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scudevils · 3 months ago

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burning love — OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (slight frat au)

warnings: sexual content (no smut), swearing, oscar and reader are in denial, a lot of talking, alcohol and the consumption of (please please drink responsibly!!), daniel is thee party man because why not, not proofread!!

synopsis: all it takes is a halloween party [3.5k]

a/n: definitely not the fic i was planning on coming back with but enjoy!!

oscar and you were just friends.

no matter how many times you told people that, no matter how many times they asked, you still felt your heart tighten as you answered the same every time, "just friends" lingered on your tongue like poison.

you'd grown up together, from the same part of australia up until you'd both moved to america for college, your parents were friends, and you'd seen each other's awkward stages and subsequent glow-ups. it would've been a shock if you hadn't become friends. but that was all you were.

you and oscar were just friends.

that's what you told everyone, and most importantly that's what you had to tell yourselves.

over the years, after the notorious party boys had graduated, daniel had grown a sort of reputation for having the best parties. the idea that if you hadn't been at a DR party then had you even ever been at a party? everyone who was everyone had been invited to at least one of them, hell half of the people there weren't even invited.

his halloween parties were no different, with the addition of costumes that is. that was his only rule, you have to come dressed up.

this year had been no different to the previous, people flooded the entrance to his house, in all sorts of costumes, and you lost count of the black cats you'd seen. halloween had never been "your holiday" until coming to college, and meeting daniel, that was when you started understanding the real message of halloween, dress up in your sluttiest outfits and drink till you were blackout.

this year you'd gone as princess peach, donning a pretty baby pink dress, white gloves covering just below your elbow and a dainty crown sitting on your head.

music was bouncing off the walls of the ricciardo house, pouring out into the backyard where it seemed to be even more crowded. the rooms had been filled with people dancing, red solo cups resting in the hands of the dancers and occasionally being drunk. a beer pong table had been set up in one of daniels spare rooms, accumulating quite the crowd.

the house had been littered with halloween decorations, some cheesy ones in true daniel style, skeletons popping out as you walked past them, an abundance of pumpkins, and ghosts poking out of corners in a sad attempt to scare someone. everyone was appreciating the most important decorations, witches' cauldrons filled with whatever alcohol danniel could find, lined up in an array of colours it was a mystery to every drink you had.

there hadn't been a sober person on the property, and the least sober of them all had to be the host himself. daniel had somehow forced some of the other drunk guys into a pool tournament, the 10 of them taking the game much too seriously with the prize only being about a hundred dollars, but to broke college kids that was like winning the lottery.

amongst the pool players were charles and pierre in a team, then lando and carlos playing against the two best friends. the game had gotten the attention of more people with a large group of people now gathered around watching. oscar looked on from the sideline, either not having a partner or he'd been abandoned by them.

you took this as your opportunity to sneak into daniel’s kitchen whilst the majority of the crowd was gone. a large stack of solo cups was stacked in the corner waiting to the used, the plastic cauldrons looking nearly close to breaking with the amount of liquid in them. you took a leap of faith, filling your cup up with whatever was in the pink cauldron.

you grabbed two of the cups you filled, one with the pink and one with the orange. the instant whiff of alcohol hit you, cringing at the smell, you drank what was in the cup, tasting both of them before you ultimately settled on the pink being the best of the two, although neither you would choose again.

despite the initial taste, you'd grown to like the flavour on your walk back into the headache of a room. there were never any rules at daniel’s parties, minus the illegal stuff, and maybe that was why everyone loved them so much, people were enjoying themselves as you could see the couples in the corners of the room practically dry-humping each other. it didn't matter how much of a mess was made, by the end of the next day the house was practically spotless again.

you eventually squeezed your way through the wall of onlookers and over to the group by the pool table, your friend alex chatting away to charles as he'd already been beaten. oscar was the first to notice you, he almost always was, resting the pool cue against the side of the table as he brought you in for a side hug, conscious of the drinks in your hand. "i knew i'd seen you."

the other boys, even in their drunken state, made a point to say hi to you, alex and kika waving you over to them by the other end of the table. you passed the orange drink to oscar, muttering a quick "i'll be back in a minute" before making your way over to the girls.

"you're finally here!" kika exclaimed, giving you a quick hug before alex followed suit. all of you had been in matching costumes, you as peach, alex as daisy and kika as rosalina. you weren't sure how, but they'd both somehow gotten charles and pierre to dress up as luigi and toad. "you look hot by the way, pink is your colour."

"you're making me blush, look at you guys!"

“you know, a certain someone is dressed as mario.” alex gave you a sly look, as if she knew something that you didn’t, and you couldn’t help but grow warm with the implication, that you’d already seen his costume, choosing to ignore the coincidence and just put it as him having the last choice in the group.

“i’m leaving now.” you smiled sarcastically at them, their laughs sending you off as you watched oscar scuff his shot, the cue grazing the top of the white ball. "you've always been shit at pool."

oscar laughed at your words, not ready to deny them since he knew it was true, dimples accenting his smile. "cause you taught me." as he drank whatever the hell was in the orange drink you saw his reaction nearly the same as yours. "that's fucking disgusting."

"why do you think i gave it to you." you could tell oscar had already been drinking before you got there, his movement a little shaky as he lined up his shot, and his reluctance to get another drink instead of putting up with what you’d given him. somehow he had managed to pot a ball, jokingly giving you a 'that was for you' celebration.

a little over a cup and a half later you couldn't deny that you were already feeling buzzed, the strong drink working its way through your body as you were still watching them play pool. you jumped down from the table you were sitting on, steading your balance for a second before walking over to oscar. "i’m gonna get a drink with alex, want another?"

you really should have cut him off there, he was already in the talking complete nonsense stage, rambling something about how he wanted timtams but was outraged they didn’t have them here. but instead when he nodded yes, you got him another.

alex had grabbed your hand, practically dragging you into the kitchen before everyone else had the same idea for a top-up. "so...tell me when you'll finally get together." she grabbed another cup before filling it up with the mix of pink and blue cauldrons, she was definitely going to be sorry tomorrow for tonight's actions.

you could almost feel yourself sobering up from her words alone, surely you weren't yet drunk enough to answer that question. instead, you let your intoxicated mind take over. "when he grows a pair of balls and asks me." you took the newly filled up cups from her hands muttering a 'thank you'.

"better be soon then, i've been annoying charles about double dates for months." you couldn't help but laugh at the thought of a double date with charles and alex something you wouldn't have imagined even in your drunkest of states.

you and alex had spent another 10 or so minutes catching up with everything, no matter how many times you'd seen her the time you spent apart always seemed to have something interesting happen to the other that you both just had to share.

the moment you’d left the kitchen you could have kissed alex for choosing the best time to go, not that charles would have been very happy about it, there being a very unorganised line leading up to get a drink refill.

and yet somehow no matter how much time you were away the game of pool never seemed to be ending.

"can you both just admit you’re awful at pool and we can end this?" just as you spoke oscar completely missed his shot, barely even touching white. he glared over his shoulder at you, something you returned with a sweet smile before handing him the cup. "seriously think alex and I would do better."

oscar scoffed at your words but still handed you the pool cue and charles followed by giving his to alex. you took one last gulp of your drink, your body not even acknowledging the burning anymore and lined up the shot oscar had horribly missed. you didn't pot it, but at least, unlike him, you had actually hit the ball.

instead when alex took the shot, she’d potted with her first go, going even further by potting the next two in one shot. "told you we'd be better."

the rest of the night had truly been a blur, you had spent so much of it dancing with alex and kika and god knows who else, it all blended into one big memory, all you knew was that your body was tired and needed another drink.

at some point you had felt a somewhat familiar pair of hands on your hips, pulling you closer to whoever it was behind you. you couldn't help but melt into their touch, it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. the feeling of calloused fingers digging into the soft, warm, skin of your hips was addicting.

you tilted your head back against their neck, looking up to find oscar’s eyes staring back at you. nothing was said between the two of you, the unspoken tension was obvious, so repressed by both of you that the slightest bit of alcohol revoked all ounce of self-control the two of you had when it came to each other.

the heat rose in your cheek when you felt his hand moving further down your body, down your thighs and playing with the ends of your flimsy dress. in some way he was pulling it down for you, making sure everyone in there knew you were off limits. the crown of your head started to feel almost childish now, but his hand caught yours as you went to remove it, a kiss being placed on the inside of your wrist before he brought it down to the side of your body.

neither of you said anything, your actions speaking for themselves when you wrapped an arm around his neck. you wanted him, he wanted you. and you both had for a while.

the alcohol pulsing through your veins influenced your next move, bringing yourself flush against oscar’s chest. his hands were still on your waist, your arms still wrapped around his neck. "oscar..." his name was barely above a whisper, but it had never sounded so good coming out of anyone else's mouth.

although, like all good things are, your moment with oscar had been so rudely interrupted by a drunk lando, practically bouncing off the walls as he failed to read the situation. "hey guys daniel wanted to play-" he looked up at the two of you, having to do a double take before continuing. "uhm he wanted to never have i ever...but i'll tell him you're busy."

you could only hope that by the next morning, the headache lando would have would be enough for him to not want to remember the night before. it was awkward as soon as lando left you, quickly unwrapping your arms from around oscar’s neck and pulling yourself off him. you wanted to say something, but instead, you left him standing there, muttering to yourselves as you walked back to kika and alex.

this was the last of daniels traditions he insisted you did every year, was it childish? yes. but have you all done it since your freshman year? also yes. the communal game of 'never have i ever' which never seemed to end had just begun and you have never wished to be somewhere else than, in a drunken thought you wished the witch decorations to be real and that they could transport you anywhere else but here.

the questions had started off as basic as they alway did, the real fun ones coming just about halfway through when everyone was far too drunk to have any dignity left, but you think you’d lost yours long ago.

and of course, daniel had been the one to first ask this type of question, he had a reputation to uphold. "never have i ever...made a sex tape." he wiggled his eyebrows as he asked, with a couple of the players drank, leaving daniel looking a bit deflated. "thought i was gonna get more people."

the next question had fallen to charles, who had been getting the death glare from alex the whole time, as if to warn him not to mention anything that could be tied to her. "never have i ever had sex...in public."

you lifted the red cup to your lips, watching as other people also drank before throwing some of the alcohol back. daniel had also drunk for this round, but the person that had surprised you was oscar, his eyes meeting yours from across the room as he drank, almost tauntingly he swallowed hard.

finally, you had been next for the question, a smirk on your face as you knew someone who would be drinking for this one, and an apology you were definitely going to be making tomorrow. "never have i ever been tied up." it was now your turn to receive the glare from alex, you mock cheersing the cup towards her before both of you drank.

a couple other people had passed by, the circle getting smaller as people began leaving. just as the game was coming to an end, unfortunately for you, kika had been given the job of the last question. "never have i ever thought about someone else while having sex." the girls both looked over to you, your talk the other week someone fresh in their intoxicated minds as alex gave you a smug smile, cheersing you as you had her.

"i really hate you, you know." you let your neck fall into the crook of her neck after drinking, the couches littered with empty cups really not the most comfortable thing to sit on.

alex rested her head on top of yours. "no you don't."

you’d been drunk many times before, lost count of the hours spent over at daniel’s, but this was definitely up there with the most drunk you have ever been. the coloured drinks were definitely hitting you now, a wave of tiredness crashing over you as you looked for a place to sleep for the night. another reason that everyone preferred daniel’s parties; the never-ending amount of sleeping space for those who wanted to stay over and if you were quick enough you got one of the guest bedrooms.

unfortunately for you, your fellow aussie had gotten to the last available room mere seconds before you. oscar had given you a smug look, or tried to his drunken smile mostly took over, he never was good at making faces other than smiles.

you chose to completely ignore him, pushing past oscar whilst he stood in the doorway and falling back against the bed. it wouldn't be the first time you and oscar had shared a room, shared a bed too, and most likely would not be the last.

the thought of taking off your makeup hadn't even crossed your mind, already getting comfortable on top on the covers to be dealing with tomorrow's problems, the dress you had on starting to become uncomfortable with the heat in the room. uou felt the dip in the mattress as oscar joined you, only underneath the covers.

"can i tell you a secret?" oscar’s body was already facing towards yours when you turned your head to look at him, nodding your head. "there's this girl."

"oscar-" his name was like a breath of air through your lips, too tired to hear any of his girl problems, and especially not after what had happened earlier.

his hand lightly traced up the side of your leg, goosebumps rising on the exposed skin. "let me talk, she has to know how i feel." your skin was on fire under his touch, the contrast with his cold hand on your thigh, fingers meeting the delicate lace of the stocking you had on. "i think she's the most beautiful girl i've ever seen, i know sorry, she's funny too, got an attitude on her."

even in the darkness of the room you could see oscar smiling at you, a smile that had butterflies swarming in your stomach and a warm blush on your cheeks, matching his own reddening cheeks you couldn’t help but find adorable. "everyone thinks she's the one for me, mum says that she has been since we were little." oscar’s hand now rested on your waist, his body inching closer towards yours as he spoke.

"and i think i agree with her," you felt his hand now cupping your cheek, leaning into his soft touch like it was almost instinctual, feeling the coolness of his hands against your hot skin. "don't you?" hip lips were just barely brushing against yours now, so close that you could feel them tauntingly graze yours as he spoke.

any attempt to regulate your breathing again had been flung out the window, the closeness of oscar mixed with the alcohol rushing through your blood had your head spinning. "i do." you could barely muster the words before pressing your lips against his, instantly being able to taste the liquor on his tongue. quick to move, you straddled his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed your thighs.

he pulled you on top, already moving the sheets down to have you directly against him. “fucking perfect." his words were mumbled against your neck as he kissed down it, skin flush from the warmth in the room and the blush creeping down, knocking back your head with one of his hands to give him more access.

your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair as he nipped at your skin, making sure to leave marks, letting everyone know he finally made the move. his lips were back on yours, never being able to get over the feeling of finally being able to kiss you. "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do this."

"then you don't mind if i skip straight to fucking you?" your words took him back for a few seconds like his brain was short-circuiting with the soft look on your face contrasting your lewd words.

he was quick to nod his head yes. "don't think i can wait any longer.” oscar made quick work in bundling your dress above your hips, exposing your white lacy panties. you could already feel how hard he was against you, rolling your hips against him, his hands having to force you to stop the movement as he was muttering to himself under his breath. the sound of his groans engraved in your memory.

oscar teased his hand down your stomach, the dress now only covering your midriff as he pulled down the neckline, your matching white bralette poking out from underneath the baby pink fabric. he dipped his fingers under the waistband of your panties, any other man and you’d been embarrassed with how turned on you were, but you’d waited too fucking long for him to care. "fuck, how did i get so lucky." he took off the lace in one move, turning his attention back to your lips, not being able to stay away from them since he’d first kissed you.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri x you #f1 #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #fanfic #scudevils

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athenamikaelson · 6 months ago

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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 7

Word Count- 5.3k

Warnings- Swearing, stabbing, Elijah wanting to hold hands, witch trials

A/N- KLAUS NEXT CHAPTER BABIES!!!

“I don’t understand why you grown men keep dragging me into your shit,” I groan to Alaric as he parks his car. I cling to my seatbelt and regret ever answering my phone this morning. I really just have to throw my phone away at this point.

“I don’t trust him around Jenna, Y/n. I have a bad feeling about the guy,” Ric says as he undoes his seatbelt and begins to exit the car.

“That or are you just jealous?”

I raise an eyebrow and purse my lips at him and he leans down to stare at me with an annoyed look.

“Get out of the car Y/N.”

I watch as Ric makes his way from his side of the car to mine, but just as he’s about to open my door I press down the lock from the inside. I smirk at him as he tries to open the door but it doesn’t budge. He stares down at me annoyed and then presses his key fob unlocking the car. He tries to open the door but I mimic my actions from before and lock the car again. We continue doing this for another 2 minutes before Ric gets the better of me and throws open my door.

“Seriously, Y/n!”

I huff and practically crawl out of the car.

“For the record, I would rather jump in front of a train than be here,” I say matter-of-factly to Ric as we catch sight of Jenna and Elijah walking up a grass path together.

“For the record,” Ric waves at them and then turns his head towards me, “I don’t care.”

Once again I groan as we make our way towards Jenna and Elijah. I lock eyes with the latter and he sends me a warm smile. I don’t reciprocate and quickly turn my eyes towards Jenna. I can still feel Elijah’s eyes on me, as always, as we stand in front of Jenna and him.

“Uh, Elijah, this is my friend,” Jenna, who seems to be annoyed, introduces Alaric to Elijah, “Alaric Saltzman. And you’ve already met Y/N,” Jenna turns to me and seems much more happy to see me.

Ric who can’t seem to catch a clue speaks, “Ya, I got your, uh, message about walking Elijah here through the old property lines. I thought I, uh we,” He gestures to me, “would, uh, tag along. You know us being history buffs and all. Where to next?”

An awkward silence follows for a moment before Elijah breaks it, “I’m pretty curious about the freed slave property owners. Some say, you know, the descendants of the slaves are the true keepers of American history.”

I am almost one hundred percent sure Mr. Suit and Tie has an ulterior motive but Jenna doesn’t seem to catch it as she tells him she has the stuff in her car and that she’ll go grab it. I watch as she walks away and then turn back to the two men next to me. Elijah stands about a foot's width away from me while Ric is to my right. Ric must’ve noticed Elijah’s staring as he moved himself in front of me. If you didn’t want me to be around Elijah why bring me here? Dumbass.

I can still see Elijah from over Ric’s shoulder and the movement Ric made doesn’t seem to sit well with Elijah as a small twitch in his upper lip presents into a snarl. He drops back into a neutral look almost instantly.

“So you’re one of those people on Elena’s list of loved ones to protect,” Elijah says to Ric. Even though Elijah is relatively shorter than Ric the aura Elijah protrudes makes up for it. Anyone could tell that even though Ric is trying to put up a macho front, he’s afraid of Elijah.

“So is Jenna.”

Elijah smirks at Alaric and then shakes his head slightly, “You don’t have to be jealous. I don’t really pursue younger women,” Elijah’s eyes trail to mine momentarily, “Most of the time.”

Elijah turns back to Ric and they stare at each other for a moment before Elijah pats Ric on the shoulder, “It’s a joke, Ric, lighten up.”

Ric rolls his eyes and nods.

“Wait,” I speak and turn to Elijah, “Technically isn’t every woman younger than you? You know, since you’re like old. Really old. ”

Ric just brings a hand up to massage the tension between his eyebrows and sighs deeply, but Elijah lets out a small chuckle that sends shocks down my spine.

“I guess you’re right Y/N. I am really old,” He mimics my tone with a small smile on his face.

—

35 minutes. We’ve been walking in this dirty ass forest for 35 minutes. I should be in bed asleep right now. But nope, here I am following behind three adults as they talk about history. It’s not that I don’t like history, I do, it’s just that it’s a Saturday. I shouldn’t be learning things on a weekend.

I half-heartedly listen to what Jenna is telling Elijah as we cross over a bunch of fallen tree logs. Alaric helps Jenna over one, and I don’t miss the dirty look she looks she shoots him, making me try to cover my giggle with my hand. The giggling instantly stops though when I see Elijah standing by the front of the log with his hand outstretched towards me. We haven’t talked in these 35 minutes since Jenna has been occupying him, but that hasn’t stopped him from turning back every few moments to catch a glimpse of me, as if he thinks I’m just going to disappear into thin air. Honestly, I wish I would.

I’m not going to use Elijah’s help but realize that my clumsy ass would probably fall over the log if I didn’t. So I lightly place my hand into his, which results in him closing his hand over mine. Locking our hands together. Our hands are locked for a long moment before Ric clears his throat from the other side of the log. I quickly look away from Elijah and use his hand to get over the log carefully. I soon as I get over it though I wrench my hand away from his and walk over to Jenna who sends me a warm smile.

“Seems like someone is fond of you,” She whispers to me as she raises his eyebrows suggestively.

I can already feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks as I stare at her horrified. Jenna just laughs at my face as she starts leading us farther down the trail we’re on. Sadly though, Alaric has occupied Jenna, which leaves Elijah to walk next to me.

Elijah’s quiet for a moment, seemingly just enjoying my company before he starts speaking, “Is it true what Alaric says,” I turn to him confused, “That you’re a history buff?”

I sigh slightly as I shrug my shoulders realizing that just talking to the guy might make this little trip go by a little faster.

“I wouldn't call myself a buff,” I use my fingers to make air quotes, “but it’s also not something I dislike. Learning about how our world was made and all the small factors of why it was made are quite intriguing. I also like weird history.”

“Weird history,” Elijah questions me with a frown.

“You know, like the unexplained, or the odd things in history that many don’t understand,” At the still confused look on his face I continue, “You know like the dancing plague of 1518, D.B Cooper, or Oh! The lost colony of Roanoke. That’s probably my most favorite.”

Once I realized that I had just gone on a tangent I went to apologize to Elijah but when I look at him all I can see on his face is pure adoration. The type of adoration that makes the beating in my chest stops. He smiles at me and from being so close to him I notice the small dimple on his left cheek.

“I understand now,” Elijah says, “You seem to be most interested in The Roanoke Colony. Why is that?”

I ponder his question for a moment, “I’m not sure, it’s just something I’ve always been drawn to. Maybe because of how mysterious and odd it is. I’m not sure, I know that some people say it was aliens or cannibalism but there isn’t a known answer. It’s amazing to me that so many people, an entire village, can go missing and there are no clues. Other than the word Croatoan!”

Elijah nods his head along but the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face tells me he’s hiding something. Wait. Holy shit.

I whip around to him stopping us, “You know, don’t you! I mean you’re old enough but I didn’t even think you would…,” I stop and stare at him in awe for a moment, “You have to tell me.”

Elijah opens his mouth but then I shake my head and throw a hand up to his mouth stopping him, “Wait! No, what if you tell me and it ends up disappointing me.”

I go through all the possibilities in my head at what he could tell me and then fight myself on whether I should have him tell me or not. I can feel Elijah’s smile behind my hand and bring my hand back.

“Sorry,” I wince embarrassed.

“No worries, I enjoy seeing you so full of life,” I blush at his words, “Would you like me to tell you?”

I think about Elijah’s question for a moment and then shake my head, “No. I think the reason I love that moment in history so much is because of the mystery behind it. I don’t want to lose interest in it by knowing.”

Elijah seems pleased with my answer and nods, “Very well.”

We continue walking for another moment before Elijah chimes up again, “What else interests you?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Nothing much, I’m not a very interesting person.”

“I highly doubt that.”

I smile slightly at his comment, “Well I like reading. That’s actually something Elena and I have bonded on. I used to get bullied for being a book nerd but now having someone who likes it too is comforting.”

At this mention of Elena, Elijah’s smile drops slightly but then turns into a small frown.

“I’m sorry that you were bullied for reading, as a literature connoisseur myself I find it quite depressing how reading has become something so rare in these past decades. What types of books do you read?”

I nod along to Elijah’s words until he asks what books I read. At this, I instantly get red and look anywhere other than him.

“You know,” I try to find a socially acceptable answer. Not really wanting to tell this 1,000-year-old man I spend my free time reading smut, “Literature.”

“Literature?”

Elijah looks at me with a smirk on his handsome features and I just nod and clear my throat, “Yep, literature. Just all the literature.”

“What about you? What literature do you like?”

Elijah laughs slightly at my change in subject, “Literature in general as well,” I roll my eyes at his joke, “But also I appreciate all types, Historical, the classics, thriller, even romance.”

“You read romance,” I ask surprised.

He nods his head, “On occasion. There’s something so unique about how different authors portray love and devotion. Where some show it as a neverending, intense emotion others show it as one’s demise.”

“And which do you believe?”

This question has Elijah pausing momentarily, thinking, “I’ve lived a long time, Elskan. Seen people start wars in the name of love, and seen people kill and die in its name aswell. To choose just one thought when it comes to the idea of love is something I can not do. What about you, what are your thoughts on love?”

“I want nothing to do with it.”

Elijah goes quiet for a moment at my answer. I face back forward and we keep walking in silence for another moment.

“I understand your reluctance towards it. But still young why cut off something like love at your age?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. My age has nothing to do with my hatred and distaste for love.

“Don’t tell me all that romance you read is getting to your head, Elijah,” I say to him slightly snarky.

“I’ve struck a nerve,” Elijah says as he nods his head.

“Nope. No nerves struck here,” I tell him picking up my speed and walking away from him. He doesn’t have to try hard to meet my speed though as he falls back into step with me.

“Even though there have been no nerves struck,” He tries to lighten the tension with a joke, “I must apologize for overstepping. As I’ve said before, making you uncomfortable is the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

I move my gaze from Jenna’s back, who is currently in a small argument with Alaric, and turn to look at Elijah. Once again his face has no signs of malice or ill intent.

“It’s fine,” I shrug at him, “Like I said no struck nerves.”

Elijah slightly laughs and then nods his head. We walk for another 5 minutes in silence, Elijah helps me over logs and rocks whenever we come up to one.

“Y/N and I should be heading back now,” Alaric tells the group as we get to a clearing.

I nod, happy to be getting out of these woods.

“Well, thank you Y/N for coming today, I’m sure you had more exciting things to do today,” Jenna smiles at me and jokes.

“Just sleeping. But it was nice to see you Jenna,” I reluctantly look over to Elijah who hasn’t left my side, “You as well.”

This has Elijah’s deflated shoulders rising again. He almost reminds me of a dog that is happy someone is finally giving it an ounce of attention.

“It was a pleasure to be able to spend this morning with you, Y/N,” I’ve noticed that Elijah calls me by my actual name when other people are around. But, when it is just him and I, he uses that stupid nickname.

I nod as I go to follow Alaric back to the car but stop and turn back to Elijah, “I guess I’m not one-hundred percent against love,” This perks Elijah up, “I mean I totally loved the dress I wore to the tea party.”

Elijah lets out a deep chuckle that rattles his broad shoulders, “You weren’t the only one.”

I almost choke on my saliva at his words. Elijah’s smirk deepens and I put my lips together and nod my head fast.

“Well, um. I’ll be going now,” I don’t give Elijah time to respond as I speed walk past him and Jenna and grab Ric’s forearm pulling him roughly behind me.

“Keep up,” I whisper yell at him as we speed walk our way to the car.

—

The original plan was that Ric and I would go on that stupid history walk and then after 30 minutes he would bring me back to my house, but of course, no one in this god-forsaken town follows any type of deal. So that’s why I am currently sitting in front of Demon and his “girlfriend,” and next to Ric who are talking about Elijah and how they don’t trust him. Thankfully Damon bought me fries so this whole trip hasn’t been an entire waste. I half-ass listen to their conversation but don’t really care so I don’t process a word they’re saying, at least not until Damon perks up.

I’ve come to learn from my time in knowing Demon that if I see him getting excited about something, someone is going to get hurt.

So that’s why I follow his line of sight and see Elijah and Jenna walk into the Grill together.

“Ah, there Jenna with her new boyfriend,” Damon says. I know he’s just trying to get a reaction out of Ric but something about that sentence makes my skin crawl.

Damon calls over both of them. Jenna welcomes all of us with a smile and wave while Elijah trails behind her looking complacent. As always his eyes find mine and his complacent smile lightens.

“So I hear you two had a meeting of the historical minds today,” Damon speaks to the two.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Jenna smiles looking up at Elijah who is now looking down at Demon.

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue this, I, uh, I’ve got papers to grade and a teenager to get home,” Ric gets up from his seat and he gestures to me. I frown as I see my fries still half full and quickly grab a fist full and fill my mouth trying to get away with as many as possible, almost choking myself in the meantime. The adults around me watch me with a mix of amusement and slight disgust, but I don't care. I’m not wasting free food.

“No, you know what,” Alex or Stephanie or whatever Demon’s girlfriend is named, chirps up, “We should continue this. Let’s have a dinner party!”

Hell to the no.

“Ooh, my girl. Full of good ideas,” Damon looks over to her before turning back to us, “I’ll be happy to host. Say tonight. Maybe?”

“It’s good for me. Jenna,” Where Alessia agrees Ric tries to disagree.

“Yeah, I’m free,” Jenna talks over Ric. Yikes.

“Will the lovely Y/N be there,” Elijah asks me and I try to tell him, “Hell no,” but the fries in my mouth have left me mute.

“Of course, she’ll be there,” Damon exclaims as if there isn’t any other place I’d rather be. I send him a nasty glare which earns me a wink in return.

“Then it’d be a pleasure.”

Damon’s smile is all but welcoming as he responds to Elijah, “Great.”

This is going to be a horrible night.

—

This is a horrible night.

First I get a nasty grade on my modern art project. Not my fault, since modern art is a crime against humanity.

Then, I try to find a dress for this stupid dinner and the only half-decent dress that I have now is two inches too short.

And then after I said screw it, put the dress on and finished getting ready. I went down to my car only to find out that my front tire had gone flat. Honestly in this case I was happy about it because I had a reason to cancel, but when I called Jenna and told her the “upsetting” news, she told me she’d come pick me up. Great.

So now I’ve been sitting on my front porch waiting for Jenna. After waiting for fifteen minutes I was close to just calling it quits and telling Jenna the fries from earlier made me throw up on myself. But, right when I stand up a dark sedan pulls into my driveway. Wait. I know that sedan. Damnit. Why the hell is Elijah here?

As if he could read my thoughts Elijah pretty much glides out of his car looking practically god-like in yet another five-thousand-dollar suit and smiles at me.

“Good evening, Elskan,” Elijah walks up the walkway to stand before me, “Miss. Sommers so kindly asked me if I could escort you to the dinner tonight. To which I happily obliged.”

“Right,” I sigh, “Let’s just get this night over with.”

I walk to Elijah’s car as he follows me, just like before he opens the door for me. I send him an appreciative nod and get in. After another moment we’re driving down the dark road towards the boarding house.

“You look breathtaking, Elskan,” Elijah says to me from his position in the driver’s seat.

“Thanks,” I turn to him and look at his usual attire, “You look the same.”

He chuckles, “Yes, you always seem to remind me of my attire. Thank you for that.”

“Always here to help.”

We drive in comfortable silence for the entirety of the trip until we get to the Salvatore’s driveway.

“How are you feeling about tonight,” Elijah’s tone is flat but as he looks at me his eyes are filled with what I believe to be suspicion.

“You mean, do I think something bad is going to happen?”

Elijah’s upper lip twitches, “Aren’t you a smart one? But yes, I am not going to threaten you Elskan. I would never do that, but,” At that, I’m tensing in my seat, “I need to know if your friends are planning something, unbecoming, tonight.”

At Elijah’s serious tone, I shake my head, “I don’t know anything. Promise,” Elijah doesn’t seem to be entirely pleased with my answer, and something in me wants to fix that, “But, I do know that Damon is not one to have friendly dinner parties so,” I look at him uneased but speak in a strong voice, “Be on your guard tonight.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Elskan.”

—

Elijah and I stand side by side as he knocks on the front door. We wait only a moment before a smirking Demon opens it up,

“Thank you both for coming,” Damon says a little too nicely, “Y/N don’t you look adorable. Come on in!”

Elijah places his hand on my lower back, “Just one moment. Can I just say that if you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider.”

“No, nothing, nothing dishonorable. Just, uh, getting to know you.”

“Hmm, well, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” I watch this back and forth waiting for something bad to happen.

“Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal if you so much as make a move to cross me I’ll kill you and I’ll kill everyone in this house,” And there it is, “Except Y/N and Miss. Sommers of course. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Damon eyes Elijah wearily. And then Elijah leads me into the house as Jenna enters the room.

“Jenna, wonderful to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m seriously getting whiplash from you man,” I whisper so only Elijah will hear. The only response I get is a slight squeeze to my waist as he pulls me closer and away from everyone else who has entered the room to greet us. His right-hand stays resting on my upper hip.

“Let’s eat.”

—

“I hate to break it to you, Damon,” Jenna says to Damon as she pours him a glass of wine, “But according to Elijah your family is so not a founder of this town.”

“Hmm, do tell,” Damon responds. Damon sits at the head of the table sipping his wine as he stares at Elijah, who is currently sitting next to me on my right. Alaric sits to my left and Jenna and Abby sit across from us. I should really learn her name. There’s also this balding white man who is sitting across from Damon at the other end of the table but no one here seems to want him here.

“Well, as I mentioned to Jenna earlier a faction of settlers migrated from Salem after the witch trial in the 1690s. Over the next hundred years, they developed this community where they could feel safe from persecution.”

“Hmm, because they were witches,” Jenna chimes in.

“Yeah, there’s no tangible proof there were witches in Salem.”

“Andies a journalist. Big on facts,” Oh, so that’s her name. I liked Andrea more.

“Well,” Elijah sets down his fork and starts talking again, “the lore says that there was this wave of anti-witch hysteria. It broke out in the neighboring settlement. So these witches were rounded up. They were tied to stakes in a field together and, uh, burned,” Elijah says as if it’s something anyone wants to hear while they’re eating steak dinner, “Some say you could hear the screams from miles around us. They were consumed by the fire. Could you pass the,” He gestures to the salt and Ric passes it to him wearily.

“I wouldn’t repeat this to the Historical Society,” Jenna says which has me wanting to roll my eyes at the mention of those bags.

“Maybe you should,” I say to myself but have seemed to catch the attention of the table. Shit.

“I’m just saying it would knock them down a peg, which is clearly needed,” I whisper out the last part, “Even though there is no proof of witches being burned at the stake during the trials. It was mostly done from self-drownings and using rocks.”

At my contradiction to Elijah’s statement he raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Self-drowning and rocks? How would that work,” Jenna questions with a slight stutter clearly having had a little too much wine.

“Well with the drowning it was more of a test,” I use fingerquotes at the word, “So to speak. The witch in question would be tossed into a body of water and if she was able to stay afloat she was condemned as a witch and was killed. But if she didn’t float, well. Y’know. So I mean either way it was just a way to punish women for being women. They used the rocks though to stone the people to death. Interestingly enough one of my ancestors was actually killed that way. R.I.P.”

I laugh at my little joke at the end which has earned me a few stares from the people at the table.

“Ok, moving past whatever that was,” Damon says as he turns back to Elijah, “So why do you want to know the location of these alleged massacres?”

Elijah thinks for a moment before smiling, “You know… a healthy historian’s curiosity, of course.”

“Of course,” Damon replies to Elijah who has already gone back to taking a bite out of his steak. I bring my glass of water to my lips and take a sip but start choking on it when I feel a hand gently grab my other one from under the table.

“Y/N! Are you ok,” Jenna exclaims from her side of the table as Ric pats me on the back, I put up a thumbs up and try to smile.

“Yep all good. Just,” I cough out a bit more, “went down the wrong pipe. Don’t mind me.”

Even though I almost choked, Elijah still hasn’t moved his hand from mine. Instead, his fingers have begun tracing shapes into my skin. I know I should feel disgusted, but I can’t seem to want to move his hand away. He looks at me momentarily as if to check I’m ok. To which I send him a small nod. This in return makes him smile and grab a hold of my hand more firmly now.

Damon's standing distracts me momentarily, “Does anyone care for some cognac? I have a bottle I’ve been saving for ages.”

God, me, please.

“None for me, thanks. Nine bottles of wine is my limit,” Alaric says as he downs yet another glass of wine. Jesus dude, try water sometime.

This has everyone standing from the table. Ok then, guess I’m done eating.

“The gentleman should take their drinks in the study,” Anna says.

“How 1950s of you Alice,” I smile at her sarcastically.

“My name is Andie,” She says back.

“Is that not what I said,” I smile at her as I walk past her into the study. I don’t even want to go in here with them but I’m doing it to stand on principle. And that I’m kind of an asshole. But that’s not my fault since I was awoken this morning before I was able to get my full 13 hours of shut eye.

—

My fingers graze the dozens of books I walk by as Damon and Elijah converse behind me. It surprises me that Damon has so many books, when he’s so dumb. Weird.

“Are these Stefan’s?”

Damon spares me a moment's glance, “No, they’re mine.”

I hum. Weird. Maybe he just doesn’t have comprehension skills.

“So, let me guess, in the addition to the moonstone, the doppelganger, the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe… You need to find this witch burial ground.”

“Because I feel as though we’ve grown so close, Damon,” Elijah’s words have me chuckling as I flip through a book that seems to be at least one hundred years old, “I’ll tell you yes. Do you know where it is?”

“Maybe,” Damon’s answer has Elijah walking over to him, “Tell me why it’s so important.”

“We’re not that close.”

Damon getting rejected has me snorting which catches Elijah’s attention as he smiles up to me. He notices the book I have in my hands and speaks again to Damon.

“It’s quite a collection you have here. It is a funny thing about books. Before they existed people actually had memories.”

I go to make a snarky comment at Elijah’s words but Ric comes storming into the study.

“Gentlemen,” I clear my throat and Ric looks at me, “And Y/N. We forgot about dessert.”

Addison comes over to Elijah and raises a hand for him to take, which has a nasty feeling starting in my gut. But before it goes too far Elijah turns to me instead and reaches out his own hand, “Y/N.”

I have to fight back a snort as we walk by Amelia Bedelia as Elijah leads me into the dining room where Jenna is.

“Sorry, guys, dessert is taking longer than I thought,” Jenna’s words have me physically deflating, “I usually just unwrap food.”

Elijah leads me to a chair and moves it so I can sit down. He sits next to me and Audrey sits across from us.

“So, I know this is a social thing but I, I would really love to ask you some more questions about the work that you’re doing here,” She asks Elijah who agrees. I’m quite interested in what he’s going to say since he’s created this big lie surrounding, Elijah Smith.

“Great,” She continues as Damon enters the room, “Oh, that’s so great. Ric, would you do me a favor and grab the notebook out of my bag?”

She instructs Ric as Elijah’s hand finds its way back to my hand.

“Elijah, did John tell you that he’s Elena’s uncle/father?’’

Damon’s question has me sitting up right.

“Huh?!”

I look between Damon and the balding man next to me and wonder how he was able to produce a girl as pretty as Elena. Also now I’m pissed and kind of sad no one has told me this before.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Even Elijah knows?!

“Of course, she hates him, so there’s absolutely no need to keep him on the endangered species list.”

Now I don’t feel bad for thinking he looked like Charlie Brown earlier.

Adeline says something to Ric but now my full focus is on Elijah's fingers which are now grazing up and down my hand that lays on my thigh.

I can hear Dead Beat saying something to Elijah but the words won’t focus as I try to calm my breathing. Elijah’s deep voice enters my ears as I hear him threatening the two men but the soft touching hasn’t gone away.

I’m almost comforted by the feeling now until the once soothing feeling is replaced by his hand crushing my thigh. My yells are mixed with what I’ve just now realized are Elijah’s as he crunches up in pain. A loud scream escapes my lips as I see a dagger protruding from Elijah’s back and can only watch in horror and pain as Elijah’s once soft and light skin turns to grey and veining flesh.

I blink rapidly as everyone moves around me but all I can focus on is Elijah’s dead body. Dead. Elijah’s dead. Oh god.

I feel someone grab my upper arm and drag me out of my seat, “What’s wrong with you?”

My breathing halts. My vision goes black and, my body hits the floor.

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solbaby7 · 4 months ago

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I love the blurb bar idea and I loved the pina colada one, how about a neat gin n tonic with a salt rim?

[ forced proximity: “you can’t seriously be insinuating that i should sit on your lap.” + smut + az ]

guys i got carried away 🫣🤭 but at least it’s finished and has minimal spelling errors 🤍🩷

-> BLURB BAR <-

To put it quite frankly, you and Azriel didn’t really get along.

It seemed almost easy for everyone else in the Inner Circle to latch onto him; to gravitate towards him and all his shadowy mysteriousness—but not you. Between his victim complex, lack of self-control and the inability to properly communicate his feelings like a normal person, you’d lost your patience for him long ago.

Maybe that’s why you laugh right in Rhysand’s face after he lays down the guidelines for your temporary deployment to the Steppes. Everything sounds perfectly normal up until the end when Rhysand’s lips form the words, “—and you’ll be going with Azriel; he’s already been briefed.”

“Very funny,” Shoulders shake through your laughter, tickled from the joke. “But, you don’t have to go to such lengths just to make me laugh Rhys.”

Your grin fades comically fast and the deep frown that takes it place doesn’t falter long after you’ve left the High Lord’s office and scrounged back to your own chambers to pack. Every move is mechanical, clothes being folded and stuffed away a little rougher than necessary as you try not to think about having to spend seven whole days holed up in a creaky cabin with some brooding bat.

To be fair, Azriel seems no happier than you about the situation, his signature brood securely in place when you meet on the balcony at the witching hour with bag in hand. “Come—let’s get this over with.”

You refrain from commenting on his attitude; hold yourself back from snapping when he snatches your duffle from your grasp just to watch it disappear in a puff of sentient shadow. They’d almost be cute—Azriel’s shadows—if they weren’t so fucking useless. Capable of procuring intel and acting as camouflage but can’t manage to hold two fae long enough to get them to the Illyrian mountains.

No, instead you were subjected to this. Close contact and his fucking hands holding onto your body as he flies on a route you’re unfamiliar with. You eye his wings cautiously, trying to be subtle when you peek over the strong line of his shoulder but being this close? He can feel every beat of your heart against your sternum. Every squirm and twitch of a limb as you try to find a more comfortable place to put your arm. “Will you stop moving?”

“I can’t help it,” Hips shift once more, one leg hitching just a little higher on his hip. “Your fucking daggers keep poking me.”

Azriel tenses up, muscles locking and suddenly you’re being moved how he pleases—both legs wrapped around his waist and a firm forearm clasped around the base of your spine. “Stay.” His voice is rougher than your used to, his blunt nails biting into the sliver of skin exposed to the elements. “Don’t move, we’re almost there.”

That was a lie—it would take hours to make it to the Steppes but the gruff command is surprisingly easy to follow. And while you’ll never verbally admit it, the secure bracketing of his arms around your body was more of a comfort than a nuisance. It’s all too easy to ease into his grasp, allowing sleep to take over until the journeys over and you swear you can feel him cradle you in closer, his nose ghosting over the crown of your head.

He makes absolutely no comment on it when you finally arrive with your hair ruffled, clothes crinkled and the imprint of Azriel’s syphon on your cheek other than a chuffed out, “You snore.”

Instinct screams at you to make some snappy comment back but reason doesn’t allow it to be voiced—not here. Here, you and Azriel would have to appear as a united front, for the males raised in this terrain were bred to sniff out any and all weaknesses to exploit. Only here do you allow the hand that permanently glues itself to the dip of your back, pushing you past rabid animals swollen with pride and snarling with hatred.

Slurs are spat from their lips but Azriel doesn’t pay them any mind, so you don’t either.

He walks through the camps as if he owns them, spine straight and shoulders square. Strong wings stand proudly behind him, shadows guarding your flank until the unforgiving chill is replaced by the stuffy warmth of a mess hall. It’s cramped—a little dirty and smells like a mixture of male and tobacco but either way you’re given a warm meal and fresh water to drink.

The vulgar comments grow more frequent, mutterings of their unwanted appreciation towards your body so sickening that your appetite threatens to scurry away. “They’re disgusting.” You scoff, setting down your tray of food, one hand curled around the chair.

It doesn’t give. Azriel’s boot curled around the leg holds it in place. Arched brows furrow at him, nose scrunching under the effort it takes not to kick him in his shin but there’s something about his body language that make you stop. “They’ll keep doing that shit if they think you’re free game.” Every syllable is clipped; laced with a wildness you’re unfamiliar with—almost as if he’s insinuating that it’s your fault that such brutish males were salivating at the sight of you. Darkness cloaks the hazel tones of his eyes when he meets your own and you nearly miss the gesture he makes.

One hand patting twice at his lap.

“Absolutely not.” Azriel’s boot shoves the seat away completely when you make a move to sit down on it once more. He settles deeper in his own, thick thighs manspreading as deft hands adjust the positioning of his holsters, guiding sharpened weapons away from the area of space he frees up for you. “You can’t seriously be insinuating that I should sit on your lap?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, this is me telling you—sit down.”

You pray he doesn’t see the blush that burns against your cheeks when you take a seat in his lap, his hands resting along the sides of your hips. He keeps eating as if nothing is new. As if he doesn’t realize the way his touch has you squirming against solid muscle through thick leathers, legs subconsciously parting to make more room for the wandering fingers that slide down your thighs, digging into sensitive inner thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, barely able to grab at the food before you with the way your hands shake.

“I’m sending a message.”

Breath catches when you feel Azriel’s thigh flex between your legs, pressing against your sex in such a way that you’re certain it’s impossible that he hadn’t felt the way you clench in response. “What kind of message?”

“The kind that says someone already owns you.” People are looking, that much you know—can feel their eyes tracking every move. Azriel’s hand splayed over your stomach, his head tucked in the curve of your shoulder as his free hand spies its way through your breeches. There’s a pause, one where you’re time to push him away, to declare that this was entirely too far and smack him clear across his face.

That doesn’t happen. Your legs only part further, making more room for needy fingers to shove past your panties.

It’s a foolish decision, you can feel it the second you make it. As if you’d just unconsciously confirmed the ridiculous notion that you were one of Azriel’s possessions. To do as he pleased. To sit there splayed out across his lap like some puppet and allow him to take the reins and show off all your tricks until you’re boneless and drooling.

He’s too good with his hands. Too slick with the sly filth he mutters into your ear as he fondles at your clit under the table, pressing firm circles into the bundle of nerves until you’re panting like a bitch in heat.

You barely remember how much you hate him when he touches you like this. Until the orgasm fades and your consciousness clears and even though the way you lean into the dip of his neck appears like some typical lovers embrace—bystanders fail to hear the sharp way you sneer, “Tell anyone about this ever and I’ll fucking kill you.”

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physalian · 10 months ago

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What No one Tells You about Writing Fantasy, #2!

I did this list about 7 annoyances about fantasy, but I write in this genre for a reason! Fantasy knows no bounds, it can encompass all other genres within it. You can write a fantastical murder mystery, fantasy horror, fantasy romance, political drama, slice-of-life, comedy, whatever you’d like!

Whether it’s urban or high fantasy, supernatural or scientific, here’s seven great benefits of writing in this genre:

1. No modern means of communication

Unless you’re writing a world with phones or phone-adjacent devices. Phones and instant communication seriously inhibits the plausibility of dramatic irony and tension when you have to keep coming up with reasons to keep your characters from calling or texting each other everything they know. It’s exhausting, I tell you, and such a relief when phones aren’t a factor.

With that said, without phones, you have complete freedom to design your own magical channels of supernatural FaceTime, as weird and zany as you want. But without instant connections? Your character who knew too much can’t pass on the intel before they die. Your hero team can’t call for backup in their darkest hour. Otherwise easily preventable tragedies and deadly miscommunications are now very real.

2. The Monster Allegory

Fantasy and sci-fi tend to overlap more than they’re set apart, and in that overlap sits the monster allegory. Everything from werewolves to vampires to witches, reapers, demons, angels, goblins, trolls, wraiths, fairies, mermaids, ghosts, to Eldritch horrors and your classic Hollywood cast of mummies, creatures from the black lagoon, and Frankenstein.

Most of the time, the monsters aren’t just monsters, they represent a monstrous aspect of society the author wants to challenge and caricaturize in a fun and entertaining way. Or, the monsters are the good guys and the humans are the real terrors. Or, you’ve got two kinds of monsters to allegory two human sides. Sometimes they represent metaphorical demons, like vampires often representing addiction and werewolves repressed identities.

What all of this boils down to is the hyperbolic nature of science fantasy that allows you to go over-the-top with your metaphor and allegory in a way that a book grounded in reality just can’t.

3. Magic Systems!

Do you love world building? Do you love filling pages upon pages with your cool and unique set of superpowers you want your characters to have? Do you dream about your fight scenes and dramatic slow-mo shots?

Then Fantasy is for you!

There are zero limits to how you want to define your magic system. You can go classic with the familiar archetypes of elemental magic, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Or you can step off the beaten path and design a whole new funky system of power sets. Best part? Your readers will have an awesome time imagining themselves with those powers, and debating endlessly about how it works.

4. Real-World Politics, who?

Amazon’s Rings of Power was twice-doomed when they only got the rights to adapt the appendices of The Silmarillion and when they decided to inject current political problems into a timeless story written purposefully to be divorced from those politics. You *can* write about human politics, but in fantasy, you don’t have to. You *can* interpret Lord of the Rings to be an allegory about the World Wars, but no matter how hard you argue, it wasn’t written with that intent.

Which means: Even if your story is set in the reality-adjacent fantasy version of 1543, you are free from the following: Racism, homophobia, sexism, religious bigotry, mental health bigotry, gender norms, anti-feminism, toxic masculinity, and more. “But that’s how it was-”

Nope. This is fantasy. You built this world, you decided to keep in the discrimination. Or… You can fill your fantasy world with a rainbow of gays, POCs in power, women in power, men unafraid to be compassionate and caring, a religion that doesn’t foster hate and division, the list goes on. You. Are. Free.

5. Nothing is too “unrealistic”

Both that you will always have people whining about how X would never happen so write the book you want to read, but also because fantasy is fake. Fairies aren’t real. Mermaids aren’t real. There are no rules for how they must be written and that’s how we have so much variety with so much room for interpretation by so many creators. Twilight made how much money writing about vampires that sparkle like diamonds in sunlight and crack like marble?

This is fantasy, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. Yes, your plot should make sense, but don’t be afraid to get weird. Write at least some of your story dependant on those fantasy elements. Write a story that can’t just be told in the real world minus the spectacle. Don’t be afraid to be sincerely fantastical and weird. People love weird. People love loving weird.

6. You are in complete control

But you do still need to research, unfortunately. Unless this is urban fantasy that depends at least a little on the human world, yours is completely your own to govern like a god tweezing weeds from their garden. You get to design your own geography and weather patterns and seasons. Your own countries and kingdoms and politicians. Your epic pre-canon fantasy war and the stakes that it was fought over. Your species, races, and ethnicities.

It’s a shame that a movie like Avatar (2009) set out to be this wholly unique take on aliens with music completely divorced from earthly bonds, new languages and a visually and culturally distinct alien species… and ended up a largely generic blue Pocahontas in space. It forgot that it was fantasy and didn’t go weird enough. They have horses, monkeys, wolves, rhinos, and deer just re-skinned with some extra limbs and colors. It’s pretty but it’s so, so shallow.

It could have become a cult classic like many a positively *weird* 80s off-beat fantasies, and now it just… exists. It makes a whole lot of money but its impact on the cultural zeitgeist is negligible. I’m the only person I know that can name every major character in the movie, and I’m no Avatar obsessor. They had complete creative control, and this is what they did with it. Don’t be Avatar. Take your creative freedom and run.

7. Even if it has been done before, do it again

You can say this about any genre, particularly romance, but fantasy and sci-fi, by the gatekeep-y nature of their fans, can be a lot less forgiving when it comes to claims of “unoriginality”. No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans. Fans of these genres can get… concerningly attached to their favorite stories (mostly because the people who like them had only their fictional heroes to protect them from very real bullies).

But Game of Thrones exists because the author likes Lord of the Rings and went “yes, but what if it was an R-rated parade of misery?” Dungeons and Dragons exists because people wanted to roleplay in an LotR-esque world. Legolas and Gimli single-handedly defined what a badass elf and dwarf looks like in high fantasy. And people still gobble up media ripping shamelessly, or even good-naturedly, from this one story.

So on my other list, I argued that the sum of your parts is still original, even if the components aren’t. On this list, I implore you this: It’s not stealing or appropriating to write another Legolas if you love Legolas. Everyone loves Legolas. How many generic buff action heroes do we have and love? How many Hallmark romances tread the same predictable path? Who gives a damn if it’s unoriginal? Just make it entertaining and have something fresh to say in the end (or don’t, that’s fine too), and people will read it.

And when people say “Oh, you mean like Legolas”, take it as a compliment, not an insult. Yes, exactly like Legolas. Here’s my new elf because I adore this other book, now watch him go on a new adventure that I wrote for him.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #fantasy #scifi #writeblr #writing #what no one tells you about writing

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sadnymi · 8 months ago

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「 ✦ I can fix him ( No really I can ). ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary:Y/n's obsession with Mattheo was evident; she stalked him everywhere, daydreamed about him, and planned ways to get his attention. However, even though he said he hated her, his actions didn’t quite align with those words.

Warnings: stalker!reader , unhinged!reader,obsessed!reader, misunderstood with anger issues reader too! +16 , strong language.

Words: 4.5k

The air hung thick with the smell of spilled Butterbeer and desperation. Wedged into a corner booth of theLeaky Cauldron, I felt like a fish out of water, albeit a very determined fish. My friends, Lily and Anthony, slumped beside me,faces pale and glassy-eyed.

They were the studious type, the kind who'd rather spend a Friday night poring over Herbology textbooks than navigating the dimly lit chaos of this questionable bar. But here they were, martyrs to my grand plan.

My obsession with Mattheo riddle wasn't a recent development. It had blossomed, nurtured by stolen glances across the Great Hall and late-night eavesdropping during our Hogwarts years. Sure, it bordered on stalkerish – I knew his favorite Quidditch teams, the brand of broomstick polish he swore by, even the obscure runes tattooed discreetly on his forearm. But hey,love knew no bounds, right? Well, at least that's what I kept telling myself.

"Y/N, for Merlin's sake," Lily muttered, her voice barely a whisper above the din of drunken wizard gossip, "can't we please go back to Hogwarts? My eyelids are heavier than a dragon's hide after a full moon."

I shook my head firmly, my gaze scanning the sea of faces. "Not yet," I hissed, the anticipation bubbling in my chest. "He should be here any minute."

"He who?" Anthony mumbled, his head lolling against the worn leather of the booth.

"Mattheo, of course!" I exclaimed, my voice a touch louder than necessary. Heads swiveled in our direction, and I quickly ducked my head, mortified.

"Y/N," Anthony sighed, "I can't believe you dragged us all the way out here for a guy who wouldn't recognize you if you levitated naked in front of him."

"He will," I declared, a stubborn glint in my eyes. "Just wait and see." I straightened my robes, trying to project an air of confidence that I definitely wasn't feeling.

As if on cue, the door to the Leaky Cauldron creaked open, and a wave of boisterous laughter flooded the bar. My breath hitched. There he was. Handsome as sin, his black hair tousled, A mischievous grin playing on his lips. He was everything I ever dreamt of and more.

A collective groan escaped my friends' lips as they followed my gaze.

He scanned the room, his gaze sweeping right past my carefully constructed hiding place. "Oh, lord help her," Lily muttered, her voice laced with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

I forced a dazzling smile, willing him to notice me. But alas, he remained oblivious, his attention captured by a group of giggling witches at the bar.

"Show some respect to my man," I declared, though Mattheo was still blissfully unaware of my existence.

"He's not your man, Y/N," Anthony pointed out, stating the very obvious.

"Not yet," I corrected, my smile widening. "But he will be."

They both shook their heads, exasperation etched on their faces. "Y/N," Lily hissed, her ethereal voice taking on a surprisingly stern tone, "do you have any idea what you're talking about?"

I clamped a hand over her mouth "I can fix him," I whispered, my eyes fixed on Mattheo.

My friends erupted in laughter, the sound harsh and grating in the smoky bar. "No, seriously, I can!" I insisted, but they just kept shaking their heads.

"I can't take this anymore," she declared, her voice ringing clear. "Y/N, you're delusional, and Anthony and I are enabling you. This ends now. We're going back to Hogwarts."

"Fine, go," I muttered, my eyes still glued to Matteo. "But I'm staying for a while."

The Leaky Cauldron door creaked shut behind them, leaving me alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces and swirling rumors. I nursed my lukewarm Butterbeer, stealing glances at Mattheo across the room. He was lost in conversation with his friends, his laughter tinged with an edge I couldn't quite place.

A shadow fell across my table, and I looked up to find a burly wizard with a sly grin. "Mind if I join you, pretty lady? My treat."

I shook my head politely, my gaze still fixed on Mattheo. "Thank you, but I'm waiting for someone."

He persisted, leaning in uncomfortably close. But before I could politely dismiss him again, a loud booming voice cut through the bar's cacophony.

It was Mattheo, his handsome features contorted in a scowl. He said something that made his friends erupted in laughter, egging him on. A secret smile played on my lips. There he was, the same arrogant, trouble-seeking Mattheo I'd known at Hogwarts.

As his laughter died down, his eyes scanned the room, landing me. A flicker of surprise, then recognition, crossed his face.

He nudged his friends aside, striding towards my table with a swagger. Just as he reached me, he punched a nearby table sending the unsuspecting wizard sitting next to me flying in the air. He landed with a thud on a group of unsuspecting patrons, who shrieked in surprise.

My heart hammered in my chest. This was it. The darkness in his eyes – I knew that look. At Hogwarts, it always meant trouble. And with wands banned outside of school grounds, trouble often meant a good old-fashioned fistfight.

Mattheo reached me, his eyes narrowed. He glanced at the groaning wizard on the floor, then back at me. "Is he dead?" I asked, smiling.

My gaze darted between Mattheo and the dazed wizard. The words died in my throat as he grabbed my arms, his grip surprisingly tight.

"Who are you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

My carefully crafted facade threatened to crumble. Maybe my years of stalking – stalking? Observing! - hadn't been as effective as I'd hoped.

"Y/N," I stammered, my voice barely a squeak. "We have… two classes together… last year… remember?" I threw out the first things that came to mind, hoping to jog his memory.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows, a skeptical expression etched on his face. But before he could respond, he grabbed my arm again, his grip firm, and pulled me towards the bar's dimly lit exit.

"Okay, that's… kinda kinky," I blurted out. He stopped in his tracks, his mouth agape, as if unsure how to react to my strange comment.

"So… are you kidnapping me?" I continued, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind. I just wanted to know you better!"

He stared at me, incredulous. "A date first, wouldn't you say?" I added, a playful smile on my face.

Instead of replying, he pushed me against a wall, his frustration palpable. "Okay, that's a weird way to propose," I declared, a strange mix of excitement and fear bubbling in my chest. "But yes!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he said, his face inches from mine.

My mind was a whirlwind. He was close, impossibly close, and I couldn't think straight. But then again, I never could when it came to Mattheo Riddle.

"A lot of things," I mumbled, my voice barely audible. "So, which one are we talking about right now?"

His grip on my neck tightened, restricting my breath. Fear finally pierced through the haze of my infatuation. "Who sent you?" he spat. "I know you've been watching me since the beginning of the year. Tell me who sent you, or you're dead."

Dead? He thought I was a stalker, someone sent to spy on him? The truth was far more embarrassing – and much more obsessive. "Ouch," I croaked, trying to lighten the mood. "No one sent me.

He stared at me, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"I love watching people," I blurted out, a lame attempt at an explanation. His hand tightened around my neck, cutting off my air supply. I choked back a gasp, opting not to struggle.

"You are really into a lot of things," I wheezed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"This isn't a damn game," he growled, his face inches from mine. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"I know," I rasped. "And I'm telling you, no one sent me."

"So you just happen to be everywhere I'm in? Watching my every move is just a coincidence?"

"I do watch you," I confessed, meeting his gaze. The closeness was intoxicating, the scent of his cologne filling my senses.

"I, uh, I like you a lot and…" I stumbled over the words, my voice failing me.

He cut me off with a harsh laugh. "You like me a lot? So you just decide to stalk me?"

"Well, it's not… well, fine, yeah, but it wasn't that creepy, I swear!" I protested, flustered under his scrutiny.

"Go back to the castle. What did you say your name was? Y/N? Go back to the castle, and if I ever, ever saw you doing that again, I won't be this kind."

His words stung, a cold reality check washing over me. Yeah, maybe my grand plan of charming Mattheo hadn't gone exactly as planned.

"What if I don't want to?" I blurted out, blinking back tears I refused to let fall.

He sighed, frustration written all over his face. "Listen here," he said, pointing a finger between us. "This – this is not going to happen. Ever."

"Ever?" I echoed, a tiny voice in my head pleading with me to accept defeat.

He nodded. "Ever."

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, a ridiculous statement popped out of my mouth.

"Well, I don't think so," I said, a playful smile replacing my tearful expression. "I think one day you'll be so in love with me you'll beg me to be with you."

Matteo's response was a hearty laugh. "Yeah? And what makes you think that?"

"Delusional, maybe?" I replied, mirroring his smile.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he finally released his grip on my neck. "Go back to the castle, Y/N," he repeated, his voice softer now. "I won't say that again."

I nodded, a bittersweet feeling settling in my stomach. "Yes, sir," I quipped, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

"What did you just call me?"

"Sir?" I repeated, a full smile blooming on my face.

"Don't you ever call me that again," he said, pushing his hair back in frustration.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," Stepping back. "But you know," I added, turning back to him, "being controlling isn't very healthy in a relationship." And with that I walked away the look in his eyes enough to make me run for my life.

A week crawled by. Every snide remark from Lily and Anthony about my "delusional crush" felt like another blow to my already bruised ego. Yet, a strange sense of pride bubbled beneath the hurt. I'd talked to Mattheo Riddle, gotten under his skin even. A win, as I kept telling myself.

The first time I saw him in the Great Hall after the bar incident, my heart did a somersault. He was across the room, his usual smirk plastered on his face as he bantered with his friends. But then, our eyes met. His gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer than felt comfortable, and I quickly looked away, cheeks burning. Had he told his friends about the crazy stalker girl (me)? My stomach twisted in a knot.

Days blurred into one another, punctuated by stolen glances at Matteo in the Great Hall, Potions class, and even the Quidditch pitch (though I swore I wasn't there to see him play). Every time I felt his gaze on me, a wave of nervous excitement followed by a mad dash to the nearest deserted corridor. My behavior was erratic, even by my own standards.

Did that mean anything? Maybe. But probably not.

Dinner was a disaster. Every time I met Matteo's gaze, a jolt of excitement shot through me, followed by a wave of crippling anxiety. My hands trembled as I held my fork, and I managed to knock over my glass of pumpkin juice. A mortified squeak escaped my lips, and I felt the entire hall turn to stare.

I saw Mattheo. He smirked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. My mortification reached new heights.

I whispered to Lily. "I need to get out of here."

She nodded "Go," she mouthed.

Was I crazy? Obsessed? My friends were right. This was ridiculous. I couldn't keep acting like a lovesick fool.

Today professor Flitwick's voice echoed through the Charms classroom, "Today, we'll be practicing the Patronus Charm in pairs! Choose your partners wisely, as teamwork is crucial."

My heart skipped a beat. Partnering with anyone was nerve-wracking, but the thought of working with Mattheo sent a shiver down my spine. Of course, fate seemed to have a twisted sense of humor.

Just as I was about to pair with Anthony, Professor Flitwick called out, "Y/N (L/N) and Mr. Riddle, you'll be a fantastic team!"

Mattheo raised a questioning eyebrow, and I swear, I could hear the unspoken accusation, "Stalking me even into Charms class now?"

I held his gaze, a wry smile playing on my lips. "I swear I had no hand in this. Total coincidence."

Matteo leaned back in his chair, scanning me from head to toe with a slow, infuriating gaze. "Brave, are we?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"I know," I countered, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

"Actually," I continued, unable to resist, "this isn't the first time we've worked together in a class."

He scoffed. "Don't remember."

"Of course not," I muttered, a wry smile playing on my lips. "It was third year, Herbology, Professor Sprout gave us…"

Before I could finish, he cut me off. "Nope, still drawing a blank."

"Right," I said, pushing down a surge of disappointment.

We spent the next hour working on the charm. To Matteo's surprise, I grasped the Patronus concept quickly, flawlessly conjuring a shimmering silver stag. His own attempt sputtered out, a wisp of smoke.

"You're smart," he finally admitted, a surprised glint in his eyes.

"Yeah," I replied, a playful glint in my eyes, "I was a bit of a gifted child."

"Was?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Burnt out," I explained with a shrug. "Turns out being brilliant can be a drag."

A strange silence fell between us. He held my gaze for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features.

"You're so annoying," he finally said, his voice gruff.

"So you keep saying," I retorted, a smile spreading across my face. "And yet, here you are, looking at me like you don't hate my guts."

He averted his gaze, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "I don't like you," he mumbled.

"Whatever," I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "We're done, Professor!" I called out, grabbing my bag.

As I turned to leave, I couldn't resist one last look at him. He met my gaze, a smirk playing on his lips.

The following week felt like a bizarre role reversal. After our unexpected partnership in Charms class, Mattheo seemed to be the one doing the observing. It was a subtle shift, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but I felt it like a brand new tattoo – the intensity of his gaze burning into the back of my head whenever I wasn't looking.

It started subtly. During Defense Against the Dark Arts, I caught him staring at me from across the room as Professor Moody droned on about Unforgivable Curses. His gaze lingered a beat too long before he quickly averted his eyes, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

During lunch, I was engrossed in a lively conversation with Lily when I felt a familiar prickle on the back of my neck.Looking up, I saw Mattheo seated at the Slytherin table, a half-eaten sandwich abandoned in his plate . He met my gaze for the briefest of moments before scoffing and turning away to talk to Blaise Zabini.

Today as I trudged back to the castle after visiting Honeydukes. Lost in thought about the latest sugar concoction they were offering, I almost missed him. A flash of dark hair disappearing into the Forbidden Forest, followed by a flicker of red – blood.

My heart hammered in my chest. Was I imagining things? No, it was definitely blood. Curiosity, or perhaps something more, gnawed at me. Ignoring the voice of caution in my head, I veered off the path and followed him.

He emerged from the trees a short distance away, heading towards a small, ramshackle house nestled amidst the thick undergrowth. I watched from behind a large oak, my breath catching in my throat. He stumbled slightly as he reached the door, his face pale and drawn.

I should have turned around then, just left him to his secrets. But something held me rooted to the spot. A primal urge to help, a need to know what was going on.

Taking a deep breath, I approached the house, my hand hovering over the knocker. This was crazy. What if he was hurt? What if he was in trouble with someone dangerous?

The door creaked open before I could knock. Mattheo stood there, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and anger. There was no mistaking it this time – his face was streaked with blood, and it seemed to be coming from a nasty gash on his forehead. But that wasn't all. Blood stained his clothes in several places, and a dark smear marred his cheek.

He looked like he'd been in a war.

"So, another fight?" I managed, my voice barely a squeak.

"I thought I told you to stop following me," he growled, his voice hoarse.

"I wasn't," I blurted out, ignoring the tremor in my voice. "I was just coming back from Honeydukes, and then I saw you…"

He rolled his eyes, but I could tell the anger was fading, replaced by a weariness that mirrored my own. Taking a chance, I stepped closer, ignoring the frantic beating of my heart.

"Let me help you," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "You can't go back to the castle like that."

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded. "There's a first-aid kit in the back," he muttered, stepping aside.

I pushed past him, following his directions, I found the kit and rummaged inside.

Taking a deep breath, I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair. The only light came from a single dusty window, casting long shadows across the room. Mattheo sat on the bed.

Silence hung heavy in the air as I knelt beside him. First, I cleaned the cut on his hand, the antiseptic sting making him wince.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my shallow breaths. Finally, I reached his face, the most serious injury – a deep gash above his eyebrow.

Gently, I dabbed at the blood with a damp cloth, my movements slow and precise. As I cleaned the wound around his lips, I found myself looking directly into his eyes. They were a dark storm, swirling with emotions I couldn't decipher.

Suddenly, I was acutely aware of my position – kneeling between his legs, my gaze locked with his. "Good boy, all done," I whispered, my voice barely above a squeak. His breath hitched, hot against my face.

Then, a touch. His fingers brushed my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me. We were impossibly close, his gaze flickering between my lips and my eyes.

"What are you doing?" I stammered, barely recognizing my own voice.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Before I could react further, his lips were on mine. igniting a passion that had been building for so long.

His hands moved possessively to my waist, pulling me flush against his body.as our kiss deepened.

He pulled back abruptly, pushing me gently onto the bed.. "You taste so good," he murmured against my lips, his breath hot against my skin. "You’ve been driving me insane."

“ what spell did you cost on me ?”

I couldn't help but smile against his lips. "No spell, just pure chemistry," I whispered back, my fingers tangling in his hair. This was everything I'd imagined and more.

His hands roamed over my body, trailing fire across my skin, igniting a passion that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. "Say you want me to stop," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

But the words wouldn't come. I arched into his touch, my heart pounding with anticipation. "I don't want you to stop," I urged, my breath hitching as his lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. "I won't," he promised, his voice filled with a hunger that matched my own.

Just then, the world exploded around us. The front door creaked open, throwing harsh sunlight into the dusty room. Mattheo and I scrambled apart, guilt and confusion flooding my face.

"Well, first of all, what the hell? I thought you hated her," Blaise Zabini drawled from the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise. He shifted his gaze to Mattheo, a smirk playing on his lips. "How can you still get energy after that fight, Riddle?"

Heat flooded my cheeks as I scrambled to gather my things. "I have to go," I mumbled, my voice strangled.

Mattheo remained silent, his gaze fixed on me. Did he want me to stay? Did he...?

I couldn't bear to wait for an answer. As I rushed towards the door, I couldn't resist a final act of defiance. Stepping on Blaise's shoe with all my might, I gave him a withering look before exiting the ramshackle house.

I heard Blaise's surprised yelp “ She’s fucking crazy, man” followed by Matteo's low chuckle. A strange sense of satisfaction washed over me.

With a final shove, I pushed the rickety door shut behind me, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Blaise's bewildered face was the last thing I saw before I was plunged into the cool evening air. My cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and a thrilling, exhilarating heat.

The sound of Blaise's voice, laced with confusion, drifted out from the house. "Didn't you say you hated her or something?"

A tense silence followed. Then, I heard it – Mattheo's voice, low and gravelly. I held my breath, straining to hear his answer.

"Yes," he said, a single word that echoed in the stillness of the forest. "I still do."

A wave of disappointment washed over me, so strong it took my breath away. It all meant nothing. He still hated me.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to move. My legs felt heavy, but I stumbled away from the house, deeper into the darkening forest. Maybe my friends were right. Maybe this whole obsessive crush had been a complete delusion.

The following days were a masterclass in avoidance.My mission was clear – steer far, far away from Mattheo Riddle.

If I saw him sauntering down the hallway, I'd take a sharp turn into the nearest classroom, even if it meant enduring Professor Sprout's droning lecture on Mimbulus Mimbletonia for the fifth time.

Corridors became obstacle courses, as I scanned for his familiar dark hair, taking circuitous routes if I even suspected he might be lurking around a corner.

Tucked away in a secluded corner, surrounded by fragrant lavender and plump pumpkins, I finally pulled out the letter from home.

The familiar parchment felt heavy in my hand. Taking a deep breath, I unfolded the letter and started to read. It was a glowing report on my brother, praising his achievements at the Ministry and lauding his "brilliant mind." A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Of course. My brother, the golden child, the one who could do no wrong.

As I continued reading, the praise seemed to morph into a subtle criticism of me. There was no mention of my academic achievements, no congratulations on my recent Charms O.W.L.s. Just a vague allusion to my "potential" and a gentle reminder to "follow in my brother's footsteps."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the words on the page. Anger bubbled up inside me, hot and fierce. Why were they always so focused on him? Didn't they see me? Didn't they see how hard I tried?

Pushing the frustrations down, I wiped my tears with a vicious swipe.

Just as I was about to crumple up the letter, a familiar voice startled me. "Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?"

Mattheo stood before me, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. I whipped my head up, startled. The mocking smile I'd planned faltered slightly.

"Well, hello there, Riddle," I managed, a slight tremor in my voice.

He ignored my shaky greeting, his gaze fixed on my tear-streaked face. He knelt down beside me, his hand reaching out to gently touch mine. Before I could pull away, he brushed a stray tear from my cheek.

"Answer me," he pressed, his voice gentle. "Did someone hurt you?"

I managed a watery laugh."Do you think anyone could actually hurt me?"

"I think they'd regret the day they were born if they tried," he said fiercely, his thumb brushing away another tear.

A choked laugh bubbled up in my throat. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he finally asked, his voice low and serious.

"Didn't that seem to be what you wanted all this time?" I retorted, my defenses slowly crumbling under his genuine concern.

He shook his head, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "But it never stopped you before, did it?"

"You hate me," I stated, forcing the words out, hoping to maintain some semblance of control.

He met my gaze, a surprising warmth melting away the usual façade. "Of course I do," he said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Then why are you here, caring so much for someone who claims to hate them?" I challenged, my voice trembling slightly.

He leaned in closer, his voice a mere whisper. "Well, I don't hate you. In fact, I kind of missed you these past few days. You really know how to mess with a man's head, L/N."

My breath caught in my throat. Mattheo held my gaze, his hand still gently cupping mine.

"So?" he drawled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Am I forgiven, or should I do that dramatic monologue you conjured up that night?"

The urge to laugh was overwhelming. His teasing, that infuriatingly familiar smirk – it felt strangely comforting after the emotional rollercoaster of the past few moments. Instead of a witty retort, I leaned in and surprised even myself by kissing him.

He responded instantly, his kiss deepening with a fervor that stole my breath away.

"That would be nice," I mumbled against his lips when we finally broke apart, "but right now, this will do." I reached up and cupped his face, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his jaw. "This," I whispered, "is more than enough."

He pulled me closer, his hand reaching up to explore the curve of my back. The kiss was different this time, slow and languid

His hand found its way under my skirt, sending a jolt of heat through me. He pulled me closer, setting me on his lap.

"What the…" a voice cut through the charged atmosphere. We both pulled away, startled, to find Blaise Zabini standing there, his jaw hanging open in a comical display of shock.

Heat flooded my cheeks "I'm going to kill him," I whispered to mattheo.

"I'd help you hide the body,"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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gayandfairycore · 6 months ago

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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

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