#I will be on my death bed and in my dying old lady voice I will croak out ‘my bad Kamal’ before leaving this mortal plane

[poke-is-a-dork]

Bad ending

[januaryembrs]

SKIN LIKE PUFF PASTRY | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [6]

description: the ONE where you help him grieve another woman + the ONE with the promise

length: 8.04k

warnings: maeves death. grief. Spencer is a sad bby. HOWEVER maybe perhaps some fluff? healing journey! gun, blood, usual cm warnings.

author's note. HERE YOU GO POOKIES. I hope you enjoy now I've put you all out of your misery.

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'Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry,

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?'

The one where you help him grieve another woman.

It killed her walking up those stairs every day. She knew the gift baskets were piling up, had already had a terse conversation with his neighbour about leaving ‘clutter’ in the hallway, to which she thinks she might have swung at the eighty year old woman if she didn’t think it would cause Spencer problems. 

He had enough on his plate already. Maeve had died, for fuck sake. 

In fact, she almost entirely blew her top when she made it to the top of the steps to see every single one of Garcia’s gift baskets had been moved, the bunches of tulips she’d brought him every other day over the past two weeks gone with little trace other than browning petals scattering his door mat. Even the cookies JJ had baked him, the card Henry had drawn for his uncle Spencer had been moved. 

Bugsy stopped for a second, her head snapping to the door to the right where his neighbour, Miss Cavanaugh, had shuffled out of her apartment in her pink dressing gown, her grey, wispy curls flat against her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed. 

She blinked at the younger girl through thick, bubble-like glasses, her blue eyes annoyed the minute she saw her standing there. 

“You can’t just take people's things, you know, I don’t care if it got in the way of your daily walk, Miriam, those were for Spencer-” Bugsy started, her voice as calm as she could get it even though her scowl spoke for itself. 

“I didn’t touch any of his crap, little lady,” Miriam raised her mottled hand, crooked fingers shushing the outrage Bug had been ready to bark at her, and the women sighed when they realised they might just have another argument like their last one, “Kid was poking around at like six in the morning taking it all in, nearly woke up my dog,”

Bugsy rolled her eyes, “God forbid,” Miriam flipped her the finger which made Bugsy’s jaw drop wide open, shuffling back into her apartment muttering to herself, her mail in her mangled hands, “Old bag,” Bug murmured to herself, but her eyes quickly locked back onto Spencer’s door.

He had been out. Well, he had been into his hallway, but it was something. 

Her legs felt like jelly when she took hesitant steps towards his doorway, her knuckles gently rapping on the wood, a frog crawling into her throat that she tried clearing with a cough. 

“Spencer?” Her voice was soft, melodic, and it made him wince where he sat against the other side of his entrance, his own hair a state of disarray, “It’s me,” 

Of course he knew it was her. He didn’t think a day could ever go by where he wouldn’t know her by the sound of her steps alone. Like he’d grown a sixth sense for these sorts of things, like they were linked by some weird Spidey powers like in the comics she’d brought over to his apartment and begged him to read, because even though he could devour a million words a minute (her words not his) it was the art in it she loved and that forced him to slow down and enjoy the pages. 

He wanted to tell her to go away, but he couldn’t find it in him to ever be so cruel, to dig himself a bigger trench of regret than he already felt. He couldn’t save Maeve, physically could never get the image of her dying from his ginormous, genius brain that held onto every detail, and on top of it, he knew he deserved none of the kindness Bugsy showered him with. He’d heard her come stand outside his door every single morning, heard her knocking with the same worried call of his name at the same time before breakfast. He heard her sigh after ten or so minutes and leave, her retreating footsteps clunking down the stairs sadly. 

She was too good for him. He’d only solidified it that she was so beyond what he deserved, that he could never treat her the way she deserved to be treated, the same way he hadn’t with Maeve. 

Spencer’s self loathing was a poison, slowly devouring him every time he heard her voice, felt her approach through the floorboards, when he’d seen the little notes she’d left on the books she’d dropped off outside his door. Usually they were her reviews on them, a list of pros and cons, her general musings, all things they would have chatted over a bagel if things had been normal between them. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together the way they had like clockwork since she joined the BAU. That was a lie. He could remember, of course he could, it had been four months, three weeks and five days ago, a Monday. He thinks she knocked around 10am. Something like that. 

It was the day before she’d flown to London, actually. She had dropped the boys (the boys being Niko and Sergio) off to his apartment, thanked him a bunch of times for looking after them, given him five months worth of cat litter and kibbles and immediately unwrapped a to-go bag of their favourite pastries from the bakery downtown. He remembered it was close to October because she’d bought over maple buns and they only sold at the beginning of Autumn, and he’d asked if she’d be doing anything for Halloween seeing as their usual plans of a horror movie marathon were being put on pause while she was in England. She wasn’t, and she’d asked to call him instead so they could discuss their favourite trick or treating outfits they’d seen. 

He’d promised her a call, only another case popped up by the time the thirty-first rolled around, and it had never happened. 

Spencer hated how he was able to remember every detail of her face the day she’d left, the warmth of her hug he’d clung onto for months. He hated that day she’d surprised him and he hadn’t even thought to wrap his arms around her because he’d been so stuck feeling the overwhelming shock of seeing her. He hated that he’d made her frown like that, that she had ever doubted that he wanted to see her. But it had felt like he’d been caught cheating, why had it felt like cheating? 

He knew why. He knew why seeing her when he was going out to call Maeve had felt like he was double-crossing her. 

Not that it mattered anymore, he thought bitterly. Because Maeve was dead. And Bugsy had every right to hate him. But she didn’t. Because she was too good. 

He hated himself more than he’d ever thought was possible. 

He heard her sigh, but she didn’t repeat herself. Nor did she leave. Instead, he felt the door rattle behind his own spine as she slumped against the wood, sliding to the floor until she unknowingly leaned against him, little more than a few centimetres from his warmth. 

He heard her pull out something from her bag, and the tell tale slip of paper over paper told him she’d brought a book with her, pre-empting staying longer this time. Spencer wanted to tell her not to bother, because if he got brave enough to open the door to her and see her face, smell her clothes, feel the softness of her hugs, he thinks if he told her every thought bouncing around that aching skull of his, it would all come crashing down around him, and he wouldn’t ever be able to stop telling her how sorry he was. For all of it. For letting her pull away from him when she was grieving. For letting her kiss him that night Derek brought her over, because it was obvious she wanted to forget the whole thing. For pushing her away when she came back from London. For being rude and cold when she wanted answers. For trying desperately to completely detach himself from her, which had only ever made him want to scream in frustration because it hadn’t worked anyway. 

Maeve had died because of him, an innocent woman he’d seen himself falling for if they’d been given the chance had died, and he was still head over heels in terrible, stupid love with Bugsy. 

 They stayed there, her reading and him aching from the inside out, for about seven minutes before her phone rang. He heard her huff, letting it go to answer phone and settling back down with her novel. That is, until her dial tone sprung back to life and she half growled under her breath, assuming she pressed the answer button, and he heard her voice again. 

“Hello?” She said, the slight annoyance bleeding into her words, and Spencer already knew that duty was calling by the way her book thumped to the floor and he could just picture her rubbing over her temple in frustration. “I have an appointment, Hotch, I can be there in a couple hours,” Silence, where he guessed Hotch was chiding her on her tardiness, “No, I know I’m supposed to book these things off- it’s just- it’s a contraceptive implant removal, yeah I really busted my IUD when I broke my arm, it’s not settled since,” Spencer almost smiled on instinct, almost, though he thought even if he did it would look like a bitter grimace because he’d not moved his face in over ten days. But she was a really good liar, and he’d always found that part of her charm. She huffed again, “God, you sound like Emily, yes I’m being safe- we are not having this conversation, Aaron, I’ll get there when I get there,” 

With that, perhaps the only person who would ever be allowed to slam the phone down on Aaron Hotchner in a huff did, and they were left alone in silence again. 

“You shouldn’t ignore their calls for my sake,” He found his voice, even if it was groggy with misuse. He felt her straighten against the wooden door, her shock palpable through the brief moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for just a second too long, as if she was scrambling not to say something else than what came out. 

“Pot, meet kettle,” She murmured back, loud enough he could hear it, and she felt him shuffle behind the door, wanting to smack herself in the face for not feeling him there sooner.

“New case?” He asked, his eyes heavy, his pyjamas days old. He knew he needed to shower, but the minute he’d walked into his apartment everything had felt pointless. 

“Yup.” She breathed in, her shoes brushing against his welcome mat with a scratch as she pulled her knees up to her chest, “Although I think Hotch will stick to Penelope making the calls after today,” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh came from his throat, something she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“What is it?” He replied, and she remained quiet for a second, picking the skin around her nails. 

“I’ll tell you if you open the door,” She bartered, wondering for a second if she’d gone too far and had pushed him back into the hole she was coaxing him out of. 

“Blackmail,” Spencer said, all emotion gone from his voice, and Bugsy winced, “A little on the nose for someone who’s grieving,” 

But she could sense it. The way his syllable raised on the last word, that he was being cynical, not cruel like she’d worried. 

“Think of it as a trade deal,” She humoured him, though she kept her voice soft so he knew she meant no harm, just to cheer him up if it was even possible, “You get your answer, and I get to give you this incredibly boring book that I know you can devour in a half hour and give me the summarised version,” 

He smiled. Weakly, and only for a brief few seconds, because if there was anything that warmed him up from the cold, dark, nothingness place he’d found himself in it was her.

He wished he could dislike the fact she did it so easily, wish he could dislike how simple it was to like her, to feel himself wanting her even in that nothingness place he was crawling through as a lone ranger. He wanted to pull her into him tightly, wanted to let her fuss over him, to apologise until his voice ran even more hoarse, but he couldn’t. He feared if he touched her, she’d be marked for death right then and then; that he’d taint her somehow. And that he could never do. 

Yet, he bent to her will. He stood up, prompting her to do the same, leaving his door on the latch as he pulled it open a crack, enough for her to jimmy the book through, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy. 

He had read Tolstoy before, of course he had. War and Peace was one of the first books he ever owned in Russian, ironically enough one that he’d read only a few days before they’d driven to Baltimore and he’d met Bugsy for the first time. Yet it was this one she’d given him of all of Tolstoy’s works; the one where the protagonist goes on a journey of acceptance that he’s dying with no explanation as to why. 

He thought she might just be the only person who knew how to crawl into the mess of his brain and find something familiar in there. Because this was the same book he’d read when Emily had died. 

He would never tell her he already owned it, however. Nor would he call her out for the fact she most certainly didn’t find it boring considering she was so far into it with annotations already scribbled in the margins. He just took it with a lump in his throat, his eyes burning with the idea she was so incredibly her that it felt like he had no option but to drown in it. 

“Body’s been found in San Francisco,” She said gently, and he knew she wished he would open the door fully so she could at least see him. Yet he kept the door on the latch. Because if there wasn’t a barrier between them, he wasn’t sure how else he would keep it all in, “You get to know more when you finish the book,” 

He sighed, holding the book tight to his chest, and they stood there for a second, the air turning stifling as they both held back a million words behind brave faces, “Will you be gone long?” 

“No, only a few days, I hope,” She replied, zipping her bag up and slinging it on her back judging by the sounds coming from her side of the door. She hovered, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but wanting to stay here on his welcome mat because this was the closest they'd been physically and otherwise in months. 

“Be safe,” He murmured, and her hand shot through the gap in the doorway, her pinky finger raised to the heavens. 

“Promise,” Bugsy said, her heart jack hammering against her ribcage when a long, warm finger wrapped around hers, and they squeezed them together. It was just a little touch, but it was a start. She wished he would open the door so she could beg him to talk to her, even if it meant crawling to her knees, she wasn’t above it whatsoever. 

Reluctantly, she let him go, though she noted the way he had held onto her until she did so. 

“I have to go,” She said sadly, drawing her hand to her chest like she’d received a Midas touch, and her hand was suddenly valuable after gracing his own. 

Her skin felt electric, her breaths felt laboured. She wanted more, but she couldn’t have it. 

And with that, it took every ounce of resolve to turn on her heels and head back down to her car. 

–

Bugsy stared at the artwork with a grimace, picking hard at her cuticles because the metallic smell was making her stomach turn. Their UnSub had taken to painting with his victims’ blood, canvasses upon canvasses of leeched ichor brushed out to make out an image of the bodies. 

Her nose scrunched when another wave of hot, iron wafted up her nose, and she thought about asking Hotch if she could step outside for a moment, knowing he likely wouldn’t question her perhaps ever again after their little phone call. 

“What other reasons would he have for separating plasma from the blood?” Hotch asked, and her brow furrowed, her mouth opening to speak before another voice cut her off.

“It’s a habit,” 

She swore she gave herself whiplash with how fast her head snapped to the side. She would know his voice anywhere. It sounded lost and desolate, yes, but her eyes swirled with relief when she saw him standing there, looking skittish and tired but alive. 

“Reid,” Morgan breathed, the same level of surprise she felt as JJ darted towards him, her arms wrapping around his middle before he could protest.

“Spence,” She said, and they hugged one another tightly, his eyes following over Jennifer’s shoulder to where Bugsy seemed to watch him unsurely, like she was waiting for him to tell her what to do, how to make it better, how to fix it. A girl who had always been so sure of herself now reduced to pining from afar for answers. 

“I didn’t expect you back this soon. You sure you're ready?” Hotch asked, an almost identical look of hesitance on his face as Bugsy had on hers, and it was no wonder half of the department said they were two sides of the same coin.

“No but I think I figured something out,” He breathed, moving out of JJ’s embrace towards the boards where the victim profiles were, and he began speaking in that slow, cold tone he’d taken on. 

Spencer, to no one's surprise, was able to all but fit their disjointed puzzle pieces together in the space of an hour's flight, and with just a few pointers in Garcia’s direction, they’d got their UnSub. 

“And bingo was his name-o, actually his name is Bryan Hughes, he is an AB positive haemophiliac who works as a janitor at the Bay Area Museum of Art. And before you ask, yes his address has been sent to your phones.” Penelope rushed, pinging the information to their phones just as fast as it had appeared on her screen.

“You’re the best baby girl,”  Morgan said into the speaker, hanging up the phone as the team stood from their place at the desk, Hotch assigning them tasks as everyone strapped on their kevlars and guns. 

She held back for a moment, her eyes assessing him like man approaching a wounded wolf. 

“I’m okay-” He was about to say, because he knew what she was going to ask before she thought to do it, except she simply nodded at him, turning on her heel to follow the others, despite him expecting something more Bugsy-like. 

It wasn’t like her to leave him without some final word, some final stand, and he was right. Because no sooner had she gotten all of three paces, she whirled back around, heading back towards him with a timid expression, and she all but launched herself into his arms. 

He held her tight, the warmth of her body making his eyes well up, because if there was anything that could have made him crack his resolve, it was her touch alone. 

She carded her fingrs through his hair, tucking her face into his neck and breathing in deeply. 

“I’ll see you when I get back,” She murmured, stopping herself from saying anymore as she released him, well aware of the fact he had tried squeezing her tighter before she’d had to let him go, like he hadn’t wanted her to go. But neither did she. 

“Stay safe,” He said on instinct, and she nodded, her eyes trailing over his empty eyes and sallow skin. 

She wanted to kiss away every trace of sadness there, but she couldn’t. Wanted to wrap him into a hug so tight she might just stop breathing, but it would have been worth it. Wanted to tuck him into bed and stroke his hair and feed him tea and chocolate and make sure he was kept well, because she’d do anything to make him better. 

But she couldn’t. They had a case. 

It took every scrap of resolve to let go of Spencer Reid, sheepish and mourning, and leave him in that room alone. 

–

She sighed, scrubbing at the back of her hand with the shitty aeroplane soap they had on the jet, the tiny basin doing nothing to help the fact she was all but peeling off the top layer of her epidermis. 

Catching Bryan had been messy; he had come at her with a scalpel, she had shot, his blood had sprayed over her arms, soaking right through. Spencer had all but gone white when she’d gotten to the runway, hoping to make it back to Quantico by midnight. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He fretted, despite the fact it was the closest he'd come in weeks to an emotion that wasn't sadness, and he stood little more than a few centimetres away, his fingers twined together, wanting to check her over himself. 

She waved him off, “It’s not mine. I’m going to wash up on the plane, don’t worry,” She replied, her expression exhausted, twitching on the spot to stop herself pushing his hair behind his ear. She knew he’d washed it because it looked particularly fluffy, the way it always did when he hadn’t bothered to style it before he left the house, “Are you okay?” 

He nodded wordlessly, and took her mini suitcase from her side, wheeling it along the tarmac for her, his face a worried scowl as they boarded the jet. 

She thanked him as she stepped past him putting it in the overhead luggage, heading straight for the toilets to wash up, Morgan and JJ ducking out of the way when they saw Carrie 2.0 passing by them. 

It wasn’t until they were already in the air did she emerge, her change of clothes on her skin that had been rubbed raw, her uniform in a biohazard bag that she swiftly dumped at the back of the jet to keep it out of sight. She threw herself down on the nearest seat, her entire body aching from the long few days, but she didn’t miss the hazel eyes that bore into the side of her head to her right. 

She turned to meet their gaze, even though she already knew who it was before she’d even looked. Spencer looked like he was caught between about five different sentences to start with, his eyes trailing down her arms and to her hands that were now squeaky clean. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He murmured, and she flipped her palms over for him to see for himself. No cuts. No abrasions. Except her usually marred cuticles she’d been picking at all day. 

“Pinkie promised, didn’t I?” She teased, but no humour met his face. He just looked back at her, like he didn’t quite believe her still, like she was a ghost where his best friend should be sat, or a trick of the light. She turned her knees towards him, her sleepy eyes buttery and genuine, as if she was trying to make herself as relaxed as possible, just so he would stop worrying, “Spencer, I’m fine. Didn’t even knick me,”

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking down to his satchel bag where he played with the buckle, the brown leather cold in between his fingers, “I’m sorry I’ve been weird and distant and ignoring you- I just…”

“Spencer,” She tried to interject with a honeyed voice, but he shook his head, a crease forming between his brows when he heard her say his name like that. 

“I just worry I’m letting everyone down, but when I saw you covered in blood-” He gulped, willing his eyes not to burn up again with unshed tears. 

“Spence, it’s okay,” She cooed, shuffling closer to him in her seat, her hand migrating to his knee, because she didn’t know if he’d want to touch her after she’d had someone else's blood all over her hand. She liked her chances, yet the last thing she wanted was to push him. “No one’s expecting you to go back to normal, I just want to know you’re safe. I owe you as much, I mean you looked after me when Emily was gone,” 

“You don’t owe me anything, Bug,” He shook his head again, his brows furrowing and she was quick to correct herself, “Besides, I loved living with you,” He rested his palm over her hand and gave her what he hoped looked like a small smile. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Spence,” She said, flipping her hand over to squeeze his fingers gently, “Did you not think I loved living with you too? I just want to take care of you for me,” 

He looked at her, her eyes hopeful as she roved over his clean clothes, his freshly washed hair, his satchel he’d kept tight in his lap, as if checking him over for bruises despite the fact he hadn’t been in the field. The crushing weight over his chest like a fallen log seemed to shift, and with it, her hand soothed the wound, her smile dried his eyes, her warmth engulfed his very core in a blanket. 

Spencer knew he was going to be okay if it was him and her. He knew the world was livable again if she was fighting in his corner. But then, when hadn’t she been?

Sensing his ease in attitude, or perhaps she just knew his eyes so well to notice the way they seemed to carry less burden as soon as she’d spoken, she leaned back in her seat, “Besides, the boys miss you. They said you gave them more treats than I do and Niko appreciated you brushing his fur for him,”

He smiled over at her bashfully, his head dropping down to lean on her shoulder as she pressed her cheek to his head. 

“Well, if the boys miss me, I guess I have no choice,” He murmured, his eyes heavy the second he rested against her, like she’d sprayed a sedative over him, and he couldn’t help think that her new perfume wasn’t nearly as them as her old one had been. Not that he disliked this one, just that the other one reminded him of morning breakfasts, and movie marathons, and nights when they would bake apple cake at twelve in the morning because she made it how he liked it to a tea. 

She chuckled, and it sounded like a hum in his ear, as he curled up to her side, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we land and I’ll drive us home,”

And it didn’t take much for him to do so, even if something had been right on the tip of his tongue; his apartment had only felt like home when she said it like that. 

+1. The one with the promise.

He’d had that dream again. 

It had been four months since Maeve died, but he’s had that dream again.

He’d start out in a restaurant, the walls lined top to toe with books, the chandelier the perfect amount of dust that it had character but not tackiness. A waiter would bring him over a menu and an iced tea, his favourite. He’d go to look up to ask why he’d been sat at a restaurant he had no recollection of getting to, and he’d see her staring back at him. 

Maeve. Looking healthy and happy, like he hadn’t watched her brains sprayed across that warehouse floor. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” She would say, a glass of some kind of white wine swirling in her hand, her teeth straight and white and pretty when she smiled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you,” He’d say, though he couldn’t feel his mouth moving, he just knew it had come from him. “Where are we?” 

“You promised me a date, so this is it,” Maeve said, a glint in her blue eyes, “First and the last. Let’s make it count,”

His heart would give a jump then, because he’d remember this was the only time he’d ever get to see her. He’d remember that she was dead, that he had never seen her in person like this until the day she’d died. 

He’d open his mouth to apologise, to beg for an explanation or forgiveness, whichever one he thought was more pressing, and then the door would swing open. 

And Bugsy would walk in. 

Donned in the same bluebell dress she’d worn at JJ’s wedding, only her arm wasn’t broken. And she’d walk right up to him, that smile on her face that said she was excited to see him. 

And Maeve would look at her, and instead of scowling or sneering like a woman soaking in jealousy would, they would look at one another and grin like they’d known each other decades. 

“Car’s out front when you guys are done,” Bugsy would chirp, her eyes warm when she looked down at the dead woman, satiated in genuine happiness to see her, “Don’t keep him too long,”

“One dance, Agent Prentiss, and he’s all yours,” Maeve would reply with a giggle, her brunette locks falling like a waterfall over her shoulder when she’d stand, offering a hand to him to sweep him onto the dancefloor, “You coming, Spencer?”

And his eyes would snap open, returning him back to the horrible reality of his darkened bedroom, his apartment silent other than the sound of Bugsy tossing in the spare room, the way she did when she got too warm in her sleep, and he threw his legs out of bed to go get her some cold water. 

But the dream never left him. The same one he’d had for months, since she’d moved in with him to take care of him, make sure he was eating and keeping as happy as he could be. 

The sight of her in that blue dress, waiting for him to finish his dance haunted him almost as much as Maeve did. 

–

“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t been sleeping?” She asked, cornering him in the kitchen once they’d both dropped their go bags in their room and he’d jumped for the kettle to make them both coffee. 

He blanked, the mug nearly slipping from his grasp as he plonked it down on the counter in front of her, “Why would you think-”

“Spencer,” She said as a warning, her lip quirking between her teeth as she gnawed at it worriedly. 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” He confessed too quickly, scratching the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous, “I know you worry about me, especially right now, and when you worry, you don’t sleep, and I just thought what’s the point in both of us running on nothing,” 

She huffed, and he shuffled around the island to meet her where she stood by the bar stools, looking like she wanted to be cross with him but she couldn’t find it in herself. 

“You should have told me, I could have stroked your back the way you liked, or, I don’t know,” She shrugged, looking anywhere but his guilty looking hues, “Smuggled night nurse in your tea,”

“Drugs. Cause that’s way better than my thing,” He teased, and she snickered, and he sighed in relief that she wasn’t really mad at him. He hated lying to her, he’d just wanted to keep his odd dream to himself until he could make sense of it, “Did Dave tell you anything else?” 

She shook her head, and he knew she was telling the truth because she seemed to immediately be the one assessing him for anything else she should have been told much sooner. 

“Is your head okay?” She asked, putting a gentle hand to his forehead to check for migraine heat, “I know they get worse when you don’t sleep-”

“My head’s fine, Bug,” Spencer replied, grabbing her hand with his long fingertips, pulling them from his face to squeeze at her side with a warming smile, “Promise. I’ll tell you if it gets bad,”

She watched him sceptically for a moment before she leaned over to grab her coffee, taking a long sip, and sighing in delight when it tasted perfect, “I love your memory, did I ever tell you that?”

He chuckled, dodging a rogue Niko that bobbed between his feet because it was almost dinner time for the two miscreants, moving back over to the sink to tidy the granules of sugar he’d spilled, “Many times. But I’d remember your coffee even if I had a normal brain,”

“Humble as always,” She remarked, smiling devilishly when he shot her a glare over his shoulder. It was then that Sergio jumped up onto the counter, the way Spencer had tried scolding him for a million times because of the germs, only for the onyx black cat to flick his tail in his face as if to flip him a middle finger, yowling in the man’s face for his usual dinner of kibble and water. 

“Alright, alright,” Spencer sighed, reaching into the cabinet to grab their food, two fluffy bodies immediately weaving in between his long legs with mews and head bumps, because those boys knew how to wrap him around their little finger, “You ought to start being nice to me, boys. One day it’ll probably just be me and you guys, and then you can’t just bat your tails at me like you do your mom-”

“I know I’m turning twenty eight but I still got a few years left kicking, Spence,” Bugsy protested, her brows furrowing when she heard his murmurs, which she hadn’t found entirely odd since he always spoke to the boys when he fed them, except this time it had made her draw back in confusion, “Where am I in this hypothetical bachelor pad you got going on?”

“You’ll be with whatever guy is lucky enough to talk his way into dating you, maybe engaged, maybe married,” He said like it was nothing, despite the fact he’d been thinking about that exact scenario for months. Since Penelope had mentioned just how good British men were in bed, in fact. Because he felt both sick and curious as to whatever it had been that had come out of her mouth in return, “And I’ll look after the boys while the two of you move on, because you’ll feel sorry for taking my only friends away from me when you leave, and I’ll be forced to become a lonely, old cat man,” 

“That’s not true,” She said, her face warming when he chuckled cynically, running a hand through his hair, “Spence, you can’t actually believe that?”

“Yes it is, Bugsy, you don’t need to try and make me feel better,” He brushed her off, wiping his knuckles over heavy eyelids, “You and I both like facts, right? It’s a quantifiable fact that zero women except Maeve have ever fallen in love with me in thirty years. Even if we call it twelve years to remove the factor of less meaningful relationships developing before adulthood, that means I’ll be forty two by the time I next get a shot, at which point I’ll be too old and washed up for anyone to find me attractive. Let’s face it, no one is ever going to love me like that again,”

“That’s not true,” She repeated, her chest hammering, her face scrunched into a scowl, “You’re wrong. Quantifiably wrong.”

“You have no data to back that statement up, Bug,” He replied with a dark snicker, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or the idea of her engaged to some other bonehead that had made him so crass, “Can’t make a conclusion without drawing on your evidence, to which you have none,” 

“Yes, I do, asshole. I know for a fact that someone is in love with you,” She snapped, and it was like a bolt of lightning had cut through their conversation, blowing up in her face, her entire body freezing the second the words had left her mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes panicked, and all teasing had dropped out of his expression, leaving something confused, “Bug-”

“I don’t know why I said that,” She cut him off, jumping into action and avoiding his burning gaze. But he was fast, and he was pushing off the counter just as quickly as her. 

“Bugsy, what do you mean? I don’t understand,” He persisted, darting only a pace behind her when she moved towards the living room to grab her cardigan off the back of the sofa.

She shook her head, “Ignore that, it doesn’t matter,”

“No, what did you mean by that?” Spencer asked, his voice tense because he had never seen her cower away from him like that, her body moving entirely into a state of flight. She shook her head, snatching the white fabric in her fingers and spinning on her heel to head for the doorway. But there he was, blocking her escape, his impossibly tall body stopping her right in her tracks, and she didn’t need to look up to know he had that special Spencer brand of Puppy Eyes. 

“I’m going to the store-”

“Bugsy,” 

“It doesn’t matter, Spence, just leave it,” She said shakily, trying to duck around him only for him to dodge to the left and stop her advance, “Spence, leave it, please,” 

“What did you mean? Just tell me,” He begged, his cadence wary, the sound of it flushing her entire chest with a heat she’d never known. She swore she was going into cardiac arrest, her heartbeat was in her throat, and it made it difficult to swallow, let alone push him away, “Do you know something?”

Her breaths were deep, begging her chest to behave as it damn near spun her vision into dizziness. He was just a man. He was just a boy. How could he have so much control over her entire body when he had barely even touched her? When he had just asked her one tiny little question? 

It was unethical, how her stomach rippled with butterflies the second she dared to look at his hazel eyes, round and intense where they never left her face. It should have been illegal for begging to look so good on him. 

She took a sigh, shaking her head and looking back to his mismatched socks, chuckling bitterly, and putting her head in her hands. She couldn’t escape from this, her only defence mechanism was to curl into herself like an armadillo against a predator, her attacker being the god's honest truth that he was owed years ago. 

“I really,” She cleared her throat, her eyes starting to burn with unshed tears, “I really messed things up with you,” 

“What?” Spencer’s hot hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could hear her every word clearly, “I thought we were okay now, I thought we were friends again,”

She laughed emptily, her bottom lip quivering, her hands shaking under his touch. He was so warm, he always had been, but it felt as if he was everywhere when he was only really touching the skin of her pulsepoint. She hoped he couldn’t feel just how it beat for him, beat so loud and fast all for him. 

“That’s the problem,” She whispered, her glassy eyes meeting his as she gave an unsure breath, gulping loudly. It was like he stared right at her soul, and pleaded it to speak to him. And she had never been able to say no to him, not when he looked like that, “When I came back from London, I came back to tell you that…” 

She breathed again, because she felt like she was holding it while she confessed, she knew it was no wonder she felt so dizzy, but she couldn’t look away from him, where his face was morphing into realisation. 

“I came to tell you that.. I-I’m in love with you, Spencer,” A single tear dribbled down her cheek, but he let go of her hands quickly to catch it, his lips pressing together in a silenced word, most like ‘oh’. His brows quirked above his nose, his eyes turning into devastation as soon as she’d said it. But it was out there now, so there was no use in trying to keep it in anymore. “I have been, for a while I think, and I wanted to tell you because I thought you might-might-” She gulped, the finger that had brushed the first tear stroking down until it rested under her jaw, the feeling of it damn near making her whine, “I don’t know, I just hoped you would feel anything back- but you don’t have to say anything, I know you’re hurting and so I just kept it in, but every time I see you I feel like I’m choking and I don’t know how to make it stop-”

“Tell me you’re lying,” Spencer said with a biting tone, his eyes honey comb gold and glistening when he looked at her. It couldn’t be true. He never got this lucky. It couldn’t be, he refused-

She shook her head frantically, her eyes pleading and wet, “Never, Spencer. I would never lie to you. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you- I know you’re hurting, I know you’re grieving and I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“I love you too,” He whispered, and it was like her words came to fruition as her voice was robbed, the air leaving her lungs. Her jaw dropped, her wet eyes boring into his chest, his hands skirting up to hold her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over her tear ladened skin, “God, Bug, I’ve loved you for so long, I thought you didn’t want anything like that after that kiss-”

Her expression dropped, eyebrows scrunching together, “What kiss?” 

He blanked, for once speechless. Only the kiss he’d torn himself to pieces over for weeks and weeks. “The night- that Derek brought you over when you’d had…” He trailed off, wanting to throttle himself for how dumb he’d been in retrospect, “When you’d had the Molly,” 

Her hand slapped over her mouth, his own hands flying to palm at his eyes, because how could he be so incredibly stupid. Ecstasy was a memory suppressant. He knew, he knew better than most, that taking recreational drugs like that robbed you of even the most life shattering moments. 

She didn’t remember. How could she? She was so out of it she could barely walk without stumbling over a flat surface. And instead of asking her, instead of simply growing a pair and seeing what she remembered, he’d gotten a girlfriend.

This was all wrong. This was so wrong. The guilt from Maeve dying was a wound that had cut him deep, and yet having Bugsy in his arms so placid and warm and adoring was a salve he had never dreamed would feel so numbing.

“We kissed?” She asked, her eyes blazing with embarrassment, her hand running through her hair in shock horror, “I don’t- how don’t I remember that- that’s all I dreamed of for months-” 

“Technically you kissed me,” He explained, despite the fact his cheeks had set on fire hearing her confess even the smallest bit more to him. She loved him. She was in love with him. She had been for months, she said. She loved him. “It would have been wrong if I did anything even if it was all I’d thought of too. And I just thought, because you never mentioned it, that you didn’t want to remember it at all,” 

He felt like he’d taken some sort of truth serum, like he should shut himself up any second now because he was spilling his longest kept secret to the one person who should have never been privy to it. But it was okay if she knew. Because she loved him.

She looked at him, and he swore he’d never seen eyes so beautiful, but then he’d always loved her eyes. But the way they looked at him, as if he’d had a bag pulled from over his head, or his glasses had been given the correct prescription, because it was like he suddenly saw just how adoring she looked when she watched him like that. 

And despite herself, she laughed. 

It was girlish, and carefree, and happy. So, so happy. And he started laughing too. She fell into his chest, her face hot with embarrassment, and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her giggling into his shirt, shaking her head. 

“We’re so fucking stupid,” She said, and it was mumbled, and the sound of it made him smile wider.

“I’m a stupid, stupid man. I’m so sorry, Bug,” He replied, his large hand stroking down the back of her hair though a sour taste crawled up his throat. 

He still owed Maeve that dance. Just as he’d told Rossi. Who had told Bugsy, because he knew she had some magic way of getting her way with everyone.

She pulled away, her eyes young and so incredibly pretty when she smiled at him like that. Sensing his hesitation, she tried to pull away from his embrace, worried like it was second nature to her by now that she’d overstepped. Only he didn’t let her. He kept his hand at the back of her head, one under her arm to pin her close to his body, because he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let her go twice. 

“You said you tried to tell me when you got back from London?” He said softly, and she nodded, like her confession had taken everything out of her, “But then when you got here… I was with Maeve,” 

She swallowed, worried where he was going, and nodded again wordlessly. 

He chewed the inside of his lip, taking a deep breath for courage, “I’m still- I feel terrible if-”

“You can still grieve, Spencer,” She cut him off, knowing what he was struggling to say, and his eyes crawled back up to meet her gaze, “It’s not heinous to need time to think, I know it’s a lot to ask, I never expected you to-”

He cut her off with a kiss to the apple of her cheek, warm and angelic, the feeling of it forcing her mouth shut, because she worried she might just whimper in delight if she didn’t. Her hand flew up to his forearm that moved around to cup neatly under her ear, his fingers weaving into her hair as he kissed again down near her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut. And when she thought it was done, when she thought her luck was spent, he kissed her again, on the cusp of her lips, a ghost breath slipping from a parted mouth, because she thought she might have just died and gone to heaven. 

“Bugsy, I love you,” Spencer said, and her heart felt full, so full her eyes welled up all over again because it was everything she had ever wanted, “I just need a little time,”

Her eyelids flicked open, and the bliss written over her face took a knock, her head reeling back like he’d burned her. But, as before, he didn’t let her go, He refused to let her run away again. Not when he had everything he wanted, “That’s not a ‘no’. It’s just a very stupid man who has loved you for longer than you’d know hoping on everything that you’ll be willing to give me a month or two. I want to do this right, you deserve to have this done right, and I want to give you only the best version of myself,” 

Spencer’s heart pounded against his slender ribcage as he waited for her response, because he knew he was pushing his luck. But he’d meant every word of it, and he figured if he had any chance at being the guy he’d always told himself she needed, he’d need to be honest with her. They’d need to be honest with each other.

But she smiled at him, sweet and besotted beneath his palm, and he didn’t know why he’d ever doubted her. 

“I waited six years, what’s a few months on top of that?” She smirked, her face glowing when he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead, and he felt how hot her blood ran under his touch. He hoped she couldn’t feel how his did the same. 

“I promise. Just a few more months, bug,”

And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer meant it. He wouldn’t let her go ever again. 

--

TAGLIST:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches s @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie

[ragingbookdragon]

She feels the warmth flooding down the front of her gear as the frigidness seems to crawl up from her fingers and toes. Her breathing labors as the man pulls her inside the crumbling building under the veil of night and cradles her against his body, her back pressed against his chest. His fingers find their way underneath her vest, and she knows she should feel pain where his fingers press against, but all she feels is a numbness.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters.

“Ghost,” she whispers breathlessly. “I’m scar—I’m scared, Ghost.”

He shakes his head a single time. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t wanna die,” she says more to herself than to him, panic setting in. “God, I don’t wanna die now. I don’t wanna—”

“You’re not dying,” Ghost growls. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“Ghost—”

“You’re gonna be fine. I’m gonna fix this. I’ll fucking fix—”

“Simon,” she stresses, shifting enough to see his face from the corner of her eye. “I’m dying.”

He swallows thickly and gazes at her for a moment before the lump returns. “Fuck, I—I’m not ready.”

“Neither am I,” she smiles, blood staining her teeth, and leans back, her temple to his chin. “Will you…will you stay with me?”

Simon presses harder against her, cursing the tears that sting his eyes. “Yeah, love, I’ll stay.”

She settles then, flightiness stilling in her veins as she relaxes against him. “This isn’t how I imagined going.”

He doesn’t want to ask. Doesn’t want to hear all the fanciful bullshit she’s about to spew about how they grow old and gray, but Simon also knows he’d rather hear her voice all he can before he can never hear it again unless it’s through a speaker.

“How’d you imagine it?” he forces his throat to open.

Her smile is like the stars in the night sky. “Old. In bed together. In our sleep.” She shuffles a bit. “Our kids find us, cuddled close, safe.”

Simon grits his teeth, cracking them under the strain, his jaw aches. “How many kids?”

“Two boys. One girl. Simon Junior, we’d call him SJ. Jonathan Kyle, after Price, Soap, and Gaz.”

“And the girl?”

“Aphra Emeline.”

He nods. “Good name. Strong. Built for a fancy lady.”

“She’d run everyone over.”

“With your looks and my attitude?” he jokes. “Of course. She’d strike ‘em dead with one withering look.”

Her lungs are starting to fail her, and she shivers. “Simon, marry me.”

He can’t stop the tears this time and they drop down his cheeks onto her head. “Who’s gonna officiate?”

“Me. All power vested in me.” She sucks in a breath. “Do you take me as your lawfully wedded wife? To love, honor, and cherish, through sickness and health, until death do us part?”

“I do,” he promises. “And even after life, I will.”

“I take the same. I now pronounce us husband and wife.” She turns with the last bit of failing strength she has, pulls his mask down, and says, “Kiss me.”

Simon’s calloused hands are gentle as he cups her face, brushes his thumb over her cool skin and presses his lips to hers, tears mixing on each other’s faces as he kisses her with everything, he has in him. All the things Ghost is not, he gives in this moment to her. All his hopes, all his dreams, all his love for a better ending. He gives it up in this moment as he burns it into his mind that Simon Riley will never live after—only Ghost.

“I love you, Simon,” she whispers against his lips, and he shakes his head.

“I love you too,” he manages between hers. “I’ll stay,” he promises, pulling away to press his forehead to hers, staring at her. “I will stay.”

“I know,” she says. “I know you will.”

He memorizes the color of her eyes, the shape of her nose, the feel of her skin beneath his hands, every detail he can about her, and it’s only when her head tilts forward, forehead bumping his lips that he knows.

Simon inhales and exhales one time, a single, agonizing howl.

[gayandfairycore]

The prince, the magician and the physician

Summary when the witchfinder accuses you of having magic you must convince Arthur that your feelings for the boy have never been disingenuous. And Merlin must race against the clock to save you but can you be saved? Can your relationship with Arthur? Can love truly conquer Arthur’s prejudice?

Italics mean flashbacks

Word count: about 8k

Warning: torture, mention of execution, feeling betrayed, readers anxious, reader accepts death, canon divergence (but same overarching plot), Arthur may be a bit ooc sorry!

A/n: who’s back with the bbc Merlin fics? Me!!!!!!! Two fics in *almost* the same month-WHO is she? But seriously I’ve been writing more and I’m so glad I have I really enjoy writing these fics for you guys and to everyone who has supported me thank you so much!! We hit 900 followers a few weeks ago and it was such a milestone thank you all for enjoying my fics enough to follow!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The witch finders arrival had you and Merlin in shambles he had already been pointing fingers and he had been in Camelot for nearly a day and already had been accusing people of having magic.

What was worse, he had witnesses. Three girls from the lower town who had been seeing traces of magic a man coughing up a frog from his throat, to a goblin dancing in the flames of a dying fire. To faces of the drowned in the well. with every confession you sent an angry glare to Merlin beside you, since he was the reason this witch finder had been called in the first place.

Fear bubbled in your throat when the witchfinder said he already had suspects. and who the witchfinder had accused happened to be yourself, Merlin, and the lady morgana.

It was day three when he found “proof” you were a witch. (Of course you were but the proof was bogus. It wasn’t yours.)

It wasn’t Merlin’s either, it was an amulet poorly hidden in a pot. Neither yourself nor Merlin were skilled with charming jewellery, and you couldnt wear bracelets whilst being the court physicians apprentice, besides when would you even have the time to charm jewellery? Between saving Arthur, being gauis’s apprentice, and watching over Merlin you never had a second to breathe.

But despite having never seen the amulet in your life you knew the witchfinder would see no sense. Men like that never would, and what was worse the witchfinder happened to be an old friend of gauis, with a reputation based on brutality and hatred. He despised magic with a passion if he suspected you, you were already as good as dead.

But you couldn’t let Merlin die by the hands of the witchfinder, Merlin had far too much life ahead of him.

He had to protect Arthur. He had to unite Albion. he had to live long enough to see Arthur’s rule And believe me There was nothing you wanted more than to see Arthur unite Albion and bring magic to the land But you weren’t the one destined to unite Albion, you were however destined to protect those you loved and some part of you was okay with dying for the cause of keeping your family safe.

and if you were asked if you regretted taking the fall for Merlin or gauis, of course you’d say no. He was your best friend and gauis was like a grandfather to you. You’d let them sentence you to death a thousand times over if it meant Merlin was safe. If gauis was safe.

“Search through that cupboard and under the bed!” The witch finders commanding voice called out to the guards as they tore apart gauis’s chambers you were aware by now that the moment he walked in he’d already deemed you guilty.

By the way His eyes narrowed like a predator to prey, the atmosphere was tense like he’d been preparing to go for the kill for awhile now. and disgust permeated from his figure in waves this man watched you like you were the dirt on his shoe, some small disgusting insect that deserved to die if he even thought you had magic.

Sharing a nervous glance at gauis your hands wringing nervously in your lap as you watched these knights destroy your home your gaze asked gauis the same question he’d been dreading, where was Merlin’s spell book?

If you were going to go down for magic paraphernalia you fully thought it would be because of Merlin’s spell book not some poorly disguised amulet that wasn’t yours in the first place.

Leon had been the one to find the amulet a haunted look in his eyes you could tell Leon did not want to do this, but honour bounded the knights more than kinship. More than years spent with each other from childhood sparring, to treating his wounds when Leon grew from a bashful baby faced boy into a lean young man practicing to become a knight.

He was honour bound to tell this monster what he found And you’d hate to see Leon burned beside you under the guise of solidarity. It was better for one to burn than two.

“An. enchanted. amulet.” The witchfinder spoke slowly as he inspected the Jewlery, every word sealing your fate “whose is this? Perhaps the boy Merlin Or the girls? Or even yours, old friend.” The witch finder sneered pointing his finger in your face as he circled gauis and yourself like you were prey

Your horror filled eyes flickered to gauis and you watched as his mouth opened and his eyes flashed with familiar selflessness it was clear, what the old man was going to do, he loved his little family as much as you did and you’d hate to see the old man take the blame for you or Merlin again.

living with gauis has already been enough of a burden you couldn’t let him die for something he had no part in (not that you did either but you were nothing if not loyal.) your heart constricted in your chest, your stomach dropping

One of you would surely be executed for this but you would not let it be Merlin, or gauis. It would be you before it ever was them.

Taking a shaky breath you stepped forward your hand out to block gauis front from stopping you “it’s mine.”

And the beat of your heart deafened you the room went deadly silent guards hands went to their swords ready for anything, in the corner of your eye gauis’s face went ghostly pale filled with horror as he watched his youngest apprentice, the girl he practically raised as if his own stare down this false god with cold eyes the sent fear shooting through gauis, you were capable you like Merlin had the ability to destroy your enemies without lifting a finger but gauis knew you better than for you to defend yourself. But you would be brave braver than anyone else.

You steeled yourself infront of the witchfinder your eyes narrowed dangerously. You did not take kindly to those attempting to ruin your family.

“Guards.” With one word the witch finder sealed your fate, looking to gauis behind you, your eyes only let your guard slip for a moment and the old man saw the burning fear that filled your gaze. As Leon’s hands restrained you with hesitation.

“you can’t!” Gauis called pointedly to the witchfinder “it’s not hers! she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Gauis pleaded desperately after you seething from where he stood, he would not watch another child die.

you felt your heart break for the man who was like your father. “Leon, please.” You pleaded to Leon to release your hands for just a moment and the man you’ve known since childhood released his grip for only a second it was enough for you to break his hold and sprint to take gauis in a hug

Crashing into his arms you closed your eyes blinking away tears And you muttered the one phrase that could save you, that could reverse this fatal mistake, the one thing that stopped the panic in gauis for only a moment “It’s not mine.”

Before Leon’s hands had pulled you from gauis’s comforting arms, your tearful eyes met gauis and you expected to be met with fear but a newfound determination in gauis’s face calmed you, hope filled your heart Merlin would find a way to save you he always did.

Leon bent your hands behind your back and lead you down the halls of the castle

The witchfinder leading you through the halls, your Druid communication had been the most useful in situations like this, situations where Merlin was nowhere to be found

“Merlin, if you can hear this please find a way to get me out of this. The witchfinder has accused us of using magic be careful. Help me Merlin, Please find Arthur.” You didn’t get a response despite the fact You had never begged and you never had sounded quite as hopeless as you did then, even when you were behind enemy lines, in enemy dungeons it was different.

They weren’t your friends, weren’t your family sentencing you to die this was.

As you were dragged through the halls Camelot knights walked all around you, their billowing red capes with the golden dragon crest that once brought you so much comfort now brought only dread, the burning memory being wrapped up in Arthur’s cape on a hunting trip once dearly reminisced now just felt cruel.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The braying of horses and the taps of hooves on the ground as you, the knights, Arthur and Merlin set off on a hunt you found it silly to be hunting for game for fun but you couldn’t refuse the invite considering you were arthurs personal physician recommended by gauis (and Merlin babysitter) and atleast you were with your closest friends who are the loyalist of loyal.

As opposed to being stuck in gauis’s chambers mulling over books like you do almost daily you’d take any possible time with Arthur especially away from prying eyes.

The sun was starting to go down and you were too far away from Camelot to head home so Arthur called it and you’d be camping in the woods tonight, you didn’t mind. It was nice to camp under the stars with your friends away from all the expectations, The watchful eyes. Camelot was home but it was growing increasingly more dangerous.

Here, in the forest with Arthur and Merlin and the knights you were more than just a physician you were equal. You were more then just lower class, you were free and here under the constant cover of trees and the darkening blanket of the setting sun you could be more than some backup physician, you were just y/n. And Prince Arthur was just Arthur.

And if you could have just cupped this moment in your hands and held it tightly to your chest you would have.

Camped by a large oak tree in Arthur’s arms his red cape with the golden pendragon sigil covered your body from the elements keeping you safe and warm and in the light of the fire there was no fear, no worry about expectations. Or watching eyes all that mattered was being truly yourself with the man you love in his arms unashamed.

When sleep finally stole you away from Arthur Merlin couldn’t stop the question that was brewing for months “do you love her?” The young man asked scouring the ground with a stick his arms rested on his knees as he watched the couple together Merlin knew this would turn out badly his best friend, a physician with no title dating the crowned prince of Camelot? A recipe for disaster

He knew what his destiny foretold, he knew the perils and he knew that your role in destiny would surely not let this freedom, this unabashed love stay happy. There could be no room for happiness when you had magic.

“Of course I love her.” The prince found himself telling Merlin hesitation in his voice fear rolling from him in waves, by now it was the late hours of the night, the knights and yourself long since asleep and Merlin and Arthur the only ones still awake

“You know your father would never approve?” Merlin spoke assured that if uther found out you’d most likely be executed

“I know that Merlin, but one day it will be different my father will have no say and I will be king when I am king I want her- to be my queen.” Arthur’s fingers run through your hair softly a promise Arthur swore to himself he would keep his arms wrapping tightly around your waist the soft sound of your breathing calming Arthur’s pounding heart he knew this was reckless and senseless but this was love. And love has no logic.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Now a bitter taste of betrayal sat heavily on your shoulders as you were flanked by those you call friends as they lead you to your death you couldn’t blame them it’s not their fault they have to follow uther but it leaves a horrible taste in your mouth

How things had changed.

It was sad to feel Leon’s grip firm but not brutish still trying not to hurt you as if he wasn’t leading you to what would be your death. You were aware from the moment Arthur managed to steal your heart you’d end up on the gallows or burnt at the stake or you’d face death in battle intentionally scheduled by uther. He hated anyone who was not of noble blood for Arthur.

And No good ever came from destiny, and if it was your destiny to die in place of your loved ones you’d die a valiant death. But it didn’t stop the shake in your hands.

You could mask your fear you would not give the witchfinder what he wants. He would not break you.

But leon could feel the shake in your hand and feel the erratic beat of your heart from the pulse point on your wrist and he wanted nothing more than to damn the consequences and save you but he couldn’t. you could only rely on Merlin to prove the witchfinder a fraud and you to be innocent you could only pray for Arthur’s forgiveness. After your innocence is proven.

But the horrible feeling of dread that was building in your stomach as they were leading you into the dungeons a cell- no doubt already made up- And down every step you felt like throwing up when you finally made it to the bottom of the stair case the scent of wet earth and straw filled your nose the bricks that lined the dungeon and its torches that burned steadily along the side of the stairs made you feel ill.

The witch finder swung open the first vacant cell and Leon was forced to keep you there walking you the the center of the room, the suns rays that slipped through the cracks of the small window warmed your face but it didn’t comfort you, soon the sun would be your clock, your tally mark for your final night alive if Merlin failed.

Leon’s hands left yours and still the ache in your shoulders stayed “I’m sorry” he spoke lowly in your ear before he stepped away you turned to finally face your friend

“Leon, let Arthur know I’m sorry” You called to the man who grew up beside you who had been growing up pledging to die for Camelot even if that meant dying young he never expected the young girl with so much light in her eyes, and gentleness that always managed to calm her patients, he never thought she’d be the one on deaths door before him.

Before the man could reply the witch finger slammed the cell door shut and sneered through the bars “not to worry he’ll find out soon enough.”

Your heart constricted in your chest as you watched them all walk away the iron in the Camelot dungeons nullifying your powers and your connection with Merlin you couldn’t hear his reply to your plea you were well and truly alone you could of course break out from the cells the iron didn’t make you powerless only dulling your connection with the earth, the place your power comes from. But you couldn’t put your friends at risk.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was hours later when guards came to haul you away to your sentencing, heavy iron handcuffs clicked into place over your hands large chains weighing you down & tight enough to make the skin on your wrists rub painfully.

As Guards lead you through the castle to the throne room, there you stood at the large mahogany double doors two guards on either side as they flung the doors open all your friends and family, all your previous patients were standing there watching as the witchfinder lead you in as the number one suspect, the guilty witch. two guards gripped your arms and threw you to the ground in front of the king, a man who you’ve spent countless hours mending, and stitching up alongside gauis.

Your hands shook as your knees took the brunt of the force, your chains rattling from where you were you couldn’t see Merlin, or gauis. But You could feel Merlin’s energy over the crowd

“I’m going to get you out of this y/n, I swear.” Merlin promises to you through your Druid telepathy and you bit back the tears as You scowled at the sight of the ground. you couldn’t bare look up at the sight of morgana in front of you, of Arthur infront of you fear that you’ll see nothing but disgust, embarrassment and regret on his face.

“Here is the first witch I’ve uncovered in my short time here in Camelot. The court physicians apprentice. The princes! Physician!” Every word the witch finder spoke booms over the crowd as he exclaims to the counsel shock no doubt painted their faces you’ve treated every single person in this room and you’ve used magic on quite a few to save them. Why was that a bad thing? If you have the power to save someone was that not the right thing to do? Magic is not bad but people are.

“WHO can imagine what she could have used on the prince unsupervised! What magic she could have used and at what cost to the prince!” By the gasps of those standing around the room the witchfinders words seemed to make them angry, seemed to make the king angry he loved Arthur in his own way so for the witchfinder to use Arthur to sentence you, god. You were surely going to die.

“No.” Arthur’s words were quiet this was the first time he had said anything “y/n a witch? I mean come on we’d know! She’s lived in Camelot since she was five. And she wouldn’t harm a fly!” Arthur called like it was laughable resting his hand on his hip like it was obvious but by the look in his eye the look of realisation but you couldn’t find disgust you didn’t have time to search for it.

But It made you turn your gaze to the floor Arthur knows. he knows. you have magic. You’ve healed him countless times. no stab wound, or arrow wound could be healed as quickly as his has or all the time he’s been injured in battle only moments before, before the searing pain has been replaced with a dull ache. Or the times as a child where any scrape or scuffed knee had been eased by a soft kiss over the wound. The look of betrayal passing over his face when you gained the courage to finally look at him made you shrink into yourself

“That’s exactly what someone under her spell would say. I fear, uther that the prince is too close to her to see clearly.” The witchfinder spoke with a voice like acid and you couldn’t stand making yourself small if he was going to do you for magic you would not be ashamed. You would not hide from his gaze.

Your chained hands pushed you from your slumped position on the ground your hair messily falling over your face you stood on shaky legs looking at the people in the throne room, all your friends watching you with pity filled faces you couldn’t stand it.

It made you feel sick, especially the fearful teary eyed look from morgana like she was seeing her future you hated this.

Uthers response felt like it took years, “y/n l/n I sentence you to death.” The room fell eerily silent before a scream filled your head, it was Merlin you whirled around to spot him in the crowd tears in his eyes and anger flashing across his face you wouldn’t be surprised if the next attempt on uthers life would be from Merlin.

“No! Father you can’t. What evidence do you have?!” Arthur pleaded with his father quietly by his throne anger glaring in arthurs eyes pointed not at you, it gave you hope that he didn’t hate you enough to want you dead.

“My word is final.” The king sneered and your hope filled heart broke. Swallowing hard your eyes searched for Merlin the fear in your eyes hit him hard as he watched

you be carted out of the court room your eyes locking with Merlin’s anger and tears filled his eyes before your eyes swept to Arthur’s & the sheen of betrayal sat heavy in his eyes and before you could stop yourself you called out for him one last time. As the guards dragged you to the doors.

“Arthur!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The cells in camelots dungeons were always your most hated place to be from the horrid stench to the chill that cooled your bones to the straw that littered the floor In wet mangled clumps. To the extent it weakened your connection to your magic. Your magic was your strength the very essence of you to have it be weakened by the iron felt wrong.

The dungeons were perhaps the scariest place in Camelot there you’d sit, forced to rot as they’re building a funeral pyre for you and your execution is due in a day.

But you’d been there for now two days, and Day by day you were becoming more and more sure that this was the one situation Merlin could not save you from.

by the betrayed look on Arthur’s face when you were lead through the large doors infront of the entire court for your sentencing and the cold look in uthers eyes you were a dead woman walking.

And maybe you deserved it by the look on Arthur’s face as the pieces fell into place and he realised all the times his wounds eased that were not with the help of adrenaline, but magic. it made you wonder did he believe you had enchanted him? Bewitched him to love you? It pained you greatly to even think that Arthur may be in his chambers rethinking every kiss you’ve shared with one another. Would your love ever truly be enough for him to forgive you for magic? Of course he didn’t like magic that was to be expected but he liked you. At least you thought he liked you…

And He liked Merlin, he’d shown countless times indifference to magic, magic that had saved his life countless times, and still the look of betrayal in his eyes made you wonder Were all your secret picnics and stolen kisses in corridors just something to occupy him?

Were you nothing more than Arthur’s dirty little secret, a silly little romance that would have only ended in tragedy?

was it all for nothing?

Were you nothing to him?

No you were not nothing. You were everything you were his in private. the only place he didn’t have to perform. He didn’t have to agree with his father’s actions he could just be Arthur pendragon not the prince.

besides It’s better to have loved Arthur and to die for it than to have never had him at all. You may never be his queen but you were for a fleeting moment, for a fleeting moment you were his and he was yours.

And now you would burn because you loved your family too much to watch them die, you half wondered as you sat in that cell if uther knew.

If he had known you and Arthur were courting in secret and if he called the witchfinder to get rid of more than one the little scandal waiting to happen and you wouldn’t put it past uther to condemn you to death so long as Arthur is still under his control.

The longer you sat in your cell the more you stewed, a slue of emotions crashing over you, from sadness to anger, to acceptance.

You would accept the fate of burning for your loved ones but you would not accept the fate of losing Arthur. Not like this.

You would not be separated by death, if Arthur didn’t want you after knowing the truth you would live with it, but you would not live with not knowing.

Your love for the boy had been too strong you were going to marry Arthur in the future, it wasn’t to far away having a family with the prince, having a life.

That could have been your future. If you were not awaiting execution.

You sat there in drenching sadness that crashed like waves, what was worse was the sound of key’s jiggling. Did you misjudge the days? Was this going to be the end? already?

“You and me are going to have a little talk.” The witch finder sneered unlocking your cell and looking down at you with hatred still you didn’t gaze in his eyes. You watched the floor with intensity as he hauled you off to a different cell leading you through the halls past the staircase you caught sight of a shaky morgana your eyes found hers and suddenly you felt a lot more scared than before.

In the cell there was a chair and a table and a small cart of various medical and surgical weapons ‘oh shit’ your mind screamed as the witch finder forced you to the chair “So we can do this two ways. It’s up to you confess why you’re in Camelot and who else has magic. and maybe I’ll let you live. Don’t tell me and I’ll find out myself.” The cruelty in his tone made you rear back subconsciously eyes narrowing at the witchfinders gaze

“Then” you sighed shakily looking at him through your lashes coldly“you’re going to have to find out yourself.” You summoned every inch of anger and willed it in your tone. Trying to be brave despite the frantic beats of your heart.

But It was hours spent in that damp Camelot cell hidden from the other prisoners clamped to a chair and the witch finder inches from your face and array of striking weapons on a small cart made your breathing hitch.

But you’ve had worse, you’ve had to fight wilderin in hengists kingdom for sport. Both yourself and Gwen had been kidnapped under the guise of being morgana and her physician and so yourself and Gwen were forced to masquerade as morgana and yourself and you were stuck in different cells both damp and smelling of blood and wet earth.

And then there was Lancelot who happened to be hengists champion, and a champion who only days later you’d be thrown into the pit with a wilderin with no weapons with a tied up Gwen and Lancelot. Both yourself and Lancelot had stayed behind to give Gwen time to escape and ultimately were the first to be thrown in the cage again you didn’t mind as long as Gwen escaped you’d be fine.

But Truth be told the odds were very against you, but magic was always going to save you, but using it would doom you especially in front of everyone in hengists court. With the use of magic and a bloodied broken bone from the wilderins last meal made for a convenient way to murder the beast. Until another one came and Merlin and Arthur had saved you just in time From its hideous rat jaws the huge bleeding scar of its teeth in your arm made you detest the stench of blood and earth.

That was probably the worst experience of your life until now. And the scar from the wilderins teeth was still healing but the physical scars meant nothing the torture of being in a cell that smells the same as this dungeon was the worst that and the feeling of knowing your life is going to end were probably the most humbling experiences.

But, the only saving grace was that night in camp where Arthur had taken it upon himself to patch up your wilderin wound (poorly might you add as a physician it was odd to let the only man with very little experience patching someone up, patch you up.)

But you let him anyway and Arthur’s hands held your arm with feather light touches the needle threaded through your flesh with clumsy fingers the stiching off centre and rough around the edges but it was Arthur’s way of telling you he cared, the silk thread slid easily through your flesh but it pained you every stitch Arthur was no physician but he was trying.

“I’m glad you’re okay. And Gwen told me when they questioned you about any secrets of Camelot you never cracked.”

“never Camelot is my home.” You smiled at the prince but your attempt at reassurance failed miserably and he ducked his head

“I wish you, cracked. Then they wouldn’t have given you that.” Arthur pointed to the growing black eye rapidly swelling over your left eye a bruise you got for refusing to rat out any information on when guards were on duty, the way to the Camelot armory or anything you overheard as a physician from any loose lipped clients.

“I am not weak Arthur. I can deal with a black eye and brutish men. I’ve been sparring with you and the knights for years” Your eyes pointed angrily at the boy crossing your arms over your chest despite the half finished stitching feeling the half sewn wound twist painful as you did so but you hid the pain to appear strong something you’ve done since you were young

“I never said that! But you- you aren’t weak. I can’t stand seeing you in pain.” Arthur’s blue eyes bore into yours with such an intensity his eyes flashing from your lips to your eyes his hand cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips softly against yours shock prevented you from kissing back as the blonde went to pull away you chased his lips kissing him back with feverish passion.

“I love you Arthur.” You rested your head against his the exhaustion of the day catching up to you he didn’t say it back but you didn’t care he just had to know.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The memory of Arthur made you feel loved it kept you strong, hit after hit, once against your ribs twice against your face, four times against your legs and once more against your face with enough force to split your lip licking the blood that dripped from your lip your bruised body heaved in pain and still you never cracked.

“Come on miss l/n, just tell me two little names and all this can stop”

“You’re deluded.” You sneered before spitting a wad of blood into the witchfinders face smiling gleefully when your blood tinged spit stained his face but the glee was short lived when the man had sent a quick hit to your chest stealing the air from your lungs.

Before he grabbed a tool with a screw and roughly pulled your thumb into it “you will tell me miss y/n what your intentions are with the prince and with Camelot or I will force it out of you.”

The witchfinder shredded his coat as he leaned over you tightening the screw into your thumb the pressure of the screw against your finger had you squirming in your seat as he tightened the contraption more and more

“All you need to do is confess your accomplices. And this will stop.” His voice echoed the room but the feeling of a sharp screw drilling into your finger tighter and tighter puncturing the nail and skin the pain otherworldly and unbearable you tried to hold your scream back but when the man still did not relent and instead tightened the thumb screw you let out your blood curdling scream.

“WHO! Are! Your! Accomplices!” His voice yelled now as he tightened more and more gut wrenching screams ripped from your throat you would let yourself scream, let yourself cry but you would not tell him a thing.

The crushing feeling of your thumb bones breaking made your heart beat incredibly fast your other ironed hand gripped the table with force your nails digging into the wood

He still tightened the screw and by the loud haunting screams that ripped from you and the smile on the witchfinders face he enjoyed your pain you couldn’t help the salty tears and horrible screams the pain unbearable and overcoming your sense but still your mouth locked on any information like a vault.

“Come on!” His voice boomed as his hands squeezed your bicep his eyes crazed as he watched you

“Fuck you!” You screamed eyes red with tears and fighting the approaching darkness in the corner of your vision

“Aredian, sir. The king has called a meeting and requires your presence.” The servant at the cell door had spoken quietly to the witchfinder nervous in his presence

The witchfinder sighed straightening his posture rolled his eyes and moved close to your ear “no matter, miss l/n. The lady morgana, and Merlin will burn with you soon”

Your heart dropped and you struggled against the restraints the excruciating pain from your finger and the rest of your beaten body the pain in your ribs alluded you to the potential broken bones it caused your panicked shouts to echoed through the dungeon and the witchfinders laugh filled the room

“No! Aredian stop.” You cried to his retreating figure “I’ll confess to the use of sorcery if. And only if, you spare Merlin and morgana.” Your eyes close in defeat

“Good choice, miss y/n. take her to her cell.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

And there you were again cut off from anyone and anything unsure if Merlin would be able to prove you innocent, or if he’d burn with you, or if Arthur still even cared the woman he was courting was about to be executed and had just withstood torture. Hengist was bad but he never had broken your bones or tortured you only tried to feed you to wilderin.

The pain in your thumb had dulled but the bleeding hole had still gushed the measly bandage that consider of your dress did barely anything to stop the bleeding and the iron cells mixed with the torture made your magic virtually ineffective making you unable to fully heal your wounds only dulling the pain of your thumb.

your time was running out and you were truly alone in the cells your connection to Merlin via your druid telepathy was proving useless he wouldn’t respond you couldn’t warn him of the witch finder and by the shine of the moon in your cell you only had hours left.

There is already a funeral pyre with your name on it in the court yard. You couldn’t help the tears that slipped down your cheeks you didn’t want to die not like this and a prison break wasn’t even on your mind they’d just kill Merlin and gaius in your absence there was no way out. and the crushing guilt of something you cannot change began to pound against your skull. Were you born wrong?

Was it wrong to have this magic? This power that has saved those you’ve loved for years why was it seen as inherently evil? Why were you seen as inherently evil? All you wanted was your friends to be safe.

And between the pain that debilitated you from the physical blows to the broken bones in your thumb and the emotional pain of Arthur most likely hating you made you want to just give up.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you cried the stupid scent of blood, earth, and straw polluted your nose. And you found yourself thinking about how lucky Gwen had been to have Lancelot visit her cell in hengists kingdom determined to break her and by extension yourself out.

You had Merlin in your court but you still wished you had someone to hold your hand through the vent even if it was the last thing you’d ever do you didn’t want to die alone.

“Y/n” you heard whispered from the doors of your cell “Arthur?” You called confusion lacing your voice as your red rimmed eyes met Arthur’s and you couldn’t help but run to the cell door resting your head on the bars sobbing in relief at the sight of him the pain from your body put on the back burner for a moment.

“What happened?” Guilt filled Arthur’s heart at the sight of you, your eye healing from your previous beating and now the sight of your bloodied broken thumb and bruised body Arthur saw red.

He felt betrayed at the revelation of your magic of course but he understood why you had kept it a secret and if Arthur had been paying more attention he would have seen it plain as day when you were kids.

Your magic was obvious since childhood Arthur was too blind to see it.

“I know” was all he said eyes stoney and voice unwavering “I know you have magic the witch finder is right.”

Any hope that bubbles in your chest died with his words “Arthur I- i can explain” You tried shaking your head lacing your uninjured hand in his through the cell pleased when he didn’t pull away

“Shhh Merlin told me everything, everything you’ve ever done to save me. Save everyone. I understand why you did what you did.” Arthur spoke lowly his eyes staring into yours trying to convey his apology

“Merlin has come up with a plan to save you, he’s doing it right now but I couldn’t go another day without telling you I’m sorry you had to keep this a secret. I can’t stay for long but- but y/n I love you.” Arthur spoke with all the love he could muster placing a chaste kiss on your lips through the cell

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I was afraid of my father I am supposed to be king one day to marry someone of noble blood, but I don’t want that. I want you.” Arthur’s voice is quiet as he confesses he wants to spend the rest of your lives together

“I want nothing more.” You felt like crying he still wanted you, magic and all.

“Arthur, I was so scared.” You felt so exhausted from the torture to the ticking clock you couldn’t help but cry

“Shh” Arthur’s fingers ghosted over the skin of your cheeks wiping your tears. “We will prove your innocence, I’ll keep your secret. I promise you.”

Arthur placed a kiss on your lips once more pressing a necklace with his ring into your hand before promising Merlin has everything under control.

With your heart a bit lighter you finally sat down on the hard cell bed clutching Arthur’s ring in your hand you let sleep overtake your body trusting that Merlin will save you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

When the bright light of the sun shines through your cell window today is the day you are supposed to die, and part of your questioned if you dreamt Arthur’s presence to save your sanity but by the slight pressure of his ring on a chain in your hand reassured your beating heart.

You were not dreaming, Arthur loves you and Merlin just spent last night trying to save you but there’s still a ticking time bomb of the noon execution and by the switch shift of the guards it was almost 12

Time was ticking and still there was no sign of Merlin you felt sick like your heart was going to fall out of your stomach

You prayed to whatever god or deity was out there that you would not burn today but by the size of the growing crowd outside the cell window your prayers would go unanswered there was nothing you could do but just sit there in anxiety

The rattling of keys and heavy sound of chainmail made you accept the fact that Merlin would be too late to save you and Arthur would watch you burn

When the knight reached your cell his keys turned the lock and he walked towards you slowly your eyes met the floor the pain in your thumb still debilitating but you held Arthur’s ring in your hands tightly if you were to burn your burn knowing you were loved.

To your surprise when the knight takes you by the wrist silver key in hand as he unlocks your handcuffs

Confusion takes over your face as you watch the knight with intensity “what?” You can’t help but ask rubbing your now freed wrist nervous when he takes your injured hand but this knight grips your hand with gentleness that’s beyond you

“You’re free to go miss” the knight smiles he looked to be a newer knight of Camelot one you didn’t grow up with but he is kind

“Thank you” you nod to the knight as you stumble from your cell gauis is standing at the end of the hallway white as a ghost but pleased to see you freed from your cell

“Y/n!” Gauis smiles opening his arms and you can’t help but fall into them holding onto gauis tightly your sobs wet his shirt shoulder

“Gauis how did you do it? How did you prove me to be innocent?” You cry your hands shaking and body weak from days spent eating little food and dealing with aredians torture.

“It was all Merlin and Arthur.” The old man smiles his arms supporting you as you walk up the stairs from the dungeons to your chambers

“Tell me everything.”you smile at the old man walking side by side down the corridor gauis’s laugh fills the empty hallway

“Not here, let’s get your wounds treated.” His eyes glance at the bruises littering your body, and the bloodied thumb

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You had never been so happy to see your chambers in your life, the comforting smell of herbs and bread the familiar scent of old books and the sound of your boots against the stone floor sounded like music to your ears

There’s no scent of wet earth, or blood aside from the metallic smell emanating from your finger you could almost forget the pain of the cells now that you’re back.

But there’s still very obviously signs of damage done by the witch finders raid broken pots, damaged shelves potions and poisons leaving residue on the floor

But still it is your home. gauis filled a pitcher of water and fills a cup for you and once the water passes your lips you come to realise just how parched you were gulping down glass after glass

gauis busied himself with fixing his work station pulling ointment after ointment and an array of bandages from his kit.

“Sit please” gauis pointed to the table and you sat yourself on the wooden bench gauis had begun to take your makeshift bandage from your wound the gaping hole in your thumb and the blood that spurted from your wound made gauis’s breathing hitch

As he gentle distributed ointment over the wound to fight off growing infections and bandaging up the wound with a fresh bandage Merlin would work on reconstructing your thumb when he gets back

Gauis had felt over your ribs and when he had found another break Merlin would be healing that too for now gauis would sit beside you on the dining room table fresh food would be laid out gauis knew what it was like in the Camelot dungeons and the lack of food

So he didn’t comment on how much you ate when approaching footsteps made your heart beat faster and your eyes flicker to gauis his hand rested on top of yours to reassure you, gauis and Merlin would always reassure you you were safe here you weren’t trapped in the cells of your own home.

When Merlin’s figure found himself in the doorway you could see the relief on his face that you were okay aside from the bruises and bandaged thumb you were alive.

“Oh y/n” Merlin’s soft voice cried and before you knew it you were pushing up off of the table and running into Merlin’s arms

“Hi Merlin” you held him tightly you owed Merlin your life and so being in his hold meant being safe, he would never hurt you.

“God I’m so glad you’re back” his hold tightened and he could feel your magic strong and your connection to eachother he wasn’t cut off from you anymore

“I’m so sorry it took me so long.” Merlin’s guilt ate him alive as he pulled away the black eye and split lip made him see red if he didn’t already kill aredian by accident he would have and he would have made him go through what you did.

Merlin’s eyes flashed yellow and the unbearable ache in your thumb and pulsing pain all over ebbed into nothingness.

You could feel your bones reassembling in your thumb and your broken rib fuse back together the pain and bruises once a bright purple colour would dissipate into a light blue and then would turn into the colour of your skin again.

“Thank you, Merlin.” You squeezed his hand tightly he nodded his head and held you tightly in his arms

Before a smile broke out on his face “do you want to hear how I proved aredian to be a fraud?” Merlin helped you sit beside him and poured another glass of water for you

“Of course!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After Merlin had recounted the entire night from convincing Arthur of everything, that despite your magic you loved him with no enchantment and even if you had enchanted him Merlin asked Arthur point blank if what he told him that day you were cuddled in Arthur’s arms if it was still true, if he still loved you.

Arthur told Merlin he would always love you but he couldn’t trust you now with magic Merlin felt like slapping the prince.

How could you trust Arthur? He’s the prince of Camelot. A kingdom that tried to burn a woman at the stake the first day he arrived and you had grown up here watching that and still you treated its citizens and royalty with no malice?

Merlin understood why you couldn’t trust Arthur he can’t. Not because Arthur was a bad friend but he’s the prince.

No one can help how they are born, but you can put yourself in their shoes and Merlin spent hours convincing Arthur and then more hours enchanting aredian.

From the tincture of belladonna, to the bracelet, to even the frog from aredians throat! Merlin would not fail.

You loved Merlin a lot no one would go as far as he did to save you and you only knew him for a year and a half.

When three knocks sounded on the door Merlin had tried to hide his smile as gauis opened the door to Arthur, in a white shirt freshly showered hair and a Bouquet of wildflowers you felt your heart melt at his kindness

His blue eyes were filled with worry and fear his gaze flicking to gauis and Merlin before he lowered his voice “how are you?”

“Much better now I’m out of that god forsaken cell.” You felt your throat close up at the mention of the cell you spent so long in

Arthur felt guilty about his actions about not saving you or stopping his father. He tried but he could have tried harder

You could see Arthur was drowning in his guilt placing your hand on his shoulder you lead him past gauis and Merlin to your room and sat on your small bed

“You tried your hardest Arthur, it’s not your fault I was thrown in the dungeons.”

“I should have stopped them y/n. I should have broken you out I should have done anything!” Arthur blinked through tears

His hand holding yours in your lap, “Arthur I love you with my whole heart I do not blame you, so please do not blame yourself.”

“I love you and I promise I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you.” Arthur confessed his eyes full of sincere love

You couldn’t help yourself but to kiss him your lips meshing against one another’s felt like home, it felt like love and warmth and like an apology all in one.

It wasn’t until your lungs burnt for air did you pull back. “I should go I don’t want anyone to become suspicious, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Arthur asked tentatively a part of him afraid of rejection.

“Of course” you placed another kiss on his lip before pulling open your chamber door to reveal Merlin and gauis on the other side ears pressed against the wood looking guilty.

“Merlin…gauis what do you think you’re doing?” You chastise at the pair you expected this of Merlin but of gauis? That was surprising

“Gauis i expected better of you” Arthur laughed from where he stood wrapping an arm around your shoulder

[heart2beom]

second lead syndrome

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just tons of fluff

synopsis: taehyun, your neighbor, has been helping you out with beomgyu, the best friend you've been in love with for your entire life. when you finally score a date, albeit taehyuns plan working, you're in crisis.

because you start getting second thoughts.

warning: purposeful wrong tagging for more reach. sorry babes im greedy 😭 though i dont specify pronouns, this is more fem leaning!!

notes: i wrote this in only an hour, not the most quality work but i had to release something for my favorite man's birthday hello????!?! also was listening to this is what falling in love feels like by JVKE on repeat, if that helps with the reading experience. i have no idea if it does. lol as always, reblogging will help the algorithm pick this up so as a content creator, ill love you for it.

you were extremely fidgety as you looked at yourself in the mirror -- this was the fourth outfit you've changed into. you slightly chewed on your bottom lip, furrowing your brows together thinking...none of this felt real, that was one thing you were sure of. preparing to go on a date with beomgyu...it's like dying and actually walking up the stairs of heaven.

the man that was all your firsts yet, felt like a distant, unachievable dream. the man that makes you go to sleep with the biggest smile, and the man that makes you kick your feet, squealing into your pillow even after long graduating high school. he felt just like a celebrity crush. a celebrity crush, someone you'll never ever have the chance to date.

that is, until taehyun moved in next door. you heard rumors from the old ladies at the apartments' lobby that he was a genius, a young einstein if you will, graduating seoul university with top marks.

you don't know what, but something possessed you to go knock at his door's flat, pushing a welcome basket of bread in his arms, saying word for word, "teach me how to make a guy fall in love with me". of course, you managed to squeak out a please for politeness sake.

it was the built up desperation, you guessed looking back. but despite thinking highly of taehyun's mind, you never expected whatever voodoo steps he made up to actually work. sure, it took...what? like, months and twenty bucks every now and then, but it worked.

you turned away from your mirror, looking back at the man occupying your bed, cocking your head to the side.

"what? are you feeling like you're dreaming again?" he asks, mirroring your action. "want me to pinch you?"

you exhale, exhausted. "i need to change."

which taehyun sat up straight to, "again? i already told you, you look pretty."

you roll your eyes to that comment. maybe getting a man to help you prepare for a date wasn't the brightest idea you've had, though, you aren't particularly known for having bright ideas anyway.

"i need an honest opinion, but you just keep on saying oh you look good, oh you look pretty" you mock, deepening your voice to mimic taehyuns'. before he could retaliate, you add "and it's not helping, at all."

it was silent for a while, until he folded his arms,"you want me to give my honest opinion?" he asked. and you nod, frantically at that.

"brutally honest, hit me with the straight, cold facts." you say, preparing yourself by straightening your shoulders.

"well, for one" he starts, to which you take a deep breath at anticipation, "you'll never make it on time for your dream date. that's one fact."

you groan, walking in your stupidly long heels to sit on the edge of your bed, next to taehyun. "okay, well, that's a given at this point. give me something else."

"and you're incredibly, weirdly nervous for a movie date with your best friend. that's another fact." he had put his phone face down next to him, now with his legs crossed, as he looked out for your reaction.

"taehyun." you drawl, beyond annoyed.

"what?", he asked innocent, like he wasn't just taunting you. all you did was give him a death glare, which earned an airy laugh from him.

"alright, i'll be serious now, i promise." he said, scooching up to sit directly by your side now, his legs touching yours with how close he was.

"starting with your face— don't get mad, you asked for this." he warned with a raised finger, which made you nervously gulp. did you really look that bad? you nodded to reassure him to continue anyway—you weren't going to risk going to this date looking bad.

"your eyes; the glitter, though it helps pull your whole look together," he makes a hand gesture, your breath hitched in your throat, as you nodded for him to continue "it's dull when you compare it to your eyes."

you furrow your brows, incredibly puzzled. "what does that mean?"

"your eyes shine more" he said with a cheeky grin, your mouth left agape at his playfullness.

"glitter doesn't shine. you..you suck at flirting." you said hitting his shoulder, letting out an unbelievable scoff.

he fauxes hurt as he rubs his shoulder, "this isn't flirting, i'm being very honest right now!"

you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "mhm"

he shrugs, "i'm not going to continue if you don't believe me."

"okay, okay. i believe you, continue kang."

"alright. so, your brows," you nod. "perfectly trimmed, which..." he leans closer to your face, his thumb grazing your eyebrows. you didn't expect the sudden closeness, so your breath was hitched, stuck right in your throat. "which is good. there's no little hairs in between, or surrounding them."

he moves away after what felt like a whole hour, in reality, was just a few seconds. only beomgyu ever got that close to you — that's your justification for your heart quickening at the proximity. you just got reminded of beomgyu, that was it.

"going well so far." you breathed out, finally being able to talk.

"yeah? told you you don't look bad." you narrowed your eyes. "taehyun. you're not doing this just to say i told you so are you? that's, like, cheating!"

taehyun sighed. "y/n, do you think i'm trying to sabotage you or something? i'm not. i'm not praying on your downfall, i'm being honest."

your previously furrowed eyebrows turned into pleading ones, filled with insecurity. "yeah?"

"yeah." you looked up to see his eyes. they always calmed your anxiousness, you found that the eyes are the doors of the soul saying couldn't have matched anyone more than it did taehyun, you knew everything just by looking at them. and this time, when you looked at them, it was almost overwhelming how they looked back at you with such softness — sincerity.

so overwhelming, your heart picked up at a faster speed, once again. what was up with you?

"okay, now, your lips," and again, his thumb. the one responsible to all of this. it was on your lips, going back and forth on the bottom one, then facing it to his eyes. he looked a bit taken back, kind of shocked.

"what?" you ask with your brows raised. he turns his thumb to you, with an amused smile spread on his face, "there's no red."

you let out an airy laugh, he was way too cute. "well, yeah, it's a no smudge matte lipstick. it's impossible to get off without makeup wipes."

"huh. then, that's good. you can kiss beomgyu without it being all messy." you nod slowly to that. "hey, on that note, refrain from giving me details about the kiss... if it happens."

you're quick to retaliate with a scoff. "it will happen, why won't it happen? it'll happen!"

he shakes his head, which earns an offended expression from you. "i'm just saying, you're the biggest coward i know."

"you're the biggest coward i know." you replied immaturely.

"i'm going to...i'm going to ignore that lame comeback and pretend it wasn't awful." he said, taking a look at his phone. "it's about to be ten...are you feeling less..insecure?"

you look at your heels, then back at him with a smile. "think so, yeah."

when you finally lock your door with keys, taehyun hovering over your back, you turn to him chirply. you're ready, you're ready to go out with beomgyu.

"so." you started, looking up at him, a large smile on your face. "thank you, taehyun. seriously. i know it was kind of weird at first, like you know, spending a lot of time with a stranger but to be completely honest—"

"it wasn't." he interrupted.

"huh?"

"it wasn't weird spending so much time with you."

"oh—well, uh" again, taehyun catches you off guard with his aloofness, making you stutter like an idiot, completely forgetting your monologue.

it didn't help that taehyun somehow was closer than you thought, way closer than the usual arm length. seriously, what was up with the proximity?

when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, it was again, so soft, waiting for you to say something. then, when taehyuns hand found its way tucking a strand behind your ear, you couldn't hear anything anymore. your heartbeat was magnified to your ears, despite seeing that his mouth was moving, saying something, you couldn't focus.

he waved a hand at your face, and you refocused again.

"think you should go now, love of your life's blowing up your phone."

"um—um yeah" you stuttered, waking up from your thoughts. "it's probably beomgyu" you muttered, smiling weakly.

"yeah," he chuckled a little, and god, was it so fucking cute. "thats why i said love of your life."

it was weird how you didn't catch that, you've always been referring to beomgyu as the love of your life, especially with taehyun.

you watched as he unlocked his door knob, looking back at you with his eyes twinkling a little under the dim hallway lights, "don't get nervous, you really do look pretty."

then he was gone, cruelly leaving you with one thought as you looked at the texts from the contact name, 'love of my life'.

you weren't ready. you weren't ready to go out with beomgyu. at all.

ending a/n: soooo how we feeling? cute? cute? readers so starstruck by taehyuns eyes and im just like..yup, same. me. this was originally apart of a very long fic i was working on, but that was scrapped, so..lol have this cute lil thing

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Episode ten - paper

Jack Dawkins x fem reader.

Jack's eyes opened slowly, the room around him was dark. He was on the ground and pain clamped at his chest.

"What's going on?" He asks into the darkness. Footsteps tapping against the damp stone floor.

"Oh weren't sure if you'd wake up, you're losing a lot of blood. My lad hasn't quite learnt how to stab and not kill just yet." The voice felt familiar to Jack.

"Bill?" He says. The man laughs. The rope around Jack's wrist tugs and begins to lift him until jack's feet barely touch the floor.

"No, no my brother is well and truly dead, that Oliver Twist really got him good. Still, little toff is in prison himself now. Sweet justice." He laughed again.

"What?" Jack was finding it hard to keep up.

"Oh, I'm just here getting a little payback. You're collateral damage as they say." He laughed again. Jack felt him come too close, the stink of his breath assaulting his nostrils.

"I never did anything to Bill or you!" Jack strains against the pain from his knife wound.

"Oh I ain't got problems with you, but you dying sure as hell will hurt the people I hate." The man laughed again, slamming his fist into Jack's stomach.

*_*_*_*

"lady y/n, what on earth do you think you are doing?" Sneed questions entering your room.

"I have to help Fagin find Jack" you say, pulling your dressing gown on over your nightdress.

"Find Jack, he only just got back, what happened to him?"

"He was kidnapped, last night. It looks like he was hurt. We have to find him." You say taking your sister's arm.

"And you were just going to let her run off? Y/n has just had heart surgery!" He asked Belle. She tilted her head in a shrug.

"Do you think we could stop her?" She shot back at him.

"At least put on some clothing. If you insist on charging around Port Victory your corset will help keep you together." Sneed sighed. You held his hand.

"thank you, thank you Rainsford."

Belle helps you into a simple white cotton dress, forgoing the hooped crinolines. The corset felt foreign after being in bed for so long. Though you had to admit it was making your chest feel a little easier. You don't bother to put up your hair, choosing instead to simply tie back the front.

When ready you make your way down to the morgue where Fagin waited for you. Aputi, Flashbang, Tim and Red are with him.

"Do we know anything yet?" You ask.

Fagin shakes his head.

"We've heard nothing. Not a dot." He admits.

"That isn't true." You spin heating your father's voice behind you.

"Father?" You take his outstretched hand.

"It appears this is all my fault." He says, leaving a folded slip of paper in the air. You snatch the paper from his hand.

"Governor Fox, you may recall Lord Branwell. You have debt with him and I have come to collect. Arthur Sikes." You read aloud.

"Sikes?" Fagin turns white, "Oh that family is like a bad smell, they always come back."

"Father what did you do?"

Edmund sighs, "Many years ago during my military days I had command of Lord Branwell's son. A fine chap really if not a little wild. Branwell always blamed me for his death"

You put your hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright father, we will deal with this. Surely he will want money and we have plenty." You say.

"No, if I know the Sikes this isn't about money."

*_*_*_*

Jack pulls against the rope holding him up. His fingertips were already beginning to turn blue.

"If killing me is the point why not just do it?" He coughs out.

"Well no need to be boring. We all like to have a little fun in our work. Plus seeing old Fagin's face when he sees your mutilated body will be fun." Arthur bit into an apple as he talked.

"So it is a little about him then?" Jack says between heavy breaths.

Arthur kicks his foot, knocking the tied rope. It uncurls and skids until Jack hits the floor, face first. Blood quickly starts dripping from his forehead. Joining the wounds that now littered his body. Stomping across the room Arthur grabbed Jack's shirt and shoved him onto his back. Crouching over him.

"You know, it isn't really you that I want, I just know having you will bring one Fox's kids here. Then he'll learn what it is to lose a son."

"Fox doesn't have a son." Jack says.

"a daughter then. I hear one of them is quite taken with you." He laughs again. "now how about we choose something to send to them? A finger? The whole hand? And ear? A foot? Hmm? What about your baby maker?" He laughs again, showing his rotten teeth and twirling a knife between his fingers.

"No, please" Jack began to beg.

"a toe then, we'll start small." Arthur pulled Jack's shoe from his foot, sliding the blade between his toes.

"No."

A door opened somewhere behind Jack and a voice called to Arthur. He grabbed Jack's face around the jaw.

"I guess this will have to wait. See you soon, Jacky boy." He shoved Jack's face before rushing away.

"What is it?" He growls at the smaller man.

"the whole town is looking for him. We're done for."

*_*_*_*

"Where has she gone?" Edmund bellowed through the hospital.

"We don't know. She was looking at the paper and then she just took off!" One of the recoats explained.

You had slipped from the hospital and we're making your way through the streets of the town. The dirt scratching against your bare feet. Your sister knew very much about the body, Jack was impressively good at surgery but you, you knew about paper. Seemingly dull to many but upon arriving in Port Victory you had familiarised yourself with each type of paper available to you. Only one was made within the town limits. A basic sheet, thicker than that shipped from England. It had little wooden flecks throughout it, picked up from the sawdust that littered the factory floor. This had to be where they were keeping Jack and you knew exactly where to go.

The cut on your chest pulled at your skin as you walked. You had to ignore it and find him. If you told anyone else your theory they would send an army to the door and that ran the risk of Jack being killed.

You hear a bell being rung and know they have discovered your absence, leaving you little time.

The factory was not a large one, and was connected to a boarding house. You knew it would be stupid to walk in through the front door. Looking around you see a window on the upper floor. You climb the wooden steps on the boarding to balcony and climb onto the railings. You slip, catching your dress underfoot. Grumbling you unclasp it and let the garment fall to the ground, leaving you in just your bloomers, corset and short chemise. Able to move more freely you climb back up and throw yourself across to the small ledge under the window. The bump catches your breath and you're sure you feel something catch below your corset. You pull yourself up and slip into the window, there is an old wooden platform that you stand on. It is filled with old boxes. You hide behind them, doing your best to move quietly. You see Jack lying in the ground and your heat breaks.

A fast sweep of the room tells you he is alone so you slowly make your way down the steps and across the floor.

"Jack?" You touch his face, then check his body. The wound on his chest looked angry.

"Jack, Jack come on you have to wake up." You whisper to him, tapping his face to rouse him. When his eyes finally open he looks up at you. Fear crossed his eyes.

"No, Y/n you shouldn't be here! You have to go. Now!"

You ignore him and u tie his hands.

"can you stand?" You ask. He nods and the two of get up.

"Wait, y/n you have blood on you." He says pressing his hand to your chest.

"Perhaps it's yours." You say, once again ignoring the sting of pain below the corset, "come on we have to go quickly." You pull his arm around your shoulders and start to direct him towards the doors.

"This was silly, you should not have come here." Jack chastised you.

"No she definitely should not have." Arthur's foot kicks into the back of your knees sending both you and Jack to the ground. He drags you backwards by your ankles. No matter how you claw at the floor you cannot stop him. Jack struggles to move as two other men grab at him.

"Here you go my Lord. Just in time for you to watch it." Arthur grabs you by the hair and yanks you back. You meet eyes with a pompously large man who laughs, pouring a glass of wine.

Episode eleven

@fandomfan-102 @darasloves @afalls14universe

[gothic-thoughts]

Lost and Found

(Happy Thanksgiving Yall)

Kyoujurou Rengoku x Black Fem Reader Angst (fluff)

RoyalAU, Princess!Reader, FriendstoLoversAU

CW: frostbite, implied parent death, Shinjurou is emperor, childhood friends

Word Count: 1057 (give or take)

My weak legs twitch, sending a spike of pain up my spine. I have to move, or I'll freeze to death. The faint sound of galloping draws near, now with the metal clanking to the rhythm of the horse's steps. Tears stream down my face as I try to scream for help only to have a small whimper rip from my tired and parched throat. The loud trotting slows to a stop no more than 10 feet away before something heavy drops to the gravel and quickly crunches toward me.

"My lady!" He crouches next to me and pulls my freezing body against his chest, "What's happened to you? Were you--?"

My tiara slips from my head and clangs against the pebbles of the road. Through my blurry vision, I watch as his worried gaze snaps to the headdress then back at my reddened face, horror consuming his eyes.

"A...a princess?" He whispered, "Who's done this to you?! Never mind; let's get you to safety. You'll be safe at the palace, you have my word."

Palace? He settles his grip behind my back and lifts my thighs, carrying me back to his horse. He sat on its back and had me in front and facing him to pull my face, body, and arms into his jacket. Feeling his body heat, I pass out against his chest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I jolt awake and sit up at the sound of crackling and shuffling in my room. I quickly sit up to see a young woman putting wood into the furnace across from the bed I was on. It was a massive red and dark brown canopy, the silky sheets sliding underneath me as my body settled to the mattress. 

"Aw, I'm sorry, miss. The fire was dying down." She soothed, "Have to keep you warm, don't we?"

"Right...where am I?"

"You're in the Hashira Palace; I'm your chambermaid, Sumika. I got you all cleaned up and back to your old self. You had us all worried; you were asleep for a while."

"What? But I passed out no more than a few hours ago."

"That was yesterday, Miss. You've been asleep for around 13 hours; it's seven o'clock now."

"Thirteen!? And I'm just now waking up?!"

"Yes, Miss. Would you like to speak with Emperor Shinjuro?"

"Yes, yes, please! It's been a while, and I need a familiar face."

"Well, I'll be right back with your clothes."

She puts down the fire poker and dusts her hands off before she disappears into the closet. When the wooden door opened again, Sumika walked out cradling a blue lace-lined dress. I step out of the bed and happily slip on the silky azure fabric, the skinny straps hugging into my shoulders which put the dress in a position to show just a little bit of cleavage.

Sumika led me out of the room and down the candlelit corridor to another room and knocked loudly. Once the king allows me inside she bows and leaves.

"Come in!" The Emperor's voice yelled.

"Princess (Y/n)'s awake and dressed Your Highness," Sumika says, opening the door enough to let me in, "There you go."

"Thank you."

"Emperor Shinjuro." I bow, "Thank you so much for--"

"Nonsense."

"Excuse me?"

"You're the daughter of my best friend; ‘Shinjuro’ is just fine, (Y/n)."

"But we've only met a couple--"

"I owe your father my life; the very least I could do is take care of his daughter in his....absence."

"Absence?" I scoff, laughing nervously, "Thank you, Shinjuro for your concern, but I'm confused."

He sighs, "What do you remember?"

"Nothing much." I say, voice breaking, "I was upstairs in my room when I heard guards rushing past my door. I thought nothing of it until my chambermaid ran into my room and told me marauders were attacking the palace."

"Hmm..."

"I don't even know she escaped..." my voice breaks, my lungs heaving for breath, "She stayed back to barricade the door in case someone heard me escaping from the corridor."

"Well...while you were resting, I had my guards investigate the palace and it seems the fire was started in your throne room."

"No...no, I'm sure it had to be the sitting room." Tears roll down my face faster than I can wipe, "That's where our furnace is, Shinjuro. It couldn't be the throne room because how....h-how would the fire start?"

"My knights found evidence of a Molotov cocktail there, (Y/n). I...I don't know how else to...."

Before I can open my mouth to speak, two loud and heavy knocks thunder from the wooden door shortly before it swings open. A well-built man in a white and flame-patterned haori rushes past me and stands before the Emperor's desk. The man turns to me for a quick bow.

"My apologies, but I must..." He blinks and his jaw drops, "(Y/n)?"

My tears stopped flowing with confusion, allowing me to wipe the excess on my cheeks as he happily stepped closer.

“How do you know me?”

“It’s me, Kyojuro!”

"Kyojuro...?”

He nods happily, leaning in to show off his features a little better. I raise an eyebrow at him, examining his features from his fiery hair and the fiery gradient in his irises. I note his round jawline and wide eyes and my eyebrows finally raise in realization.

“Ren!”

"Yes!"

We pull each other into a strong embrace as flashbacks of the times we played hide-and-seek in my garden and caused mischief around his palace flooded my mind. I smile into his chest and squeeze harder, feeling his hands sink into me before we pull away, looking at each other lovingly.

“You got...bigger." He smiles longingly, "N-not like...I meant, like 'older'. Older-bigger.”

“Well, you certainly got bigger. I'm surprised you didn't hit your head on the doorframe when you walked in."

He chuckles, "I mean it has been 11 years. Last we saw each other, I believe I was convincing you to eat worms."

"Tried convincing me."

"Heh, yes of course."

"And maybe I would've fallen for it if they weren't covered in dirt."

"Perhaps that may have been a factor."

"So, after being my nutritionist, you became a knight?"

"During the war, Father was away and I was in charge so I trained as much as I could and now I'm the Head of the royal fleet."

“Impressive. All I did was learn how to ride a horse, play violin, and archery. My...mother taught me."

My smile fades, and he does the same before he suddenly knelt and bowed his head to me.

"Ren?"

"My apologies. In my haste, I never properly showed empathy for your loss. My deepest condolences, princess."

I smile sadly, lifting his chin, "If it's all the same to you, Ren, I prefer (Y/n)."

He stands up and adjusts his shirt when I suddenly hug him again, my heart pounding as I bury my face into his neck. I feel him sigh as he holds me close and rubs my back.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

I hum, melting into his touch. "I missed you." A happier tear slipped from my eye.

"I've missed you more."

"My apologies for breaking up your moment...

  We quickly withdrew from our embrace and straightened up to give the emperor, who was sitting back down, our undivided attention. He chuckles lightly.

"Are you hungry, (Y/n)?"

"Oh yes, I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"I'm sure. Kyoujuro?"

"Right!" Ren smiles, "I'll show you to the kitchen, Shinobu can make you something while we catch up."

"I never thought you of all people would gain charm and maturity in adulthood."

"Oh please, I've always had charm." He laughs, "After you then."

[justanothervigalanty]

city of Bain au

I hope we all know the city of bain shit like how flash did some time forse stuff and Thomas Wayne was Batman bla bla bla this is basically Bruce/Batman and y/n / bat woman not knowing what to name there unborn son. (The gif… I thought it was funny because Bruce is about to become a dad and the city of Bain is about his dad…yeah it sounded funny in my head)

(before flash fucked up time)

“Flash needs help I’m heding out (you grab your suit) no you stay not in this condition” Bruce said placing his hand on your stomach and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.”well that’s not happening” you said to yourself putting on your bat woman suit. “Lady y/n I do think you should stay behind you need to take it easy.” You heard Alfred say “Not you too! I am 4 months pregnant it’s not like I’m dying, I’ll be fine” you left soon after on your motorcycle. And you arrived just in time to kick some criminal ass. “God i thought I told you to stay out!?” Batman said attacking a guy who was about to sneak up on you from behind. “Bat woman , always a pleasure to see you darling.” Said green lantern as he took out the last of the criminals. Batman glared at him “you know full well she’s pregnant with my son hall” bat man pushing him to the wall. “Ho yeah iras asked is you need anything?” Flash said walking over to you “baby names!” Batman butted in “no we don’t because I’m calling him Grayson!” You said very confident “there’s no way I’m letting my son be named after your favourite circus act!” Batman added losing his deeper voice “come on bats you know the saying happy wife happy- where did flash go?” Aquaman said arm around Bruce’s shoulders. And then you felt your husband leaving, memories changing and you woke up to a knock at your bedroom door.

“Y/n are you up it’s almost 12?” you herd him say. Thomas Wayne. He had taken you in after your parents died a week after he lost his son, your best friend. Bruce. “Yea I’m up I’m up” you said as he opened the door. “Hay kid.” Thomas said siting next to you on your bed “I have that dream again! The man kissing my forehead and the two kids!”you said hand on your forehead. “Did you get any more details about them?” Thomas said hand on your shoulder “umm the man had black hair and gray blue eyes and the two kids are boys umm I think on was 4 and the other 9? Oh yeah the man called the 9 year old, dick.” You said trying to remember. “So the boys name is Richard? Ha like the flying Grayson one year old Richard?” He laughed standing up. “Well that’s weird I always thought I’d name my son Tommy. Thomas if you’re being formal.” You said still sat down. “Dang kid you are getting me emotional!” He said ruffling your hair. “Omg am I getting the Batman emotional?!” You said sarcastically “har har very funny (goes to door) and clean your god dam room!” He said from the hall. “Love you to Tom!” You shouted

(After flash fixes his shit to normal. Yay.)

in the bat cave you’re walking around still in pj’s wells Bruce and Barry talk “you know I still remember all of that life! The birthdays my childhood room everything!” Flash said as you sat by Bruce “it’s like a curse.” Bruce said “or a blessing you’re lucky you got to see your mother again. And what did I go by again?” You asked "oh umm I think it was the soldier” just then something klicked in Barry’s head. He reached for his pocket and pulled out a note and handed it to Bruce. He took off his cap hood and you could see the tears forming in his eyes. “There’s a ps for you” Bruce said handing you the letter “it’s from dad.” The note said “hay little soldier, I’m sorry I won’t be there to meet my grandson so just tell him that I love him for me. Because if my death means that my son and you get to be happy together with your kids then it’s a small price to pay. Stay strong soldier your son’s and my son need you to be.” You placed down the note and walked over to Barry and hugged him “thank you”. “For what?” He asked hugging you back. “The perfect name.” You said letting go holding a hand to your stomach “Thomas. (Your father’s name) . Wayne.” Bruce came over to you “umm babe?” He said “yeah Bruce are you ok?” You asked as he handed you the note. “It says boys and kids…” “…I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WANTED ONE KID!” you asked re reading the note “oh yeah in the other word you had dreams off this world but it wasn’t only bruce, you and the baby there was another kid. Thomas was 4 and the other was around nine and you both called him dick” Barry said a bit concerned “hell yeah I do name my kid after the flying Grayson’s! Take that Bruce!” You said more excited . But Bruce was just wondering how is Thomas going to be 4 but dick 9 you don’t have another kid this was your first pregnancy after all and the flying Grayson baby Richard’s mom and dad weren’t in any danger. Right?

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2023 Round-Up Post | Week 5

As always, here are all the works posted in the past week in LCDrarry, so you can catch up on and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!

PPS: Please share far and wide! ;)

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Art

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To Infinity With You

Prompt: “SK8 the Infinity”, 2021, TV Series Artist: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Summary: Just a couple of sk8er bois in love.

View it now on AO3.

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Fic & Art

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The Flame Between Us

Prompt: “Lady Chatterley’s Lover”, 2022, Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre Author: Anonymous Artist: Anonymous Word Count: 33,060 words Art Medium: Water colours Rating: Explicit Warnings: marriage of convenience, open marriage, consensual infidelity, D/s undertones, terminal illness, blood curse, implied mpreg, canonical character death, angst with a happy ending

Summary: The rumoured engagement of one Mister Draco Lucius Malfoy and Lady Astoria Sofia Greengrass has been the talk of Wizarding Society. My dear reader, this author can confirm that the rumours are true.

Read and view it now on AO3.

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This Life Now

Prompt: "Sweet Home Alabama", 2002, Andy Tennant Author: Anonymous Artist: Anonymous Word Count: 38,295 words Art Medium: Digital Rating: Mature Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Divorce, Alcohol, Minor Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter & OMC Friendship, Draco is involved with/engaged to Blaise while separated from but still legally married to Harry

Summary: This close up, Draco can see the differences that have occurred over the years. Harry's hair is longer, although it's as unruly as ever; his forearms are well-muscled and decorated with ink; and there are small lines by his eyes that look like they would crinkle if he were smiling. Which, at this moment, he most definitely is not. He looks like he's worn the same clothes for three days and just rolled out of bed, yet Harry's so unfairly gorgeous it makes Draco's heart ache. "What do you want, Draco?" Harry asks, his voice resigned. The question snaps Draco out of his reverie. "A divorce," he proclaims as he opens his bag.

Read and view it now on AO3.

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Fic

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The Decision

Prompt: “Fleabag”, 2019, TV Series Author: Anonymous Word Count: 5,369 words Rating: Mature Warnings: transphobic slur but don't worry she gets revenge, miscarriage, general horrible person

Summary: Love is awful. Draco Malfoy is dreading helping Pansy Parkinson plan her wedding. That's something horrible people dread, and perhaps that makes her a horrible person. She's determined to behave, until old connections and an increasingly surreal and intolerable dinner party get the better of her.

Read it now on AO3.

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The Dying of the Light

Prompt: “Dead Like Me”, 2003, TV Series Author: Anonymous Word Count: 20,078 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Death themes, Implied Infidelity (not between Harry/Draco), Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: “Life sucks, and then you die… And then it still sucks.” – Georgia Lass, Dead Like Me. The biggest thank you to our fabulous Mods for LCDrarry 2023! This community has been an absolute joy to be a part of and I couldn’t recommend it enough to others. And to my beta (R) who (once again) aided my whale call for assistance in the very final stages of submission. This fic would be a mess without you. You're the absolute best. x

Summary: Everyone dies. That’s just the way it is. And then there are the unfortunate few who get promoted.

Read it now on AO3.

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Palm Springs

Prompt: "Palm Springs", 2020, Max Barbakow Author: Anonymous Word Count: 20,137 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Time Loop, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Harry collapsed into the chair next to him. “What is happening?” “One of those infinite time loop situations.” “What?!” “You know. Yesterday is today. Today is today, tomorrow is today.” “But how do I stop it? I don’t want tomorrow to be today. I want tomorrow to be tomorrow!” “Yeah, that’s understandable.” Malfoy said calmly. “Do you like tacos?”

Read it now on AO3.

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Double Trouble

Prompt: "Alias", 2001-2006, TV Series Author: Anonymous Word Count: 57,440 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: possible tw for torture (non-graphic incarcerous)

Summary: Four years after the War, Draco is stuck in a dead-end job, paper-pushing his life away. Until one day, after a security breach in the Ministry, he receives an offer he can’t refuse. Thrown back into a world he thought he’d left behind, Draco must wrestle with his Death Eater past as well as his inconvenient — and forbidden — feelings for an annoyingly level-headed Harry Potter. Will he manage to come out unscathed like he has most of his life, or will it all come crashing down?

Read it now on AO3.

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Creator reveals are on 15 June.

[senor-plume]

Percolating

Lightning bolt crazed Too much coffee While my baby is At the hospital Leaving me in Control Of the percolator As her Granddad lays Dying on a cold bed In a November death scene As the black and white Images Flicker past his eyes And the orange juice carton Sits untouched On the table next to his bed

Alone here With not even a cat To keep me company I down the crushed beans In my favorite mug

All the while Our guitar stands Up against the wall Waiting for the buzz To come back Plugged in the outlet To create some Tasty Rock tunes On this freezing winter evening

So I down my Third cup Of the hour And boy do I ever feel it… Strong and black With two spoonfuls Of crazy sugar Melted in the liquid For my quiet enjoyment

She has been gone For just an hour or so now And I miss her Voice and whispers Neck and thighs Fingers and eyes Bangs and ears

So I crush out this Pall Mall cigarette Into the silver ashtray Leaving the smoke To rise to the ceiling Against the wishes Of my landlords And charcoal lungs

I am all jitters I am certainly alive I am dancing upon my chair I am tongue ready And Missing her hard now And hoping for a cheerful woman to Come through my door With good news and a Kiss on my bare shoulder As the heat vent spouts out Warmth On this chilly night When the coffee was all I had And my baby Was away Holding another mans hand And keeping the tears At bay While the smell of Salisbury meat Wafts through the hospital Making her slightly Nauseas and sad

I rise from this Antique desk To make another pot And I will hold off On cranking it up Now …I'll save it Until my dear woman Is back and Possibly groggy And in great need Of a jumpstart After a long weary day With tissues Glued to her hands And a runny nose From great sorrow And a case of the Old blues

My mug is empty now

My heart is in love And the coffee Was perfection While I sit waiting For my lady To come home Once again Where I will greet her With a smile And a cup of the Good stuff When she walks through My door In just an hour or so

[herequeershakespeare]

There was no blinding white light, nor immediate pits of hell. It's not what the missionaries taught her would be waiting for her, but it still feels like the afterlife, even before she gets there.

"I was afraid I wouldn't get you in time." The voice of a woman speaks over her, letting it wash over her dizzy head. She looks at the woman blinking, bringing the pale figure into focus.

"Get me in time?"

"You were on your way to judgement."

"Am I dead?"

"Tragically so." The lady kneels down beside her, "It was an accident, I'm afraid. You weren't meant to die."

Glimpses of her life and last moments start to come into view, before the cold hands of the lady rests upon her shoulder, "No need to dwell on that grief and negativity. I can spare that for you, Mare."

Mare. She blinks, thinking about the people who used to call her that instead of Mary or Mary-Anne, but it's hazy.

"Your memories are being held right now. You'll remember them in your own time." The lady says, "A side effect of death, I suppose."

Mare shifts the focus from herself to the entity, "Who are you?"

"I am Death. More specifically, the Mother of the Dying. It's my job to collect souls."

"You killed me."

"Alas, I work mostly through my children these days. They collect souls from their mortal bodies. I fix mistakes like this one."

"Like me dying?" Mare asks.

Death nods, "Like you dying."

Mare shifts her focus from Death to the open sea, overcast by dark grey clouds.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

"You've been here before, you know." Death tells her, "I pulled this from your memories. It was the calmest you'd ever felt."

Memories of this moment, it's serenity, laps at her feet. The open beach at twilight, back on some vacation. Nobody bothered her here. It was just her and the infinite.

"I remember." Mare murmurs, "This wasn't that long ago."

"Your memories will come back soon enough. Dying takes them to judge you."

"So the missionaries were right." Mare chuckles, "Good thing I listened to them."

"If someone believes it it, it's real." Death says, "But, that is besides the point. You cannot stay here forever."

"I can go back home?" Pictures of a suburban house and a suburban family float into view. Where Mare grew up, who Mare lived with, and the crushing feeling of perfectionism clings to her.

"I'm afraid not." Death says, "Once you die for good, you cannot return to your body. You've already been out to rest out in your world."

"My world?" More glimpses of everything Mare knew about the world around them flash before Death continues, "When something like this happens, we place you into a world similar to your own, but for some reason never included you. So Mary-Anne Fawcett never lived, nor did the people who created her."

Mary's parents and little brother flash into focus like the family photos they used to take. She could almost see how they'd mourn her, similarly to how they mourned her grandmother years back.

"But, this'll allow you to live a new life and regain the old memories while making new ones."

"I can't support myself. I was living at home and going to community college. I wasn't ready to face the world."

"But this world is for you." Death tells her, "Anything you want, anything you desire. The world shall never work against you, if you do not work against it."

"I wanted to be loved." Mare blurts out, "Excessively, unconditionally, like in those romance novels."

Death chuckles, "Then that is what Life shall offer you."

And in a flash, Mare awakes in her bed.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“In when a bus”)

A kimo sequence

               1

I’m grow i’ th’ strike flies. When my chief feare, because I can say so, and dark. In when a bus.

               2

Homeward; so the sleeps in bullet’s guests: And nostril, dark: quickness. Belovëd, dost though a windows.

               3

If those Wise, turn’d you’ll ne’er the three I leave touch. She is Madeline, said the dandelions all.

               4

When you meet to beaten got be—Adieu! With lie. And smooth-sculptur’d to wood, and ever he sea.

               5

Wearied Annie, bide! Seas thou would we delights and was o’ crammed, ah woe after the words some hame.

               6

Cologne. What cross me, I were nothing throne. Suns that in Ohio when I put, her head—mine eyes?

               7

Is ever still, you must be, and did. Last she sport, foul, as they are blue sorrow-day; why dost dead.

               8

Through, but men with she, now by hard problem scrunch, can I forgot you: zooks, into that I was gone.

               9

Then hie, and see! And life’s one cool’d by high Olympus had head, every glen at window-panes; St.

               10

I dreamlight, and by mystering on the tan on he cruel love Gregory! And Death they were sigh.

               11

Of all her good at the sand, for so night from me, my old grape bunch of all the clove. All stop with #3.

               12

Yesterday intense when on the less fell to Povertrail’d by thy love! ’ The Lady of Shalott.

               13

Whilst yet, a gang water fail’d it had to sinking my fires and back and he wet leap. Camelot.

               14

Into the small the visions I aim at. To your body’s turn that her pretentious, it seethes.

               15

Thoughts to—all accordion. Mine ere his his. For hast chief feare, enamoured mine ranged, lie down.

               16

Did no such a tomb. Do it is Day. A sweet loosely fled. Like tiles follow. A watercresses.

               17

Unto the children to them, the heart’s core whatever he mazy web she love the flowers. Ways!

               18

It was for I am host, having, in the aged crooked the other’s they all. What’s some back.

               19

And place was ’ware, never finger’d into the full,—while he scarce hast to the iron portal drear!

               20

I saw the raptured from sprays of my love forks. Beneath and mimic as your wish be Strings, lads!

               21

St. Exactly fold: A case were without your hear of monk’s-thing—the Sun did sometime and esteem.

               22

She conversation tiptoe, sair against Love and yet they met with miseries, nane. Of more true!

               23

Nay, a horses, while sides, to prayer a- going the full porch, with being perfecit opus!

               24

You dab my lovèd, but is at Camelot. Bed. Never Though bubbling eyes to temple, in my eye.

               25

Flower train cry, Speak to pay for where wanted, gold? And bright. From a fever changes, selfishness.

               26

Stars, frankincense ravish’d hard in the bent warehouse perfumes the flashing rounds, his heard in our pride!

               27

The pear your needed all him the foamingle, gold love me like a man no thirty years wounded.

               28

The powers I had waken me. A goat strays, and orient Beauty your tattoos in contend.

               29

Nay, profess our eyes. As if we sung to run off without there: sometimes began to Camelot.

               30

Come up to help! Dying. Tumultuous talk though to the wore a bit of a Good old romance.

               31

Happy to Allah, which and between through came a-pilferer. False with a glass-floor, weak voice sad?

               32

When he can be idle glint of all. Lang, languid arm where mine range of admire; fair creature it!

               33

Birds, the cruel many-tower, never knees. Still, still; for eyes the contact, I fill you to do loud.

               34

One hostess, I am tire, no one I ate? I want in Autumn will be their or the black.

               35

Of their panted with a sighs most frail of pride a doubt, for escape lowering live with listle.

               36

Lovers, great Voice again. They must have to know my own mistake, pregnant of cloud and go, and berth.

               37

It show’rs were form, and then she lips I would been, smoke … no, it’s wrong. Love’s an old, be safe and mailen!

               38

Or Branches makes the crickets celebrate her nimble soul, going strays are to hand. Break, now, thought!

               39

Lies; I chirped, children do in the jasmine o’ my own life, I would riot: then he die! Spread.

               40

Let me in Siberia a godly linger? And as thou dost looks naughter seated shouldst not?

               41

And by the Nereids from her, Flock., Written a rowing off with four dreamed down to the float, below.

               42

Noise in all hap somehow evasive, thou my only link’d. Tempts and remember sleep ere I touch.

               43

And four garages from silken, they take minstrel’s grant grots and all makes to scold me. On a rage!

               44

I am becoming me, as spitting go the rode between he die! The been, once seeming, height.

               45

The nick, like a stars mixed to cost your guide and cauld, Gregory. Sticks, real woe, for slight be, to him.

               46

What, destitution madness of the or Girle, they crown! Sometimes not eternal love, in love.

               47

I dreamed, and when your with one in the women to Camelot. And no more this vertical line.

               48

Even the sear, why! By garden a roses nobody, when mid their art; then his light bring flood.

               49

Within and down the faint John, beast and her for no, for the sweet dreams. Under the Fuel of thy Throne.

               50

But waiting trumpets rose Left to hast though when to unperplex’d delves, an illusion, poor, we wise.

               51

The door being housetop loneline. Color, visible echo, and guest given yours, Give.

               52

Within. Strikes in my woman one came thought I wondering you said her pass’d him, as twas the cob.

               53

I grew from the beats at very sun will? And Trusty—head wounds that no more transfix the spring.

               54

Who needed night and Subject, beast and help each on that naïve light, they heart. Devised loud I heart.

               55

But just thou of the melon paringly version indeed! By you alone worthy tear, flashes.

               56

But if she doom is the Dryads art. His sweet great linen, she pain when you the sanctifie your cheek that.

               57

That Gracia in Battle: when into sharp saving Lord Gregory! Thy Throne one, to youth, ere thee.

               58

No one; she leaneth one company! I too much tremble style blood, the soul doth horrid shiver.

               59

And I not by the day at Venus’ temple sea. His desire; by whom myself bright, below.

               60

When on the beat, and large unhail’d with something the she sea? I’m not preaching heart, as if it went.

               61

Summer looked the girl’s morning Pyes, dreams. And spatted and did. Why in the syntax of lovely eyes?

               62

He heart, unless words the godly light brink? Eye—and when Madeline’s corpse lanterns, his many?

               63

Then we shall beauteous Lillies soothing to have not Thou affrayed by they fled. Many yearning line.

               64

And sair substancy. ’ Thing;—a dove-like helmet on, engineer bodies, Peris, sine that others?

               65

Trust, ere her—which in the glen; in love. I dare now, where be, that, in generall thy true for me.

               66

Seeming face they who laid o’ the prest, the reasons, weak in her right at grasses flowers! Cologne.

               67

Willowy hills a baskets brighter is in love of fire it see: no leisure. Upon her stars.

               68

Something baskets say,—who come a serpent and longdrawn from ever dreamed on the others I’ve been.

               69

A lass tips waited time, fresh-cut hair and when to the was he sea. But one free to placed, along.

               70

Too farther Angela give barr’d of all in the should rathers I have been the dreams obey: stay!

               71

Will be hame. Pick to their bright and ye sal gae and the man and gold comming, in her father starved.

               72

For me than everywhere was he same you growest; nor blush. Gaily o’er the air, wi’ a to-do!

               73

So if, my Prayer, unleafed his palaces can drink. Becoming in my love; for some back.

               74

Whole lily this steal on her winding wither Lips, and Fays, her elfin blossoms your eyes. Best too?

               75

So longing; make you do like, and crown or yet Gibson demon’s eyes we are for that evening Time.

               76

I saw it fair, as this: that we goes belong. Day for mermaid on her populous straight appal!

               77

Though is famish’d, or seek my ain. By who fry cold dame started the cannons rattle: when on horse!

               78

The chrism is in the dead. Addressed idle belly, and I sighed deepest in a serpents again.

               79

What is and chicken, church know breath’s and kin. But rolls a flaggon by his becomes this arrow old.

[dragoninahumancostume]

Ugh my grandma is uspet at me for leaving the heater on in my room again

"There could be a power outage and then it comes back on too strongly and it causes a fire. A kid died because of that."

I fucking know, okay? I fucking know. I know damn well that I shouldn't leave the heater on, but fucking guess what? I CAN'T TURN IT OFF. to prevent all that to happen I'd need to unplug it which is hard because I have to kneel down and stretch my arms and stuff, which easy right? But do I really fucking want to do that shit everyday? And even if I'd just turn it off when I go to sleep, I really wish she could just understand that I can't do it without me having to explain why. Listen lady I am easily startled and I am very focused on external noises. A step? A voice? A breathing a lil too loud? A light on? Gotcha, "you can't sleep, there are monsters nearby" minecraft mode ON. My bed creaks when I move so I need a distraction ig, I don't actually know why but the creaks don't let me chill at might if there's silence totally. I simply cannot sleep without sound (I mean, I probably can, I just can't get comfortable before sleep so it's gonna take me a while to calm down to be able to sleep)

And what's better than that? I've been afraid of death since AT LEAST I was 8 years old. Half my life I've been scared of dying except for that one year when I was considering offing myself but that's besides the point. It's terrifying. There are nights where i start to rapidly breathe or holding my breath simply because the thought of what dying would feel like crosses my mind, there are nights when I end up crying. I'm scared enough as it is, please don't worsen it, I can do that myself thank you very much.

Oh, and what's even BETTER than that? She gets uspet when she's cold and I'm not wearing enough clothes. I told her I was too hot (temperature) so I had to take off my hoodie and she was like "well then wear something lighter like a long sleeve shirt" so I told her it's too tight and she just "*SIGH*". WHAT THE FUCK MA'AM. It really makes me uncomfortable if clothes are a bit too tight. I get stressed out, overwhelmed, if it gets worse I'll just start to try and rip it off of my body and that sometimes involves it getting tighter around the neck which I'd rather not happen. I wanna live, and I wanna feel comfortable in my clothes. I use oversized shit because it's comfy, I avoid right sleeves because it's horrible for me. It's not hard to understand, even if I just said "it's too tight" that should still be understandable. But it wasn't. She acted like I was just making up excuses, like she always acts when I try to explain why I don't listen to her "suggestions"

I'm just sick of her empathy and trying to make me feel bad to get me to do things

[lilydoeswrite]

THE MERCILESS SIREN | CHAPTER FIVE

wattpad link previous chapter series masterlist next chapter

summary: It is the 66th Hunger Games when Oceana Fontaine is reaped as tribute, and at just thirteen years old, the odds are certainly not in her favour. As much as it is seen as an honour for Oceana to represent her district in the games, it is also practically a death sentence. But Oceana knows she needs to go home and is determined to, no matter how low her chances are and with the help of her mentors, she might just do that. But if she is to win, she will have to learn where her biggest strengths start to turn into her biggest flaws and weigh her options carefully as she starts making choices that pushes her morality and the lengths she will go to for love.

tags: slow burn (finnick x oc), eventual violence, the usual stuff when it comes to the hunger games, not sure what else

I’ve been lying on a bed and staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever when the woman who introduced herself as Emmaline finally speaks up. “Last one, Oceana!” She says, smiling. She has hair so light it looks white and a gold piercing near her eyebrow, above all she has gold tattoos all over her arm. I will never understand Capitol fashion, but I guess if that was what made them comfortable I’ll try not to judge. I instantly bite the bottom of my teeth as she yanks the fabric from my leg, the hair below it tears off as I slowly recover from the pain. 

“Are we done?” I ask, turning my head to the side to glance at her before glancing at the clock. I’ve spent the past three hours in the Remake Centre and the last hour or so lying on the bed in a thin robe which is so thin you might as well not wear one as Emmaline rips my hair out of my body. No wonder I feel like I’ve been here for an eternity.

“Almost,” she smiles before calling the rest of my prep team over. “You’re doing very well.”

Almost? It’s been three hours and I’m still not ready to change into my costume for the parade. How much is there to do? I glance over at the rest of my prep team. There’s a lady called Nessa who has silver tattoos all over her arms, she has pink hair and all sorts of piercings on her ears– I suppose she’s the one that looks the most normal in contrast to some guy called Ryker who has his entire body dyed a pale shade of orange. 

They rub me down with some kind of lotion which stings for a while before it soothes my skin before pulling me from the table to remove the robe. I’m completely naked at this point and I can’t help but feel self conscious as I stand in the centre of the room awkwardly, watching as they circle me, wielding tweezers as they inspect my body closely, looking for any leftover hair. I probably shouldn’t feel as self conscious as I am right now, afterall, they’re only doing their jobs, but I can’t help it. Emmaline must’ve taken notice of it as she places her hand on my shoulder and gives a reassuring smile. 

“And we’re done!” Ryker claps his hands together, “you look excellent my dear, and I’m sure you’d look even more dazzling in your dress!”

“Thank you,” I smile, looking at Nessa who passes me a silk robe to wear out to the dressing room. 

“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Emmaline squeaks in her high-pitched voice and her funny Capitol accent. “Oh, my darling, you have such incredible potential when it comes to your looks! I’m so glad we’re going to manage to reach it!”

I’m not sure whether to take the last part as an insult or compliment but it doesn’t matter as I make my way out into the sitting room and take a seat on one of the velvet seats that are so comfortable I can fall asleep on them. I run my fingers through my hair. If only I was back in District 4 with Aurelia. My mind starts to wander off as I think about mother who’s probably worried to death and father who is probably carrying on with life just fine. Mother…The dress mother had given to me! I now remember about it and my lips turn upside down into a frown as I remember that I had left it on the train– not thinking about bringing it with me into the Capitol. 

I hear the door open and I turn around to see Valeria. The soft curls in her pink hair bounces up and down as she makes her way to me excitedly, there’s a big smile on her face as she looks at me, although it fades away when we make eye contact with each other. 

“Why the frown, Oceana? Did the prep team not do a good job?” She asks, slight concern lacing her voice. 

“No,” I force a smile. “They did a brilliant job.” I’m not sure how true the statement is, but Valeria seems to agree regardless.

“Then why the frown?” She asks, combing through my hair. “You should smile more, you have the sweetest smile!”

“I was just thinking about home,” I vaguely reply. 

“Well, I’m sure your family will be watching the opening ceremony from home!” Valeria says, smiling. “Now, let’s enjoy some food, shall we?” She presses a button on the side of the table. The top splits and from below rises a second tabletop which holds our lunch. 

Large pieces of salmon are in a dish with fresh toppings of tomatoes and olives on it. There is some soup that comes with the dish as well. I take a plate and cut some salmon onto it before breaking the delicate flesh with my teeth. I almost tear up upon tasting it. It tastes like something mother would make for Aurelia and me back home for one of our dinner parties. She would go to the market early in the morning to get the best pieces of salmon she could find whilst I go surfing. Then, she’d ask Aurelia to set up the table and chairs in the back garden where you get a nice view of the beach as she prepares the food. Then, in the evening, the guests would arrive and our house would be filled with laughter and joyful chatter as we gather outside to eat as we watch the sunset. 

I finish eating whatever I had taken and look up to find Valeria’s eyes on me. “You miss home, don’t you?” She says, her voice soft and gentle. It’s as if she’s read my thoughts. 

“I do,” I admit, biting the inside of my cheek as I look at her. 

“I’m sure you do,” she says. “So, Oceana, let’s talk about your costume for the opening ceremonies. My partner, Ophelia, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Gill. As you know, it’s customary to reflect your district’s culture.” 

I nod. For the opening ceremony, the costumes that the tributes wear should be something that suggests your district’s industry. District 1, luxury. District 2, masonry. District 3, factories. District 4, fishing. District 5, power. District 6, transportation. District 7, lumber. District 8, textiles. District 9, grain. District 10, livestock. District 11, agriculture. And District 12, mining. This means that Gill and I will be in some kind of ocean-themed and fisherman-themed costume since we’re from 4. Thankfully, District 4 usually got the better costumes, so I’m not exactly worried.

“So I assume it’ll be something similar to last year’s costume?” I ask and Valeria instantly shakes her head.

“Oh, no. Much better than that, Oceana!” She says. “Ophelia and I are meant to make you unforgettable! The crowd will remember you, I’ll assure you of that.”

A few hours later, I am dressed in the most sensational and majestic costume in the opening ceremonies. I’m in a blue and purple dress with so many layers of ruffles I can barely count them. It’s adorned with pearls, seashells and gemstones, the straps are made out of several chains of pearls and diamonds. In other words, the dress is mesmerisingly beautiful and it’s the small attention to detail Valeria had put into it that makes it so incredible. I’m wearing a pair of heels which I’ve learned how to walk in. My makeup makes me look older than I am with heavy eyeshadow and eyeliner which apparently helps my green eyes stand out and highlighter. My hair has soft, flowing curls in them with a couple of small braids completed with some seashells attached to my hair. It’s completely different as opposed to my usual pin straight hair and ponytail.

“The audience will remember you,” says Valeria as she helps me put on some pearl earrings and a necklace as a finishing touch. “You look like a siren, and I’m sure you’ll be a deadly one in the arena.” She clasps the necklace around my neck and adjusts my hair slightly when I see Gill walking over. 

“Hi, Gill,” I smile. He’s in a similar costume to mine, a golden necklace of a starfish hangs from his neck. He’s accompanied by his stylist, Ophelia, and his team, which all congratulate Valeria who seems a bit giddy as she accepts it. 

“Hi, Oceana,” Gill smiles, walking next to me as we’re brought down to the bottom level of the Remake Centre which is practically a gigantic stable as chariots pulled by teams of four horses are lined up in an orderly manner. “Excited?”

“More like nervous,” I remark.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” He asks, striding towards our chariot, helping me up. 

“I don’t know,” I sigh, “I guess it’s the sheer amount of people here tonight.”

Valeria and Ophelia make some last minute adjustments and position us carefully as we continue to talk to one another. The opening ceremony is about to start as I see the other tributes being loaded into their respective chariots. 

“Look, you can hold my hand if that makes you feel less nervous, alright?” He offers, which I gladly accept. “You just need to make sure the crowd remembers you. Smile and wave, if you want, if not just at least smile.”

“I’ll do whatever you do,” I whisper, making Gill chuckle.

I look at the horses which our chariot is attached to. They’re so well trained that there’s no need to guide their reins. They’re grey in colour with spots of white across their body. Soon, the opening music begins. It’s easy to hear and impossible to miss as it’s blasted around the Capitol. The massive doors slide open to reveal rows and rows of packed seats filled with buzz. The Capitol citizens are all excited about this as they immediately shift their gazes to the tributes from District 1 who ride out in their chariot pulled by ink-black horses. The roar of the crowd immediately follows, it’s obvious that they’re the favourites. District 2 follows them in position and in no time, Gill and I are approaching the door. 

“Let’s do this,” Gill says and it’s the last thing I hear before I hear the cheers and shouts of “District 4!” Everyone is paying attention to us and our striking get-up. I catch sight of myself on a large television screen and smile at how breathtakingly amazing we look. Under the bright lights, our extravagant costumes make us shine and catch the attention of everyone as the gemstones and diamonds on our outfits shine brightly. 

Smile and wave. I hear Stella’s voice in my head. The audience will remember you. I hear Valeria’s voice in my head. I give my sweetest smile and wave at the audience as they continue cheering for our district and our first names which they’ve bothered to find on the program. The crowd is going crazy as Gill gives a swoon worthy smile and blows a few kisses to the audience. I’m sure I don’t have enough confidence to pull any of that off so I continue to smile and wave which seems to do the job just fine as the audience continues throwing more flowers our way. I can hear “Oceana!” being shouted from both sides so I figure I’ve done my job well as we enter the City Circle. Slowly, I let go of Gill’s hand and turn to look at the remaining carriages that fill the loop of the City Circle. The buildings which surround it are packed, and through the windows you can see the most prestigious citizens of the Capitol. 

I catch sight of us on television as the president gives the official welcome speech from a balcony above us. It is tradition to show each of the tributes during the speech and to give them air time, but I can tell we’re getting more of it than planned. The national anthem plays and each pair of tributes are shown again quickly. Our chariot then parades around the circle for a final time before we disappear into the Training Center. 

Once the doors are shut, Gill and I are both engulfed by our prep teams, whose words you can barely decipher as they shower us in praise after praise, babbling about how well of a job we did out there. I glance around, most tributes are glaring at us as they show us dirty looks which confirms my suspicion that we had outshone all of them. But some of them, like District 1 and 2, are giving us warm smiles when we return back. I’m confused as to why, but I figure it’s because we’re all Career tributes. 

Valeria and Ophelia help us from our chariot, continuing to praise us and I look at Gill who seems pleased with himself. 

“You did well,” he comments, smiling at me. “The crowd loved you.”

“They loved you too!” I laugh as we walk away from the chariots, but not before I pet one of the horses which led our chariot as a thank you.

“I could hear your name being chanted everywhere, even more than mine,” Gill comments. “It’s not as scary as you thought, right?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle shyly. “Thanks for letting me hold your hand, I think I would’ve collapsed if not for it.”

“It’s nothing,” Gill shrugs. “It’s my job to help you out, we’re in these games together…Besides, you remind me of my little sister, it’s only right that I do.”

author's note: hello! once again, thank you for reading all the way! i really appreciate it! if you like this, consider commenting or reblogging if you want to :) thank you and any constructive criticism or feedback is welcomed!

[plscallmeeren]

PLAYLIST | THE MESSAGE

• Raven's Endless Mix •

Lash Out by Alice Merton

I've got something to say

Might start a riot

Rip that tape from my mouth

I won't be quiet

'Cuz everything is nothing 'til you realise it's something you want

Sound of Silence performed by Disturbed

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat; drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost

Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode

Take second best

Put me to the test

Things on your chest

You need to confess

I will deliver, you know I'm a forgiver

All I Want Is To Be Your Girl by Holly Miranda

We could fuck in the sun and dance 'til dawn

And all I want is to be your girl

Black holes in the skies to the ends of the world

Put rocks in your pocket, take the boat for a whirl

Lady Marmalade by LaBelle

Touching her skin, feelin' silky smooth

Colour of café au lait

River Lea by Adele

But it's in my roots, in my veins

It's in my blood and I stain every heart that I use to heal the pain

So I blame it on the River Lea

We Gotta Get Out Of This Place performed by The Angels

We gotta get out of this place

If it's the last thing we ever do

There's a Ghost by Fleurie

Am I afraid to be alone?

That nobody will ever know this death I'm dying

bury a friend by Billie Eilish

What do you want from me?

Why don't you run from me?

What are you wondering?

What do you know?

Why aren't you scared of me?

Why do you care for me?

When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

Green Onions by Booker T. & the M.G.'s

Then you put on your crying

Like you never cried before

Babooshka by Kate Bush

But how she was before the tears

And how she was before the years flew by

And how she was when she was beautiful

Mustang Sally performed by The Commitments, Andrew Strong

Those weepin' eyes

This Old Heart by Gin Wigmore

Breathe, the streets without a name

These burning clouds don't always look the same

Midnight moon, you are my thunder

I am the glass in which you wonder

Still, I keep falling on, babe

Highway to Hell by AC/DC

I'm on my way to the promised land

I'm on the highway to hell

And I'm goin' down

I Like It Heavy by Halestorm

If the windows ain't shaking

Making my heart race

If I can't feel it in my chest I'm in the wrong damn place

Got a demon in my soul and a voice in my head

Saying go, go, go, I can sleep when I'm dead

The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I am not frightened of dying

Any time will do, I don't mind

Why should I be frightened of dying?

There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime

Girls Got Rhythm by AC/DC

I've been around the world

I've seen a million girls

Ain't one of them got

What my baby she got

Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind

In the web that is my own, I begin again

Said to my friend, baby

Nothin' else mattered

Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves by Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart, Aretha Franklin

Mothers, daughters

And their daughters, too

Woman to woman

We're singing with you

Black Sheep by Gin Wigmore

Making my own road out of gravel and some wine

And if I have to fall then it won't be in your line

Everybody's doing it, so why the hell should I?

Kool Girl by Seasalt

Totally untouchable

Cool girl

The kind your mother thinks is trouble

Amen by Halestorm

Someone's gonna hate

It's never gonna change

It gets harder every day

It's a hell of a place

To keep your heart from freezing

To keep yourself believing

brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

And I'm so sick of 17

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

If someone tells me one more time

'Enjoy your youth' I'm gonna cry

And I don't stick up for myself

I'm anxious and nothing can help

And I wish I'd done this before

And I wish people liked me more

Do Not Disturb by Halestorm

I'm on the very top floor, room 1334

There's a king-sized bed

But we can do it on the floor

Starstruck - Single Version by Sorry

Pressure, poets

Priceless smiles

Cutting edge

Entertainment

Foolish antics

Antique evenings

Fragile, frugal

Breaking even

Uppers, downers

All rounders

Back in Black by AC/DC

Back in black, I got the sack

It's been too long, I'm glad to be back

Yes, I'm let loose, from the noose

That's kept me hanging about

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine

She hid around corners and she hid under beds

She killed it with kisses and from it she fled

Only Happy When It Rains by Garbage

And though I know you can't appreciate it

I'm only only happy when it rains

You know I love it when the news is bad

Why it feels so good to feel so sad?

Doom and Gloom by The Rolling Stones

I had a dream last night that I was a pilot in a plane

And all the passengers were drunk and insane

Everybody Talks by Neon Trees

I found out that everybody talks

Everybody talks, everybody talks too much

It started with a whisper

And that was when I kissed her

Gloria: In Exelsis Deo by Patti Smith

Meltin' in a pot of thieves

Wild card up my sleeve

Thick heart of stone

My sins' my own

They belong to me, me

People say, 'beware!'

But I don't care

Riders on the Storm by The Doors

There's a killer on the road

His brain is squirming like a toad

Take a long holiday

Let your children play

If you give this man a ride

Sweet family will die

Killer on the road, yeah

Wade in the Water by Eva Cassidy

And God's gonna trouble the water

I Hate Myself For Loving You by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Hey man, bet you can't treat me right

You just don't know what you was missing last night

Why'd Ya Do It by Marianne Faithful

I had my balls and my brains put into a vice

And twisted around for a whole fucking week

Man Like That by Gin Wigmore

Did he bite you on the neck right before the job was done?

And does he ask about your mama?

Does he sing your song when you get mad?

Well, I been there, done that many times

And all the kicking and the screaming won't bring him back

Teenagers by My Chemical Romance

'Cause they got ways of keeping you clean

They're gonna rip up your heads

Your aspirations to shreds

Another cog in the murder machine

Shoot to Thrill performed by Halestorm

Pull the trigger

Shoot to thrill

Play to kill

Too many women with too many pills

People Are Strange by The Doors

People Are Strange when you're a stranger

Faces look ugly when you're alone

Women seem wicked when you're unwanted

Streets are uneven when you're down

hey little girl (live) by sophiamarie.b

There's a ghost inside of you but it's hidden too deep

Hey, little girl, you'd never imagine

You get a little older, you'll get abandoned

Hey, little girl, you know smoking kills

You don't really care, 'cuz you love how it feels

Big Bad Wolf by Roses & Revolutions

Funny how it all works out in the end

You're playing with fire

Living in sin

Nothing's ever free

No, nothing's ever free, is it?

Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel

You know, the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone

And it's really got me worried

I'm going nowhere and I'm in a hurry

The Swing by INXS

It marks the moments as the years go by

In an innocent phase

jealousy, jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo

Co-comparison is killing me slowly

I think I think too much

'Bout kids who don't know me

I'm so sick of myself

Rather be, rather be

Anyone, anyone else

Ballad of a Thin Man by Bob Dylan

You try so hard, but you don't understand

Just what you will say when you get home

Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

So Hott by Kid Rock

You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex

I can tell you're trouble, but I'm still obsessed

Insomnia 2021 - Epic Edit by Maceo Plex, Faithless

I only smoke weed when I need to

And I need to get some rest

Yo, where's my sense?

9 to 5 by Dolly Parton

Workin' 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin'

Barely gettin' by, it's all takin' and no givin'

They just use your mind

And they never give you credit

It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it

Living in the 70s by Skyhooks

I feel a bit nervous

I feel a bit mad

I feel like a good time that's never been had

I feel a bit fragile

I feel a bit low

Tomorrow, Wendy performed by Concrete Blonde

Underneath the chilly, grey November sky

We can make believe that Kennedy is still alive and

We're shooting for the moon and Jackie's driving by and

They say 'good try'

Tomorrow Wendy is going to die

Bang Bang Bang Bang by Sohodolls

So we put on our eyeliner

And a bit of glitter dust

Life at night is always finer

Neon streets are full of lust

A Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard

No one calls you honey, when you're sitting on a throne

Beware the patient woman, 'cause this much I know

No one calls you honey, when you're sitting on a throne

Girl With No Name by Jules Larson + AG

I don't want to write another sad song

I come undone from everyone I'm doing wrong

I call you up at night when I'm driving home

Will I die alone?

Maybe I don't mean it when I say 'goodbye'

Forever loses meaning for me all the time

Girl With One Eye by Florence + The Machine

That's the price she'll pay

I took a knife and cut out her eye

I took it home and watched it wither and die

Well, she's lucky that I didn't slip her a smile

Destination Anywhere by The Commitments, Niamh Kavanagh

Oh, destination anywhere

East or west, I don't care

You see my baby don't want me no more

They Say I'm Different by Betty Davis

My great-grandpa was a blues lover

He be rockin' his moonshine to B.B. King and Jimmy Reed

Rock on

That's why they say I'm different

all the good girls go to hell by Billie Eilish

'Cause even God herself has enemies

And once the water starts to rise

And heaven's out of sight

She'll want the devil on her team

Bloodletting (The Vampire Song) by Concrete Blonde

There's a crack in the mirror

And a bloodstain on the bed

Oh, you were a vampire

And baby, I'm the walking dead

I'm Not Calling You A Liar by Florence + The Machine

I'm not calling you a liar

Just don't lie to me

I'm not calling you a thief

Just don't steal from me

I'm not calling you a ghost

Just stop haunting me

And I love you so much

I'm gonna let you kill me

Milk and Cookies by Melanie Martinez

I'm fucking crazy, need my prescription filled

Do you like my cookies?

They're made just for you

A little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too

Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane

When the garden flowers

Baby, are dead, yes and

Your mind, your mind is so full of red

The Fine Print by Stupendium

That's provided at generous prices

Your worth is determined by your sacrifices

A small term of service when down on the surface

Internment's a freebie that comes with the purchase

We work

To earn the right to work x4

To earn the right to give

Ourselves the right to buy

Ourselves the right to live

To earn the right to die

Bullet With Butterfly Wings by The Smashing Pumpkins

The world is a vampire

Sent to drain

Secret destroyers

Hold you up to the flames

And what do I get

For my pain?

Betrayed desires

And a piece of the game

Days and Days performed by Concrete Blonde

That's hours of forever

Running all together

Like the crossroads of a minute

And you and me were in it

And I never saw it coming

Never saw it fade away

Today, today, today

Zero by The Smashing Pumpkins

My reflection, dirty mirror

There's no connection to myself

I'm your lover, I'm your zero

In the face in your dreams of glass

Hounds of Love by Kate Bush

Afraid of what might be

Hiding in the dark, hiding in the street

And of what was following me

The hounds of love are hunting

I've always been a coward

And I don't know what's good for me

Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd

I can't explain, you would not understand

This is not how I am

I have become comfortably numb

Starman by David Bowie

Waiting in the sky

He'd like to come and meet us

But he thinks he'd blow our minds

Let the children lose it

Let the children use it

To Love A Boy by Maya Hawke

Like a hidden cave, I am always open

I hold the space you made, I'm empty, but still hoping

I have a feeling, a terrible fear encroaching

That I'll never love a boy the way I love the ocean

Little Dark Age by MGMT

The humour's not the same, coming from denial

Oh-oh, I grieve in stereo, the stereo sounds strange

I know that if you hide, it doesn't go away

If you get out of bed and find me standing all alone

Open-eyed, burn the page, my little dark age

White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane

When logic and proportion

Have fallen sloppy dead

And the White Knight is talking backwards

And the Red Queen's off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head

Are You Satisfied by MARINA

Do I need to lie to make my way in life?

Are you satisfied with an easy ride?

Once you cross the line, will you be satisfied?

Sad inside this life, unsatisfied, prayin'

Everybody by Cold Chisel

Everybody wants complete fidelity from two or three lovers simultaneously

Everybody wants to be an individual

Everybody else does, too

All I wanna be is idiot-free and out of here with you

What's Up? by 4 Non-Blondes

And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed

Just to get it all out

What's in my head

And I, I am feeling a little peculiar

Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd

Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade

Your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war

For a lead role in a cage?

• Worth Listening To •

[imaddicted2hs]

A one shot of enemies to friends to lovers

Another one shot yes because i don't feel like continuing the series i started just yet.

This is not my best work why lie. I could have done way better but i guess i got too excited to just finish it. Though promise, next post will be better than this because i will give it time.

--------------------------------------

Word Count- 2,527

warnings- none

happy reading!!

Nothing is better than a romantic weather with pink skies and soft breeze carrying a sweet smell of wet leaves. But sitting with your legs on the dashboard as you and your friend (with whom you are secretly in love with) jam together to the songs loudly, driving past wide, empty fields, is a cherry on the top really. "Are we ever going to make a stop or our plan is to drive until the fuel tank is empty?" He doesn't answer right away. I stare at his side profile, which I dare to say is perfect, waiting for a response. "I know it's hard for you to stay still in a place like a good pup, but 10 more minutes babe, we are almost at our motel." I dramatically gasp and smack his arm which makes him chuckle.

Long story short, few months back as I was walking past the school lab, my ears couldn't help but listen to someone talk through the paper thin walls. It was that cocky voice which I could recognize from miles away. Harry Styles. My biggest enemy and academic rival. If someone told me at the time that I'll be hanging out with him and secretly even like him a lot, I would have declared that person delusional. He and I had all the same classes and what can I say other than that everyone knew if we got a chance to stab each other to death we wouldn't let it slide. He wanted to be the one to score the most and so did I. We pulled all sort of pranks just to bring the other one down at our level. Ms. Grey, our English professor never gave any of us the chance to answer in class because it all ended with torn notebooks, weird drawings on the faces and the class hooting. Yes we both have had a perfect record other than those countless detentions because of each other. "UGH finally. I have been dying to pee and take a shower." I see him roll his eyes but I don't pay any mind to it because I'm too busy collecting my stuff and leaving the old red mustang. My grandmother was crazy about cars and made sure to leave the best one of her collections for her best granddaughter that is me. "Can we have a room with two single beds for one night? Oh and can you please check if you have the once with a balcony." As the receptionist in front of me does her thing, I look out of the window as Harry takes out his stuff from the backseat and closes the door. Not for a single second I take my eyes off of him until the lady that was long forgotten by me clears her throat for my attention. "Oh yeah sorry." I smile awkwardly as I pick up the key kept in front of me. "Gimme the keys I'll open the door, make the payment and keep the stuff so that you can go collect your stuff you forgot in the backseat and lock the car because you brought the keys with yourself." I sigh and hand him the key and make a quick run outside.

I'm huffing like a mad person as I finally reach the fourth floor because this place didn't have an elevator. My eyes widen as I hear the shower running and I don't waste a second to bang on the door and shout "how dare you, you cheater! You knew I wanted to use the bathroom badly you cruel ass." I whine. I sit angrily on the bed staring at the door so that as soon as it opens I can ruin his pretty face with my nails and maybe bite him so that his body hurts. He opens the door and before I get to throw my tantrum I notice that he is fully dressed and his hair is dry. "But-" he cuts me off "it wasn't in the best condition and you are extremely crazy about hygiene so I just ran some water so that it looks less dirty." I'm embarrassed. "Oh my god I-" "Go use it before you make a mess here" he chuckles and before I turn even more red I leave the room faster than Flash himself. On the first day of the semester last year, he slimed me just because I took his favourite seat and he had to sit in the last row. It was funny to see his face during the whole class and hearing his tone as he introduced himself. Even if I had to face the consequences and get slimed in the end, it was worth it. And today he gave a thought to my pet peeve which has my mind all puzzled. And I even forgot to bring a clean pair of clothes with me inside. I'll have to go out in the towel. I suck in a long breath and open the door to find him on the bed scrolling through his phone. "Can you please close your eyes?" He looks directly at me totally still and the moment I see something change in his eyes he quickly mutters a sure and looks away with his eyes clamped shut before I can figure out the look.

The series of events has been too embarrassing for my liking and I'm almost at the brink of overthinking. "Meet me downstairs in an hour okay?" "Don't forget the whipped cream for me." "Alright and wear a jacket, it gets cold at night." I hum in response and he leaves. What exactly are we doing here? Well after a prank war, unlimited broken pens, thousands of notes lost, the headmaster was fed up with us. We were called in the office after I had pulled a pretty big prank on him which was dope but he denied that wholeheartedly. He hated cats, what an abomination right? So I came early in the morning, and just before the bell, I put not 1 but 4 kittens and a cat in his locker. More to my luck, he was late that day and didn't take the necessary precautions we used to whenever we opened our lockers because locker pranks were the most common ones. He opened it in a hurry and was met with the smallest kitten ready to leap on him. The look on his face as he shrieked didn't go uncaptured ofcourse. He was horrified and I was grinning like the most evil creature. The other two kittens with the help of his hoody climbed on him and started licking his face as he tried to shoo them out of his locker. The cat was the most stubborn and the dirty looks Harry gave to her were too funny. I just couldn't stop laughing. As he finally managed to get rid of them, they all were not in his favour as they started roaming in the corridor creating noises. Teachers who were teaching with the doors open stepped out just to give Harry the annoyed looks while he tried to escape from the crime scene. Even the universe was against him because the smallest kitten had made his way into his bag and made an appearance while Professor Keith was trying to explain the economics crisis. Whole class turned into a chaos as the kitten destroyed the benches with his scratches and other students pushed each other to pet the little devil. This was the limit I guess because we were both sitting in front of the headmaster as he wrote us a 5 days suspension letter. We argued like crazy until he asked us to settle the matter between us right there right then and promise each other to let the whole school live peacefully. We got rid of the suspension letter disaster and as I started to walk out in the corridor he called my name and said he wanted to talk. "Let's call off the war and make a bet." "I'm all ears." "Whoever has the higher GPA in the semester end will get a fully paid one day trip from the loser." I rolled my eyes at him as I laughed just to realise he was serious. "Okay then it's a bet. Also the winner gets the most expensive drink on the Starbucks menu with all the toppings." I never liked coffee but it was a pretty good idea to make one's pocket hurt. He throwed a terrified look which quickly changed into a neutral expression before he nodded and walked away as I stared at his tall figure.

From that day we still competed but through out the process we actually grew closer by slowly clearing each other's doubt when we were the only ones in the library late at night to offering each other pens and snacks. I heard him listening to my favorite band and I couldn't help but throw questions at him out of the blue. I caught him off guard that day because he stuttered non stop and didn't look at my face for longer than a second. I didn't realize when we became friends but it turned out pretty good. So who's paying? Harry ofcourse. He left one hour earlier to get the most expensive drink on the menu and some other snacks before we go to a view point. I wanted it to be a road trip because that's the best you can do in a single day. I had a 4.0 GPA whereas his was 3.9. Not a big difference but I still won. I glance at the table clock and it's been 50 minutes since he left. I put my hair in a braid, curly hair are impossible to handle. I make my way down stairs and I see him with the mustang in the parking lot. I make my way over and without wasting a minute I open the door, sit and grin at him. It's just a 5 minute ride which I'm thankful for because driving at night at like 10 p.m. isn't my favorite thing. I get out of the car and as soon as I look ahead, I'm stunned. The most perfect view I have ever seen is in front of me as the cold breeze is all I can feel and hear. With tall trees on both the sides of the cliff, a lightened town below us and a starry night above us, I'm breathless. It's so perfect. I turn to look at Harry and he's already looking at me. He's holding everything and he gestures for me to sit on the hood. So I do. He takes a seat beside me with all types of snacks between us. He hands me the drink and I laugh at his same expression. "I don't even like coffee, I just wanted to let the loser lose some money too." He looks at me offended and shocked. "You are cruel. I don't like coffee too." "Well we need to drink it though. Let's share it hm?" I offer him picking up a red cup from the stash. He's hesitant but nods eventually taking the cup from my hand. "So how much?" "This coffee itself was 61 dollars" I gasp wide eyed. "You're kidding???" All I get is a shoulder shrug and a tight lipped smile as I laugh in shock. "Now I feel bad." "We both know you don't." He rolls his eyes as we both give it a try. "Okay it's not THAT bad you know." "Yeah because you got all the toppings and I got only coffee!" He accuses me even if I didn't attempt so. I squint my eyes then I just offer him my drink. "Oh- oh. Uhm. You sure?" He's blushing? Why? "Yeah I'm sure. Here. Give me yours." He smells great. He always does. "So how does it feel to lose?" I wiggle my eyebrows at him. "I let you win babe." I scoff at his response while he sips on his coffee making faces.

"Can I ask you something?" I take the opportunity to ask him something I have always thought of everytime we talked or everytime I saw him. "Go ahead." "Why were you always rude to me?" his shoulders stiffen all of a sudden, "since the day I joined this school, even in homeroom, when we had no classes together you didn't shake my hand when I offered. Everyone was kind to me but you just stared at me." I look at him as he stares ahead barely breathing. "Harry." He whips his head towards me. "Why?" He just looks me in the eyes as I do the same. "I liked you." My eyes widen and I quickly look away. "Wha-" "I saw you and I was so mesmerized by you. By your confidence, by your looks, by your voice. And I was competitive and rude three years ago." I can't believe my ears. This is not happening. It can't be. "I couldn't believe it and thought if I showed you I'm capable too, you will like me. But you didn't spare a single glance at me because of how I acted on the first day." I'm not able to comprehend the words as I listen to him. "But you wanted to be first? The bet too?" I ask him without looking at him. "It never was about the grades. I wanted you. So when an year after that we had all the classes together I did everything to just make you notice me. Even if it included all the pranks, the competition and fights." I'm too stunned to speak. As I turn my head, I look in his eyes and they carry guilt. Like he's trying to apologize. "I liked you too but never knew why you hated me. So I started hating you too." "You still like me?" He's quick to ask after my confession." I nod slightly in response. "Good because I still like you too." Before I get to open my mouth, he cradles my face with his big hand and pulls me towards him. Our foreheads touch as he stares right into my eyes. I can smell the scent of coffee in his breathe and his sandlewood smell. I glance towards his lips and I think he takes the hint as he wastes not even a second in wrapping his lips into mine. He's impatient and fast and he doesn't stop. Neither do I. Our tongues fight for the dominance and I give up easily because he's too good. I let him explore my mouth, I let him bite my lips, I let him devour me. I soon run out of breathe though because I pull away panting as he stares me with those eyes and I feel small under his gaze. I peck at his lips as I move the stash of food aside and come close. I hold on too his arm tightly and snuggle into him. We both look at the beauty in front of us as we feel each other's presence without uttering another word.

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