Chapter two of my Wagatha turned Agathario AU is up!

Here’s part of it:

Alice looked slightly shocked that Agatha was talking to her this much. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Her name’s Wanda.” A pause. “She’s nice.” She added.

Great. Now she thinks I’m gay. I am, but that’s not the point.

Agatha nodded as Alice looked down at her phone and the two rode the rest of the way in silence. Wanda. She liked that name. She still couldn't get the image of her out of her mind from yesterday, the way she flipped her hair so perfectly, the eye contact she made with her, and that smile.

Her hand twitched as the elevator dinged.

Link

So I wrote a Clementine/Hanaryo fic, because why not? Hope you like it!

Formality

***Be forewarned that this contains major spoilers for series 4. If you don't want to find out what happens to certain characters, stop reading here***

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So I know Edith's child hasn't been given a name yet. I wanted to name her after someone she cared about deeply, so it had meaning- and the first thing I came up with was Edith's relationship with her grandmother, the Dowager Countess. Enjoy!

                                                                                                      July, 1938

After half-listening to the adults at his table discuss politics for a while, George suddenly put down his fork at dinner. He knew he should probably care but that was beside the point. He couldn't believe he almost forgot to tell her.

"Mama," he said. She looked at him in interest. He could see his younger cousin grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. Sybbie, to her left, called out in her American accent, "It wasn't that funny." which made Vi laugh out loud and Uncle Tom give her a scolding look. George stuck out his tongue at her playfully and continued.

"The most hilarious thing happened down at the village today. Me and Vi were out walking and-" 

"You and who?" Mary interrupted. George exhaled loudly. "Me and Cousin Violet..."  He saw his mother nod slightly in approval, while Sybbie and Vi snickered quietly from the other end of the table. How he hated rules.

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"Oh, nobody calls me Violet anymore," Vi whined as the three cousins went for a walk outside after dinner. George smiled and looked at the ground. "It's only at Downton that I get called that. Everyone's always so proper." George groaned and threw his head back. "Tell me about it. Imagine living here!" They all laughed.

"They don't call me Sybil," added Sybbie. "That's different," Vi replied. The three of them walked in silence for a while. 

Vi interrupted their thoughts with a chuckle."Although sometimes when she's really cross at me, Mama'll use it. She says VIOLET JEAN GREGSON-" "Shhh!" Sybbie hissed, cutting her off and shoving her shoulder. "You're so loud people at the house can probably here you, even downstairs!" 

George just shook his head while his two female cousins pushed each other and shrieked with laughter. "Oh, rules and propriety. The mark of our parents' generation." 

Neal saving Emma in Neverland (as requested by an anon)

"Mom? Dad?" Emma called, her eyes scanning all areas the confines of her vision would allow. As far as the blond could see, it pitch black. More dark than anything she had experienced before. Emma tried putting her hand out in front of her eyes and she couldn’t see it at all. She tried closing her eyes, and there was no difference between the blackness inside of her eyelids and the blackness that inclosed her and everything else in sight. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Emma’s heart pounded as she tested the ground she was standing on by shuffling her feet. What sounded like leaves crushed under her boots. Maybe she was in a forest? But that wouldn’t explain the complete absence of any light. Nothing made any sense around here. And where IS everyone? The blonde thought, whipping her head around wildly. The last thing she could remember was sailing off into the vortex that would supposedly lead to Neverland. Emma swallowed, trying to concentrate. Maybe they had crashed somehow?

"Mom? Dad? Regina? Gold? ANYONE?" Emma’s voice got louder with each name she called, and she could feel herself growing anxious. This was so not good. Her voice pierced through the void of nothingness like a knife searing through paper. Silence had never felt this loud. Emma shuffled forward and reached her hands out to see if she could touch anything, but to no avail. Meanwhile, her eyes continued to search the darkness, looking for anything to get her out of this- whatever this was. Emma suddenly stopped moving. There seemed to be an area in the dark that was… lighter than the rest of the surroundings. A small orb not especially bright, but more like a lighter shade of black. The blonde furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. She was sure that it wasn’t there before.

"Hello?" She called again carefully, fumbling for her gun at her waist. "Is anyone there?" Silence. So quiet she could feel the blood coursing through her veins, and every breath intake felt like a hurricane. Slowly, Emma tried walking again, taking deliberate control in every step as to not make any more sound. Emma tried again, determined to find the source of the light spot. "Hello…?"

Suddenly, Emma heard a loud crack nearby to her left and froze. Her breath ragged and quick, she reached for her gun and held it out in front of her. She had no idea where she was. Anything could have made that noise. “I’m armed,” Emma declared sternly, failing to mention the fact that her hands were shaking.

"Emma?" A voice called out in front of her, breaking the tortured silence. But…. That wasn’t just any voice. Emma would know that sound anywhere. Neal. But he was dead. Whoever he was, he was moving closer. That would be impossible. She didn’t care.

Taking a chance, Emma whispered back to the voice. “Neal?” All at once, she felt his presence all around her, wrapping her up in his sweet scent as she could feel him reaching out to her. “Emma. Oh Emma it’s really you, Emma…” His voice was raw and strained, overcome with emotion. He reached for her desperately with both arms and she reached back, the both of them searching desperately for each others embrace. They were so close, but this damn darkness… Emma grabbed the empty air with such greed it surprised her, fumbling around in the dark. She finally caught on to something. Neals jacket. Tears streaming down her face, she felt his chest and searched for his lips, as his hands ran down her back and over her arms and shoulders endlessly. “Emma, my Emma,” he murmured, pulling her to him. They still couldn’t see each other, but his touch, his voice, his everything, was more enough.

"How are you here? I thought…" She said softly, her fingers trailing the skin around his lips as he stroked her hair. Not that she cared. He was here now, and that was all that mattered to her. "That I died?" Neal chuckled in a way that made Emma’s insides feel tingly. "Sorry to disappoint." Emma thought for a moment. "Wait. You were shot, Neal! Oh my god we have to get you help-" she began to search his body frantically for any signs of the wound. Neal held both his arms up in a joking manner as Emma continued to pat him down. "Search me all you want, you won’t find the bullet wound." Emma wrinkled her nose in confusion. "What? How? Where did it go?" Neal’s arms came down again, searching for Emma’s head. Once he found it, he kissed her forehead. "Long story. I’ll tell you once we get out of here. Emma, I knew you’d find me…" His voice trailed off as Emma found his mouth and kissed him tenderly. "You can get us out of here?" she murmured, her lips so close to his that they touched while she spoke. He shuddered and let out a low moan that increased Emma’s heartbeat significantly. She could feel him nod his head. Wherever Neal was, that was where she’d be.

After some more fumbling and touching, Neal’s hands found her own. Grasping them tightly, he pressed his forehead to Emma’s. “Come with me.”

With a heart full of hope, she followed him into the darkness, to that orb just a little lighter shade of black.