#I guess that set of clothes got digested but don't worry about it

[rethy]

I think it'd be nice if they were roommates for a while.

[oncefutureemrys]

17. "Don't Ask" bc I'm an idiot and send afraid twice

Alright I promise I’ll be getting to your hug haha I just realized that it was nearing the end of April and so I needed to finish this last one before the end.

Thank you to the amazing prompts @night-faye created! You can find them right here.

Also Click Here If You Would Like To Read On AO3!

Anyway, here it is:

Merlin finds Arthur sitting on the edge of his bed, his glassy eyes staring at the wall in front of him.

Merlin knows why he’s like this, understands why he seems so distant, so sad. He sees it in the way he bites his lips, in the way his hands clench beside him, the way his shoulders seem stiff from the tension.

He understands the anger, the hopelessness, the utter shame, and unhappiness. He knows because it’s exactly how he feels, the pain still etched in his mind even weeks after the incident.

Merlin sighs, his body drained from the strain he has been put in since the attack. “Sire,” Merlin says, holding a potion in his hand. Arthur flinches from the sudden sound, turning to look at him. Merlin smiles, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before gently handing him the potion Gaius had instructed to give him. For the pain, he had said. He hadn’t bothered to express which kind.

Arthur takes a whiff of it and wrinkles his nose before shrugging and downing the substance. He sets it down and attempts to relax his shoulders, wincing at how stiff they are, before attempting to massage them himself. When it proves difficult, Merlin bats his hands away.

“Let me,” he insists and Arthur seems too tired to resist. Merlin situates himself behind his back before pressing into his shoulders and neck. Merlin’s about halfway through kneading his shoulders when Arthur breaks the silence.

“It’s surprising.”

“What is?” Merlin asks.

“How you’re actually able to do something.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, scoffing. “I’ll have you know I can do many things.”

“Yes, I’ve seen,” Arthur says, grinning smugly. “I know perfectly well you’re incredibly clumsy, bad-mannered, horribly dumb, and most definitely— “

Merlin presses hard on Arthur’s shoulders. He yelps, turning to see Merlin’s playful smile. Huffing, he looks down, not saying anything else.

It was strange how they could always do this, how even after an incredibly difficult experience, they could always pretend as if everything was normal. Merlin suspected it was largely because they had both been through so much. When they were constantly thrust into intense situations, jokes and banter were their one shield they could hide behind, their one way of pretending all was normal when it was anything but.

The painful silence reminds him of the events that happened a few weeks ago, of the suffocating smoke, the sticky blood that stained his clothes – his or someone else’s blood, he wasn’t sure anymore – the area littered with dead bodies of all the innocent people and—

“Merlin, Merlin,” he hears Arthur say, breaking him out of his thoughts. It’s only then that he realizes his nails were digging into Arthur’s skin, breaking into it and leaving small marks on his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin says horrified, taking his hands off of his immediately, swallowing back the panic. “I am so sorry. I—I can’t believe I would—“

“It’s okay,” Arthur says, but Merlin doesn’t hear him, muttering “I’m sorry,” over and over until Arthur has to reach for his arm. “It’s okay, Merlin.” He looks into his eyes at that moment and Merlin swallows, calming himself as he nods slowly.

Arthur continues to look at him, filled with such intensity that Merlin finds it hard to breathe. His heart beats erratically, his mind fixating on every little detail of the moment – the way his hand lingers on his own, the way his eyes look at his with a hint of something more, something Merlin’s too afraid to name, the way his eyes flicker to his lips. He’s so focused, he doesn’t even realize when he’s starting to lean in, the way he’s starting to mimic the same movements.

Finally coming to his senses, he slowly moves back away from him. Arthur blinks his eyes, his cheeks flushing before reluctantly letting go of his hand, the awkward tension nearly smothering him.

Merlin, not knowing how to react, silently moves to sit next to him, making sure to keep enough space between the two of them. He knows what happened, God that isn’t the first time that it’s happened, but he knows more than anything that they can’t. It was foolish to get his hopes up and believe they ever could.

“Are you feeling alright?” Arthur finally asks, not looking at him.

Merlin raises his eyebrows. “Does it look like I am?”

There’s a silence before, “No, I guess not.”

Merlin sighs, biting his lip. “I’m just… mad, I guess. I don’t even know what happened and just… one second they were there… and the next…”

“…they weren’t,” Arthur finishes and Merlin nods solemnly.

“Merlin, I don’t blame you. For any of it. If anything, I blame myself.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Merlin immediately responds. “You were just trying to help.”

“Yes, and so were you,” Arthur says right back. “We just… we weren’t in time, I guess.”

There’s a brief pause when they both seem to be digesting what the other has said, the past few moments still lingering in their minds. Finally, after some processing, Arthur says:

“You confuse me greatly, Merlin.”

Merlin snorts. “Yes, I do that often, it would seem.”

“You do,” he agrees. “In fact, every time something happens, you always seem to surprise me even more.”

“How so?”

Arthur hesitates a moment before starting. “I just… I’m used to you sacrificing yourself for someone else, God knows you have the worst self-preservation skills known to man. What confuses me is… how you can look so fearless.” Arthur takes one shy look at him before turning away once more to look at his hands. “I mean… I’ve spent years and years training, forcing myself to never show fear, and you on the other hand… Whenever we’re in a dangerous situation, all I see is bravery. And I’ve never known where you got it from.”

Merlin certainly never expected this to be what he was confused about. He shrugs. “I don’t know… I suppose I have a similar feeling that you do. Have to keep people safe and all of that.”

Arthur looks even more confused than before. “But you’re not king. None of this is your concern. You don’t have to do any of this. Which is why I’m confused. Because you always act like you are… even when you aren’t.”

Merlin’s not sure how to respond, not sure how to evade the indirect question, and so he doesn’t. He just sits still, indecision freezing him in place.

When Arthur notices this, he pauses a moment quietly asking, “What are you hiding from me?”

Merlin’s head shoots up to look at him, his eyes widened, his heart beating rapidly. Arthur’s face is surprisingly vulnerable, his eyes longing to know, to understand. He wants to lie once again, play dumb, but then he remembers Morgana and Agravaine and Uther. He reminds himself of everyone who has lied to him, he thinks about Agravaine telling him “how you managed to deceive him” and telling him that “perhaps we’re more alike than you think,” and he decides that maybe, just this once, he won’t lie.

But he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss his magic after the stress he’s experienced over the past few weeks, not sure he can stand another scarring memory, another betrayed look, just weeks after a tragedy. And so instead he takes a deep breath and whispers, “Don’t ask. Don’t ask because I can’t… I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Arthur looks imploringly at him, almost desperate, and Merlin feels guilty for not responding. But he can’t tell them, he’s not ready, and he doesn’t think that Arthur is. After everything Arthur has been through, he’s not ready for another betrayal so quickly.

Arthur, after a while, reluctantly nods, looking away. “You don’t have to tell me,” is what he starts with and Merlin sits up straight, turning to look at him with confusion. “I don’t know what your secrets are or why you can’t trust me with them – but it’s fine. I can live with that. Just promise me—whenever you feel ready… just tell me. I mean, I trust you enough to not need to worry but... one of these days, I’d just like to know you, Merlin. All of you.”

Merlin’s shocked that he had told him that, he was shocked that Arthur trusted him enough not to ask about his secrets. Merlin’s eyes water at this and he has to cough to keep his emotions inside. All of these years of lying and being terrified of this moment, to have Arthur tell him that he trusts him despite his secrets and his lies… he has the urge to hug him, even though he knows Arthur wouldn’t be happy about that. Merlin finds himself nodding solemnly. “Okay,” he says, hoping his gaze will tell him how much this means to him, just how thankful he is for him, just how much he absolutely loves him at this moment. “I promise.”

Anyway, that was that! Thanks for reading! I appreciate anyone who does!

[grokebaby]

What's back home?

Katherine got up at 6:05. She always got up first. And most always at the same time. She got into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen, turning on the coffeemaker. It started working a cup with a conveniently quiet Humm. She took out her sugar free yogurt and organic fruits and started putting them in the bowl in an aesthetically pleasing order. After setting the bowl down on the table with a fresh cup of black coffee, she voice commanded the radio on her favourite channel and began doing her morning exercises. It was all the same routine she'd been doing since turning 20. And her body simply couldn't start up without a good exercise and a stretching.

Her husband Gerald slept for another hour until finally crawling out of the bedroom. "Good morning dear", Katherine said in a neutral tone, reading an e-book she'd started earlier that week. Her breakfast table-ware had already been run under the tap and put in the sink neatly. "Mornin' honey. News!" Gerald responded, opening the fridge. Their radio switched to the news channel as Gerald put last night's lasagna in the microwave. "Don't yell at the radio", Katherine quipped over the noise of the empire's latest happenings. "I didn't" Gerald responded. "You just did." his wife pushed back, not even lifting her head from her reading. "It runs on voice command Katey, I just commanded it" Gerald explained drowsily, pulling up his boxers. "The AI doesn't need to be convinced of your authority to do it's job honey" Katherine notified half seriously. The microwave made a little ping, opening the door to a lukewarm plate of lasagna. Gerald took a fork and sat in the matching armchair next to his wife's. "Katey I love you but we have this same conversation literally every morning." He sighed, taking a forkful of food.

"No we don't. Not literally. I love you too Gerry" Katherine retorted, adding the nickname most likely out of some frustrating way to get back at him. He snorted in amusement, sharing a look with the woman. There was still the same warmth under an ever thinning layer of self centered dignity. She continued reading. But they did have this same conversation yesterday..

Kalvin was forced to take a standing spot in the train again. He was fortunately used to standing around by this point in his life, since his job included alot of walking anyway. He looked out the window as the tubular vehicle slid up the tracks, above the ground level traffic. A person he usually didn't think about popped up in his mind. It was in the form of a childhood memory, probably brought on by two small children running into a store. He and Luke used to shoplift every now and then. They'd see a cool train set in the window, or a packet of muffins in the aisle, and immediately get the same idea. Sharing a brain cell stayed with them for years after the orphanage, even after their little brother circle was broken. One of them would always distract the employees either by asking incessant questions about a random product, pretend to buy something, or fake an injury. Or sometimes get an actual injury. Luke was a clumsy kitten.

He smiled a little, catching his tail wagging subconsciously. It stopped once he acknowledged it. His mind swam to a more recent memory of his brother. Frustrated growls and tense tail flicking. He remembered how astounded he was upon hearing what Luke actually did for a living.. "Oh cmon, we used to do vigilant-y stuff all the time! What's so shocking here?" Luke'd said. Kalvin tried to list all the legal and physical trouble his brother would be in, if anything were to happen.

"It's secret, Kalvin! We hide our traces! Obviously!"

That wasn't explanation enough. They eventually ended the discussion. For that evening at least. But it was the start of many more arguments. Not that it was the only subject of discourse. His brain skipped to the part where Kalvin was done packing his belongings into the van, gotten in himself and looked to his brother. They shared eye contact. It was cold. It hurt. It didn't lessen his anger. The next time he saw his brother was on the news. A mugshot. A crazy headline. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream "I told you so!" to his brother's face. He couldn't.

The train smoothly slid to a stop, intercom announcing where they were now. Kalvin was shaken out of his reflections. He stepped out.

Ash groaned and decided to finally give studying a rest. He'd been reading the same paragraph over and over again, not really digesting any of it. He sighed heavily and stared at the screen for a few seconds, blankly. After spacing out for a solid minute, he simply shook his head and got up to fetch himself ice tea from the fridge. There wasn't much else in there. He strolled into the livingroom, wanting to get away from what his brain considered "Studying space". The tea was kinda stale but the coldness of it refreshed him a little, relaxing his body.

He glanced at the clock, only to notice it was afternoon already. He smiled a little at the timing of his tea - his mother would be doing the same back home right about now. He should call her. He texts her regularly but the poor woman only takes the time to write in the evenings, right before bed, as she's scrolling her phone for one last reality check. She'd definitely appreciate the call. Everything's on voice command back there anyways.

He had her number on quick dial, and the phone was ringing in a second. She took a bit to pick up, but soon enough an old woman spoke from the other end. "Yes dear?" Ash swallowed. He way preferred non-instant methods of communication - talking directly to someone was so easy to mess up.

"Hi mom. What's up? I just uhh.. Took an ice tea from the fridge and thought of you, I guess." he said into the phone. "Oh, I was just putting on my own tea right here, right - right about now. It's boiling. But it'll come fast for sure." she stuttered back. "Yeah, that's why -.." Ash started before being cut off. "Yes how's studying dear? You um, you had that big exam coming up." Ash stifled a sigh. He definitely wasn't in the mood to get right back to this topic again. "Yeah.. Yeah I was just taking a little break here. There's alot of material to.. you know, take in."

The rest of the call consisted of small talk and affirming to his mom that yes, he does indeed still live by the basic standards of hygiene, and that yes, his friends at school are doing good but are just busy. He eventually hung up.

Could've gone worse. He let his thoughts wonder for the time it took him to finish the ice tea, after which he begrudgingly returned to his materials again

Amalia turned off the TV. The news always gave her anxiety. Something bad always happened, either on the news or whenever someone was watching them. If it was something she really had to know, it would surely come to her knowledge some other way.

She got up to make herself cocoa. Knowing Colin would be coming home from football practice around this time, she prepared two cups.

Out the window she could see the local neighbourhood. It wasn't the fanciest one, but she'd gotten comfortable in it by now. It was already dark out, and most work-going people would be inside. Only a few people floated by, illuminated by the street lights. A group of youngsters on their way to the pub. Elderly people going to the store last minute to get something they just remembered. Late-night workers picking up trash. A band of strangers lurking behind the corner.

Something about that didn't sit right with her.

She looked away, afraid they'd notice her at the window. Pulling the curtain, she dared quick glances every few minutes. About three or four people, waiting around for something. Nobody hung out for fun in spots like these. They were talking with each other, although probably not pleasantries. Most of them wore sizeable coats, and the ones that didn't had stuff to carry. Her palms dampened with sweat and she looked away again, trying not to focus on whatever thoughts seeing them originally brought up.

Her cocoa got cold as she forgot to drink it.

Memories tried to push up to the surface. Of large groups of strangers surrounding her. Being held against a cold brick wall. Manhandling. Her claws slid out, pushing against the wooden table. She'd managed to tear into a cloth, or perhaps an ear with them in the past. She wanted to avoid conflict at all costs. The house around her felt too empty. Cold. The stinging phantom smell of alcohol and blood slid up her nostril

The door opened and shut. "Evening! I smell cocoa!" Colin meowed from the entryway. He quickly threw his coat to the rack and peeked his head into the kitchen. Amalia blinked and tried to shake the anxiety away. She picked her claws off the table subtly enough to seem casual, and smiled to the young tom. She took a breath and started purring. "Oh, yes. I put your cup on the table right here. Go wash up first sweetie". He was always a bit ruffled up after practice, considering what kind of sport football was like. Amalia found it a bit too intense and always worried about Colin getting hurt amongst the kicking and tackling. "Yes ma'am", he trilled, making his way to the bathroom. Once he was out of sight, she glanced out the window again. The group had left.

Stella changed her reading position. Judging by the neckpain and the heaviness of her eyelids, she'd probably have to put away her book soon. And she decided to do it now before she got lost in the charmingly papery pages of her vintage reading. She tucked it on it's designated place on the shelf, right between two other books. She was very happy with the collection she'd amassed thus far.

She stretched, mind still swimming in the mythical stories of old. She absently looked out the window. It was dark, except for her reading light. The house was quiet. She knew she had places to be tomorrow morning, but didn't feel like being there just yet. She wanted to savor the rare moments of peace and freedom that, unfortunately, mostly happened during the late hours. Her eyes, as if on instinct, looked for the moon. She remembers going outside every day for weeks on end, just to look at it with a periscope. It had offered her some semblance of comfort, getting to see where her brother was kept. She knew it was virtually impossible to go see him in person. The phone calls around New years were always emotional.

She didn't see it. Must've been the time of month. She decided not to devote any brain power to worrying, and just sat there. No stars were visible through the light pollution, but that wasn't new.

She slowly and begrudgingly changed into her pajamas and sat on her bed. Jeremy was also a night owl, wasn't he? He'd always be fixated on something random, like cleaning some closet in his room, or looking up monster sightings in their area, or how toffee was made. She smiled a little, though it was gone in a second as longing pricked her chest. For the thousandth time she went through all the thoughts of denial and disbelief. Ones like "He's such a sweet guy, he wouldn't just straight up kill a person", "There's no way he got into a guarded building unassisted. What if it was staged?", or "Where did he even get a farmer's stunner that strong, they're only available in very specific, company oriented businesses". She swiped the thoughts away and forcibly tucked herself to bed. She'd cried enough over it, and decided to let life be as it was right now, whether she liked it or not.

Things don't always work out how you want them to