondered why but you didn’t ask, thinking that it was probably because he was excited for the present exchange between the two of you. When you reached the upstairs, you let go of his hand to enter the guest room. He knit his eyebrows confusingly.

“Wait here.” You whispered trying not to wake the sleeping baby up. He nodded not being sure what you were doing as you entered the room. Opening the wardrobe next to the rocking chair, you built in the Muggle World, you reached for the box you hid underneath the boxes that needed to be unpacked.

Fred knocked on the door impatiently. You told him you were coming in a second very quietly, but you were sure he heard you because you heard his footsteps and the sound of your bedroom’s door opening. You looked at Victoire one more time and planted a kiss on the top of her head before leaving the guest room.

When you entered the room, he was facing away and looking outside of the window. You approached him and hugged him, and he brought you to his side and put his arm over your shoulder before planting a kiss on your temple.

Looking outside, you noticed that it started to snow again.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked rhetorically. He hummed and nodded. His eyes caught the box you were holding.

“Well, what’s it you are holding?” He knew the answer but asks anyway.

“Obviously, it’s your present, Weasley.” You answered. He loved it when you called him by his surname because it reminded him of the school days you had spent together. His eyes lit up and he reached for the box in your hands. You took a step back and lifted one of your eyebrows.

“Where is mine?” His eyes darted and he wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers before answering you.

“I have it, I promise. But can I please have mine first?” He asked with puppy eyes and a pout on his lips. He tried to speak calmly but you could sense the nervousness in his voice. So, you gave in and passed the box to him. He took the box, put it on the bed and embraced you lovingly. His one hand was on your back and the other one was stroking your hair. At that moment, all you could hear was your calm breaths and your hearts beating harmoniously. You kissed his cheek before you pulled away and wished him a merry Christmas.

You held your breath as he opened the box. He said nothing at first, but you could neither say anything nor move because of how nervous you were. So, you waited for him to say anything. The box was full of your pictures together, pictures you had taken as friends, as lovers, on your first date, on your second, on your twentieth. The photos of you on the first night you had spent together. Pictures of you resting on the porch of the Burrow under the sun, almost dozing off. There were also his pictures playing Quidditch you had taken, and your pictures he had taken without you knowing, while studying or reading. There were notes you had exchanged secretly during class and detention. And there was also a familiar diary at the bottom of the box. He took it in his hands and after a few seconds he lifted his face to look at you. Now you could see his face. His eyes were full of tears that were about to be released. You could finally move again; you sit next to him slowly and quietly and took one of his hands in yours. It was the diary you had kept during your school years, the diary you had written all your feelings for Fred in. He didn’t know it but there were also letters you had written to him as you had waited for him to wake up after that heartrending incident.

He laughed lightly as he remembered that one time, he had tried to grab it from you. You had gotten so angry at him that you hadn’t spoken to him for 3 days. He looked at you like he was asking for permission, and you nodded at him.

As he opened the diary and touched the old pages that began to wither, you started to tear up too. He knew how hard it was for you to gather the courage to go to your home after you had obliviated them prior to the war. You knew it was a low chance that they had still been there, but you had been hopeful anyway. When you saw that they were gone, it wrecked you. The fact that your stuff was the exact way you left them hurt more. It was your existence on the World meant nothing. The tears started to fall as you remembered all those hurtful memories. The possibility of losing both your family and Fred after he got hurt during the war, was agonizing. The situation with your family was irremediable. As for Fred, you were grateful to him, for he had clung to his life.

After the war and Fred’s treatment, you had decided to live in the Muggle World for a while because what you had gone through was too much for both of you. Being away from the Wizarding World had made it a lot easier to heal. After Victoire’s birth, you decided to go back to your actual lives, that you had put on hold for a while, because you had wanted to be with your loved ones and feel like you belong in that world again. The birth of Victoire represented the start of a new era for you and you loved the baby dearly.

He closed the diary as soon as he heard your little sobs and take you in his arms. Your sobs got as he rubbed your back. You stayed in that positions for some time. He whispered words of comfort into your ear, but you knew he was crying too.

When you finally started to calm down you pulled away from him and saw his wet face. You both cried after recalling all those memories.

After a few seconds, a smile made its way to your face as Fred rubbed his nose to yours like the way Eskimos kiss. He mirrored the smile and looked into your eyes deeply. You felt like he could read your soul. You would not be surprised if he could. He reached for his pocket and a small, square shaped, navy blue colored, velvet box appeared in his big hands. Your eyes went to the box he held in his hands from his face, and to his face from the small box in his hands. You opened your mouth to speak but words did not come out.

“Marry me.” He said without a without any hesitation in his voice. His eyes were glued to yours as he waited for your answer. You looked at him, your lips parted but not being able to speak.

All you could do was to nod. He closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you passionately. It was more like a fight to decide who was yearning more for the other than kissing. It is not like you had not been intimate with each other before, but something about this was just different. He pulled away from you after planting a loving, lighter kiss on your lips and opened the small box.

“It was my grandmother’s. My grandmother and my grandfather had loved each other dearly and they had lived a very happy life.” He told the story of the modest but mesmerizing ring as he put it on your ring.

“It’s beautiful.” You said, tears coming back. You placed a small kiss on his lips before hugging him so tightly that after a few minutes he asked you to let him go because he couldn’t breathe.

Someone knocked on the door as you were putting all the photos into the box and you were surprised that it was George. It was probably the first time you witnessed him knocking on a door. He had a knowing expression and a smirk on his face, so you just extended your hand for him to see the ring. The first words he said after seeing the ring made both Fred and you laugh.

“MUM! MUM!!! MUM!!!!!!!!”

He left the room in a hurry and went downstairs running. Fred got up and looked at you before pointing out the door with his head, smiling softly. He extended his hand for you to hold before leading you downstairs to give the big news to everyone, if your brother-in-law to be hadn’t told everyone yet, of course.

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