#ced being a little shit never came to my mind when this was happening but here we are

[visxionaries]

who: @fromthcfires when and where: following his conversation with king jaehaerys targaryen, cedric meets the targaryen representative during this plot...and he does not like the big question mark rhaegar targaryen is.

king cedric tyrell observed prince rhaegar targaryen with careful scrutiny as they walked through the reach’s council chambers, the late afternoon sun streaming through the arched windows. the golden light cast an almost ethereal glow around rhaegar, though his calm, enigmatic demeanor unsettled cedric more than he cared to admit. rhaegar’s silence was not the kind cedric was accustomed to—it wasn’t borne of caution or defiance but something deeper, almost impenetrable.

cedric could usually read men like a well-thumbed book, but rhaegar was a tome written in a foreign tongue, and that frustrated him.

cedric clasped his hands behind his back as they moved through the room, pausing before an open window to take in the breeze. “you’ve been quiet, prince rhaegar. i wonder if that’s a habit of yours or a strategy.” his tone was a light taunt, words that carried weight as he glanced sidelong at the targaryen, hoping for a reaction, some tell that would give him insight into the man sent to oversee his plans. rhaegar’s expression remained unreadable, his lilac eyes fixed on the horizon. cedric pressed on, unwilling to let the silence linger too long.

“jaehaerys is wise to send someone with your... unique history,” he said, choosing his words deliberately. directly. was this targaryen mad? he knew jaehaerys was, and he needed to work out what he was dealing with when it came to this one.

“you’ve been to places most of us only hear about in stories. you’ve seen the worst of men, i’d wager, and perhaps the best too, if such a thing exists. that perspective must serve your king well.” he turned back to face rhaegar fully, the faintest hint of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. this was all becoming quite typical of the targaryens now; new family members rearing their heads, claiming they were never dead. “i admit, though, i find it curious. your return to prominence after so many years, your role now...what is it exactly? ambassador?"

finally, he cracked his charming grin; one laced with gold and silver words, with vivid blue eyes that seemed to glimmer, and yet it were as though it were empty. not callous, not cold, but simply empty; without meaning, or value. “i’m not sure what to make of you, rhaegar. perhaps that’s by design. but understand this—i will do what needs to be done for the reach, for our people. whatever that requires.” he cast one last look at the prince before turning back to the view, a laugh coming from him. “i trust you’ll be watching.”

[pottersfia]

putting on an act | hp x reader

part two

part one

part three

masterlist

a/n: i’m not so proud of this butttt i needed something new out, part 3 is gonna be good tho

warnings: slight angst ? (argument with ced lol), swearing

prompts:

8: “if i can’t call you honey, what pet names can i call you?”

34: “I was just waiting it out until later when I can crawl into bed and cuddle you.”

6: “how do they expect us to share a bathroom?” “they think we’re dating. couples share bathrooms you moron.”

you woke up the next morning a little nervous. it was your first day pretending to date harry in front of others. the two of you did mention the new relationship to a few friends so the news somewhat got around. you got dressed and ready for the day, then walked out your dorm to the common room. much to your surprise, you found harry standing there.

“good morning, harry.” you greeted him.

“morning. let’s get on to breakfast, yeah?” he held his hand out to you and you took it.

walking into the great hall was intimidating to say the least. sure it wasn’t as dramatic as a coming of age movie scene where life seemed to go in slowmo as everyone stared and pointed to you two, but it sure felt like it. you turned your eyes to the hufflepuff table and saw cedric staring at you. this gave you a bit of confidence as you remembered why you were doing this in the first place. you smiled at him as you sat next to harry at the gryffindor table.

“good morning.” hermione greeted. you looked at ron and hermione across from you and smiled.

“good morning.” you said back as you began to grab some breakfast.

“you moved on from diggory pretty quick.” ron smirked and raised his eyebrows. you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“yeah well i guess i found someone better.” harry smiled at your words, quietly laughing to himself. hermione looked between the two of you. it was the same look she’d get when trying to think of an answer to a hard question, nonetheless you shook it off as her attention went to the new conversation ron and harry started.

breakfast was over and students were piling out of the great hall. you stood up and followed harry, holding his hand again. 

“hey, did you study for the defense against the dark arts test?” he asked you.

“yeah i did why,” but you were interrupted when you bumped into cedric. 

“oh, sorry about that.” he looked up and saw that it was you. 

“y/n, potter.” he greeted with a forced smile. you smiled back and dragged harry away before he could say anything back. 

“woah, slow down.” he chuckled. 

“he makes me so mad. he acts like nothing happened.” you rolled your eyes.

“he’s not worth your time then, uh, honey?” he questioned. you looked at him and scrunched up your face, visibly cringing.

“never say that again.” you laughed. 

“if i can’t call you honey, what pet names can i call you?” he asked, also with a soft laugh. you thought for a moment, looking forward as you saw the door to the classroom you were walking to approaching you.

“i’ll leave that up to you.” you turned to him and smiled, turning back around to walk into the classroom.

“wait,” he turned you towards him by your hand. you looked up, giving him a questioning look. he smiled and pulled your hand up to his lips, leaving a kiss. 

“alright, see you later.” he winked and was off. you were stunned. to your knowledge all feelings you felt for him were only platonic but there you were, fighting off the faint butterflies that you felt in your stomach. if this developed into anything through your little stunt you’d be in deep shit. so, you made a conscious decision to forget anything even happened. you snapped out of it as you turned to walk into your charms class.

•••

the next few weeks went by smoothly. you and harry successfully convinced everyone you were dating. well, almost everyone. hermione was no fool, she figured it out herself. she didn’t approve of the method but let it go nonetheless.

as for your feelings, you tried your best to conceal them. you noticed how much happier you were around harry, wether you were around others or not. and sometimes you liked to imagine that this whole thing wasn’t so fake. it was such a great feeling to be with him you didn’t want to let that go.

little did you know, harry was going through something similar. he realized he had feelings for you at the most unexpected time.

you were walking with harry in the courtyard, hand in hand. you chatted on and on about any random thing that came to mind. you both stopped and sat down on a bench continuing the conversation. your eyes got distracted as you saw cedric approach you two. you widened your eyes at harry as if to signal to him that he was coming. he got the message. as cedric got closer, you became more attentive to the conversation you carried, planning on ignoring cedric.

“y/n?” you heard cedric’s voice cut you off.

“oh, hi cedric.” you replied looking up at him.

“can we talk?” he looked at harry.

“alone.” you glanced at harry and shrugged.

“sure.” you stood up and made your way a few steps away from harry. he couldn’t keep his eyes off you that day.

harry had always agreed you were attractive, there was no denying that, but in this moment you were glowing. he realized that whenever you were around he was significantly happier. being with you was so easy, and so was this fake relationship. he couldn’t help but admire the way you carried yourself and how effortlessly beautiful you looked even while having an evidently weird conversation with cedric. wait, what were you two talking about?

meanwhile, you stood with your arms crossed.

“what’s your deal, y/n?” cedric asked.

“what do you mean?” you looked at him innocently. “i see what you’re doing with potter. it’s like you’re trying to make me jealous or something.” he questioned you.

“if you’re jealous it’s ok to admit.” you scoffed. “you’re the one that cheated on me, sorry i found someone who treats me better.”

“for godric’s sake, i already apologized for that.” you shook your head at his words.

“i’m sorry, did i miss something? i never spoke to me after i caught you!”

“yeah, because i feel like shit!” he yelled right back. “and now you’re off with harry. i knew something was happening behind my back.”

“if you’re saying i was cheating first then you’re wrong. i never did anything with harry.” you slightly calmed down, not wanting to create a big scene since there were already a few eyes on you.

“sure.” cedric was silent. you were silent right back, staring at each other in disappointment and disbelief.

“whatever, harry!” you broke the silence by calling for him. harry looked over at you and got up.

“sorry i left you hanging.” you said. he shrugged.

“I was just waiting it out until later when I can crawl into bed and cuddle you.” you smiled as you felt butterflies again. “see you later cedric.” harry said and walked away with you.

•••

now of course cedric wasn’t your main concern. the whole idea originated from harry’s crush on cho. harry found it hard to keep this in mind. cho was a pretty girl, nice, kind, smart, but his feelings were slowly fading and being replaced by you. the only thing that gave him a reality check was going from hanging out around others to having alone time. as soon as it was the two of you everything fell back to being platonic. well, kind of.

about two days after the cedric situation, you found yourself in a pretty awkward situation, or should’ve been. muggle studies, one of the few elective classes that mixed students of different years. you were assigned group work with harry, cedric, and cho. they were the closest next to you and harry’s desks so the four of you were partnered together. the energy was tense as you lot wrote your answers down for the question you were given.

“um, so, how are you two doing?” cho spoke up. you looked up at her, slightly surprised and gave a closed mouth smile.

“uh, pretty good, thanks for asking.” you replied. cho nodded.

“i always knew there was something between you two.” cho said. you looked at her.

“you did?” you and harry asked in unison. she nodded. it had seemed like that was all anyone could say. ‘there was always something between y/n and harry.’ it practically haunted you.

“tell me potter, does she let you use her bathroom or is it too early in the relationship for that?” you practically choked as you heard cedric speak.

“what?” harry asked.

“well i only ask because when we were together, and i’d sleep over in her dorm, she rarely let me use her bathroom for anything. i reckon she was scared i’d mess something up.” cedric shrugged with a smile, obviously amused with himself. you could see cho trying to hold in a laugh.

“thank you for that, cedric. very unnecessary, let’s get this work finished, yeah?” you were annoyed. harry and cho nodded instantly going back to writing. you looked over at cedric and glared at him. he smiled right back innocently.

later that day you and harry were ‘studying’ in your room. that studying really turned into you two chatting about and listening to music.

you turned your head to see harry staring at the door to your bathroom.

“how do they expect us to share a bathroom?” he asked, referring to cedric’s words.

“they think we’re dating. couples share bathrooms you moron.” you rolled your eyes and replied. “don’t pay any mind to what cedric said. i noticed cho giving you glances today, like a lot.” you tried to sound excited for him. he nodded.

“right.”

[wlntrsldler]

unrequited (draco malfoy/ cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, sadness???

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.2K+

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

UNREQUITED PLAYLISTS (SEND ME SONGS!)

-

PART 15

To say Fred and George were furious when you stumbled into Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes that summer, falling apart completely in their arms as you told them about Draco, would be downplaying it. You physically had to hold Fred back from marching down to Malfoy Manor himself to kill Draco. Once he saw your pleading face, broken and a bit relieved that you finally had someone to talk to about what happened, he knew you needed to be with him and George above anything else. 

“I knew I should’ve put a dungbomb in his room before we left,” George muttered, still holding you sandwiched between him and Fred. “That little piece of shit.”

“I’m just glad I have you guys around to talk to about this,” you sniffled, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your jumper. “I miss you guys.” 

“We miss you too, you know,” Fred replied, kissing your head. “But now you get to spend the summer with us. Are you still alright with helping us out with the shop’s grand opening this summer?”

“��Course,” you smiled, pulling away from them. “It’s the only thing that kept me going the last few months of school.” 

“Well, if that’s so, let’s get started!” George held your hand and pulled you all around the shop, Fred trailing behind the two of you as he showed you around their masterpiece. You were taken back by how amazing everything looked. You knew they were going to be successful but this exceeded all of your expectations and theirs. They really outdid themselves. It was their dream and more. 

After two hours of walking around the shop and them proudly showing off their new products, as well as showing you the prototypes for unreleased items in their stockroom, they led you up to their flat above the store. The space was still a bit empty, a few boxes here and there, since they haven’t finished unpacking everything. Mrs. Weasley was still in the process of sending off the items they left back in the Burrow. 

They sat down on the larger couch, motioning for you to sit across from them. You sat, taking in the environment. On the walls were pictures of the Weasley family hung proudly, lining the hallways that lead to their respective rooms. A picture of the three of you was placed by the bookshelf, one that was taken the day before they left Hogwarts. 

“What else have we missed since we left, Y/N?” Fred asked, leaning forward in interest. “Surely, things have been quite boring since we left the premises.” 

You chuckled, nodding, “You know life is never as great without the two of you around.”

“Good answer,” George hummed, taking a sip from his glass of water. “But other than you know… the other he who shall not be named, how are you?” 

You pondered the question a bit; You didn’t want to worry them. You’ve been miserable, to be honest. After the twins left, you felt a bit like an outsider. You still had friends, like the Trio and a few others like Neville, Dean and Seamus, but they already had their established friendships. It didn’t feel right to always intrude in their lives. The twins were the only ones who truly made you feel comfortable after Cedric’s death. And of course things were a bit better when Draco was in the picture, but now, that’s not really the case anymore. 

You knew Fred and George enough to know that if you were to tell them this, they’d feel like rubbish and would blame themselves for all of these misfortunes in your life. That’s the last thing you wanted. You knew this shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, was their dream and they were here, fulfilling it. You didn’t want them to have apprehensions on their decision. 

You smiled, “I’ve been better but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

“That’s our girl.” Fred chirped, a genuine smile on his face. He studied your features for a minute, taking in the way you bit back your tongue. He let it slide, sitting up straighter to change the subject. “Mr. Diggory stopped by a few days ago.” 

You cocked your head to the side, “What did he need?”

“Just wanted to say thank you to us for keeping Cedric’s grave relatively neat,” George explained. “Since we left school, we’ve had more time to visit him so we just dust off here and there.” 

Tears pricked your eyes, thinking of the two boys coming over to talk to Cedric. You imagined them tossing old bouquets of flowers that have wilted or died in the extreme weather and replacing them with new ones. You looked up at them, lip quivering, “Thank you.” 

“He was a good friend,” Fred said.

George continued, “To all of us. Never did he ever act like he was better than anyone.”

“Even when it was obvious that he was.”

You chuckled, wiping the tears slipping from your eyes. You nodded in agreement, remembering how humble Cedric always was. Even as a young boy who excelled in just about everything, he never once boasted about it. He just laughed all the praise off and helped out any students who seemed to be struggling. When he became Prefect, you celebrated with him but he just brushed off this achievement by saying he couldn’t wait until you became one too. 

“You know, he never got us in trouble, that Cedric,” George said, fondly. “One time, I was so sure he was about to tell on us for being out after hours. Caught us red-handed too, didn’t he, Freddie?”

“Indeed, Georgie,” the older twin nodded, “All the evidence was planted on us, ready to incriminate us, and guess what Cedric did?”

“What?” you asked, eyes twinkling at their story. This was a story about Cedric that you haven’t heard before. It was refreshing to hear things about him, instead of reliving the same memories that only left you lonely. 

“He said, “Hurry up boys! I can’t be your look out for any longer!” And Fred and I just grinned at him from ear to ear!” George said, laughing at the memory. “Good bloke, that one.”

“One of the best mates we’ve ever had.” 

“Do you guys mind if we visit him later today?” you wondered, chewing on your bottom lip when you realized how long it’s been since you last went to see him. You still read his journal everyday, but there was something different about being there. 

“Of course, not.” They replied in unison, both leaning over to place a comforting hand on your knee, “Let us know when.” 

-

You walked closer to the familiar stone, smiling when you saw a familiar bouquet of purple, gold, and white flowers still sitting by it. You leaned over to it, picking it up and admired how it still looked the same as you last left it. 

“Yeah, this one never wilted,” Fred said from behind you, his hands in his pockets. 

George stood beside him, motioning to the bouquet in your hands, “We don’t know why.” 

“I enchanted it so it would stay alive until I come back,” you stated, watching the petals slowly wilt and fall off the stem. You watched as it fell apart in your palms, soon becoming nothing else but a pile of dead leaves. “I left it here last time I came to visit him.” 

“What was it?” 

“Hyacinth, marigold, and petunia,” you replied, blowing away the particles left in your palm. You looked back at the two boys, further explaining it, “They’re muggle plants. During the Triwizard competition, Neville and I spent some good hours together. The boy is in love with herbology. I took a liking to it too because of him, and it followed me through my time with my aunt in the muggle world. I fell in love with their plants too.” 

“Do they mean anything?” 

“Yes,” you waved your wand, pointing it by the stone that had the carving of Cedric’s name. Soon, a full bloom of flowers emerged and took the place of the ones that wilted. “Purple hyacinths mean sorrow, an apology. Marigold is the flower of grief and petunias represent anger, resentment, and that their presence soothes you. It’s an odd combination, I know, but it captured everything that I was feeling last time I was here.” 

“I think it’s beautiful.” George spoke up, smiling at you. “Does the new bouquet have a meaning too?”

“Ambrosia, Orange Blossom and Camellia,” you started, now sitting down on the grass in front of his tombstone. “Ambrosia means your love is reciprocated. Orange Blossoms stand for eternal love and Camellia means longing.” 

Fred walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear, “We’ll give you some privacy.” 

You nodded, still unable to remove your gaze from Cedric’s name. You heard their footsteps lightly crunching the grass they stepped on. You leaned over, touching the buds of the flowers, already in full bloom. You spoke, “You hear that, Ced? Your love is reciprocated.” 

You were met with silence, as you expected. You lifted one leg up, leaning against your knee as you continued to talk. “You should’ve told me you loved me sooner. I wish you did so I could’ve told you I loved you back. Maybe you would’ve survived, somehow? Maybe if you knew that I was here waiting for you to come back, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to win. I don’t know, Ced. I’m just stuck on wishful thinking right now.” 

“I met someone, I hope you’re not mad,” you whispered, looking down at your lap. “I’m trying really hard to move on. I know this is what you would’ve wanted for me and I tried, Ced. I really did, but it just… It didn’t work out.” 

“Is it possible to be in love with two people at once?” you asked, voice wavering after every word. “I’m in love with you, Ced. I think I always will be, you know? Because for the rest of my life, I’ll just think about what my life would’ve been like if you were still around. We would’ve been perfect. Eternal love. Even after death, I love you.” 

“But all this time, I’ve rejected all of Draco’s affections,” you paused, “Yes, it’s Malfoy. Bit of a shocker, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s not that hard to believe for you. You were more observant than I was anyway.” 

You sighed, “But it’s Draco. I think I’ve known for a while that I was in love with him but this is the first time I’ve let myself say it out loud. And I’m sorry I’m saying this to you but you are my best friend, Cedric. I miss you. Sometimes I miss you because I’m in love with you but sometimes I miss you because you’re my best friend and I feel so lost without you.” 

“I’m in love with Malfoy, too. Not in the same way that I love you, never in the same way that I love you but I don’t love you in the same way that I love him, either. I don’t know if it makes sense. I hope you understand what I’m saying.” 

“But he left me, Cedric. He discarded me after he got what he wanted from me. I feel so stupid.” 

You watched the sun set behind the stone. You closed your eyes, letting the rays of sun hit your skin. You let out a shaky breath, listening to the sounds of nature in the distance. You leaned over and kissed the stone, your tears staining the polished relic. You stood up, finally, dusting off your pants. “The war is coming, Cedric. I hope things work out for the better but I can’t say with full honesty that I wish to survive. I don’t think there’s much else left for me to do here.” 

“Y/N,” You turned around to see Fred standing a few feet behind you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He walked over to you, wrapping an arm around you. He stared directly at Cedric’s name, a sad smile playing on his lips, “Sorry mate, but we’re gonna have to keep her here for a while longer. She’s not going anywhere, if I can help it.” 

You let out a wet chuckle, nudging your head into his chest, “Where’s Georgie?” 

“Waiting for us,” he said, rubbing his thumb up and down your arm. “We’re having dinner with the family tonight. You ready to go?” 

You nodded, giving one last look, before following Fred towards George. You walked in silence, until Fred spoke up again. “I meant it, you know.” 

“Hmm?”

“You’re gonna get through this war, Y/N,” he said, sternly. “I know you don’t think you have anyone left but for Merlin’s sake, you do. I say this all the time but we’re here for you. Me, Georgie, Moine, the family, Harry- everyone. You’re my family now too. I don’t know what I would do if I lost my family.” 

“It’s hard, Freddie.”

“I know,” he sighed, seeing George’s silhouette in the distance. “But you don’t have to face things alone anymore, you hear? This war is going to tear all of us apart. We need to stand united.” 

You mustered up the courage to smile, trying to ignore the way your heart beat rapidly in your chest, afraid of what’s to come.

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[junejalow]

Bandit/Blitz "You're my charming idiot."

This is for RandomPersonDasHere, their prompt is for Bandit and Blitz under the prompt "How can you still be so idiotically charming?", changed it a tiny bit to fit with the idea I thought of . 

A simple training simulation, that's all they had to do. At least that's what Blitz though. He could hear Ace curse further down the hallway of the building they were slowly advancing in, sparks of electricity crackling from somewhere followed by a muffled chuckle of victory.

Bandit.

Blitz thought to himself. The attackers weren't told who they would be going against and vice versa, but he knew that sound all to well. His significant other was being his usual little asshole self by waiting last second to place his CED-1 down just to fuck with people. His attention was drawn to the sound of chalk grenades going off two rooms from him along with rounds fired and peppering the hallway a bit.

"Four attackers and four Defenders left!"

Sounded the announcer over head.

Shifting a bit into the doorway to get a good peek inside, Blitz immediately noticed Mozzie down against the wall and Finka close by, also down. He cursed under his breath, Finka had gone head with Ace earlier to check out an extra route before she had traced her steps back but clearly rain into trouble. Unfortunately that meant pests were around and drones would be out of the question to see who all was on the defending side. He met up with Ace further down the hallway who had held up in a room across from the guarded corner he tried to access moments before. Elias gave a silent motion to the Norwegian to get behind him so his shield could take any bullets and blasts for them.

"Your sneaky boyfriend got away from me, can't believe he got me with his battery." Ace grumbled behind him, keeping his free hand on his shoulder with his pistol aimed over Blitz's shoulder. He clearly wasn't happy with the trick but knew Bandit could outsmart and out play them easily. The German was a crafty guy.

"It's just a training exercise Ace." Yet... Blitz found a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He fell hard for Bandit's personality and gruff nature years ago, they were a couple before they even came to Rainbow and thankfully Six allowed them to keep their relationship as long as it never interfered with their mission at hand. Even during training, they put that aside and focused. Then again. Trust Bandit to never keep a promise if he couldn't cause chaos. The man basically LIVED to cause mayhem. A man of opportunity that wasn't scared to take a leap. Fine. Blitz would play along.

Bandit was still snickering to himself as he backed into the safety of the reinforced room and boarded up the doorway, He glanced over towards Rook who had long since placed down his armor pack for them. He almost looked bored with how long they had been waiting but it also told them whoever was on the other team where the more careful and calculated operators of the attacking team. Or they weren't taking this serious, hell he wasn't. "I just bagged Ace's last Aqua Breacher."

Rook gave him an amused smile, "You know he'll come after you now mon ami (my friend), he takes pride in those breaches and you just stripped every bit of it away."

"Stripping someone's ego is a good thing, it get's in the way." He retorted. "Besides, this is f-"

Bandit was cut off by the announcer above along side a muffled flash noise, bullets and thud of a body dropping.

"Three defenders remaining!"

"Scheiße(shit)" He swore.

Finka, Ace and now Blitz?

Of course his goofball of a boyfriend would be pitted against him despite this being a surprise training session with no info given. He started to think a bit more seriously now, Blitz wouldn't go easy on him and Ace was already upset for the stunt he just pulled with taking out his gadget. Of course that left him without any batteries left. Rook held one door while he had the other. He knew Mozzie was down, he hadn't heard from the aussie in awhile now. He wasn't sure who exactly was down now, Kapkan had left earlier to place his EDD's around the place for anyone who didn't watch their footing and Echo was off somewhere flying his Yokai drone. Bandit had hoped to hold out longer but now this was survival. They had to run the timer down.

Blitz made a mental note of who all was left for their side vs who they had found so far. Ace was still with him, they wanted to clear rooms before heading for the main room since they had already pinpointed it earlier.

Finka is down, Ace is with me, Buck is searching the bottom floor and Glaz is circling around outside.

He glanced back for a moment, mentally marking the operator downed in the room to the right who had tried to sneak up on them only to get Blitz's shield flash to the face and Ace landing a well placed shot to the head on Echo. Bandit's hiding in the target room, Mozzie and Echo are down.

That's three out of four.

Who else do they have?

He thought to himself as him and Ace advanced upstairs as quietly as possible. They could access the main target room from a hatch in the far bedroom.

"I do not like how quiet it is min venn (my friend)" Ace mumbled to him quietly, worried they were going against one of the more skilled operators of Rainbow. Just as the thought left his mind, he was snatched into a room by a muscled arm around his neck and was shot in the back four times before being dropped. The figure darting into an adjoining before Blitz could catch full view of the person. They weren't making this easy at all.

"Three attackers remaining!"

"Playing games now?" He called out, "It's not like anyone to strike and flee!" Elias wanted to provoke the defender, he wanted to take more of them out. His main target was Bandit after all. "Glaz, light up the target room but leave Bandit if you see him."

"As you wish." The Russian replied with a knowing grin to his voice. Well aimed shots echoed on the far end of the building, within minutes the announcer went off again.

"Two defenders remaining!"

"Come out little rabbit, I know you're up here." Blitz called again, taking his corner's carefully and checking the doorways incase he was dealing with any type of explosives. His answer was a flash bang rolling towards him out of a side room, he quickly brought up his shield as it went off. The ringing got to him but a flash of movement from the corner of his eye had him shifting his weight and shield, vibrations against it told him he had reacted just in time to avoid any major damage but a sting to his lower right calf alerted him to just how close that encounter had been. He glanced through the window on his shield and saw Kapkan holding up a C4, ready to toss it with a glint of amusement in his honey brown eyes locked onto the German's own brown eyes. His heart sank for a moment before a shot whizzed by and tagged Kapkan just above his protective covering, staggering the large man back a few steps. Elias took the change and shot the C4 in his hand, causing powered chalk to coat the area and took the man down with it. He silently thanked Glaz for the shot taken and remained quiet as he moved back down the stairs, all surprise lost upstairs with the battle.

"One defender remaining, One minute remaining in the scenario!"

Now or never Elias! Move!

He did just that, rushing the last stretch and bashing through the boarded up door closest to him. Without hesitation he pressed the button in his grip and flashed the room, hearing a grunt of surprise and a angry curse to his left he immediately turned and shot only to find the spot empty. What happened? He heard the noise but no one was there. He took a careful glance around the room, no where to hide. Rook laid across the room with a chalk mark center of his face plate near an opened door with splintered wood laying around. "Dom ran?" Blitz mumbled to himself in disbelief. The defender would never run off site if this was a real mission, but Bandit had completely left the training area more than once out of annoyance or pure boredom. "Bandit! I'm not playing hide and seek with you mein liebling! (my darling)" He half joked with a serious tone.

When no answer came he figured the man had gotten bored with the training simulation, wouldn't be the first time he let the clock run. He worked on setting the diffuser down but didn't notice the C4 charge set near by until the ringing officially left his ears. He didn't run, it was a distraction. White filled his vision as it exploded. He landed flat on his back, coughing from the dust.

"Defenders win!"

The announcement above rang out, the defenders had won and attackers lost. He sat up and glanced at Bandit who came back into the room, he could see the smirk the man wore behind his balaclava. Oh what Blitz wouldn't give to wipe it off his face right now, but he had to admit that was a nice play on tactic's. The German had used the effects of Kapkan's flash bang against him to hide the beeping of the C4.

I got cocky and he used that to his advantage.

All of the inside operators filtered out of the training building so the next group could start their run. Elias gave praise where it was due, but ignored Bandit as pay back. Of course he didn't like that at all and of course Blitz didn't care, at least he didn't show that he secretly did on the outside. He headed for the locker room to change out of his gear, taking his time so only him and Bandit was left. "You really fucked up out there, out played by yours truly. I'm surprised really, you aren't usually that sloppy. Or maybe you went soft on me? I'm pretty sure that was it, am I right mein liebling?(my dear)" Dominic mused as he came up behind Elias who was sitting on a bench, placing his rough hands on his shoulders. "My poor little Eli', not wanting to hurt me even for training. I truly am touched."Elias couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips, releasing a chuckle from his chest. "After all of that... How can you still be so idiotically charming.""I'm just good at what I do." "You really are Dom, you really are." He replied, glancing up at his boyfriend who placed a soft kiss to his forehead. Earning a soft smile from Elias. "But, you're my charming idiot."

[lovefollowsknowledge]

Rejoice! It is time.

This picture was taken just a little over 5 years ago. More specifically, it was taken on October 22, 2015 while I was living in Michigan. And ever since October 22 of this year I have been trying to get the words out of what this year’s anniversary of this picture has meant to me, but every time I feel like I come up short. I’ve tried to write it out, pray it out, and talk it out with those closest to me, but every time I feel like I’m at a lost for words as to how to adequately convey what this year’s anniversary means to me. Because for the first time, I am not afraid.

I usually hate this time of year. During this time of year I usually avoid any old posts, old pictures, and most especially any old memories. I try to avoid anything that could remind of the day this was taken. Because on this day 5 years ago, I went into the hospital for my first time ever. It was for my depression. The days and weeks leading up to this day were intense. My mind was completely gripped by the conviction of suicide. I was starting to think in lasts. Last time I would see my family, last time I would talk to friends, last time I would drive down roads, last time I would walk along paths.

There was one time in particular I was walking along a path I had been walking almost daily. It was actually a beautiful fall day, but my mind was very very dark. I started to see everything as an opportunity, and I had already made up my mind that once I got back home that would be it. But by God’s providence alone, I was met with a busy house, too busy to do anything so severe. So I trudged along.

There was another day in particular where I was alone at work. I had gone to vigil Mass and stayed behind uncontrollably sobbing in my pew till everyone was gone and all the lights shut off. It was to the point I even had another parishioner check on me before they left. I bawled all the way down the hallway back to my office and tried so hard to distract myself with work and worship music, but nothing helped. Eventually I sought out professional help, but even that brought no relief. But again, by God’s providence alone, my therapist from California, who I hadn’t talked to in 8 months, randomly called me just to check in and talked me through all the thoughts I was having. She told me “Don’t let this be the end. FIGHT! Which for you mostly means, RECEIVE!”

One other time that I will always remember was one evening we all came back home from something, maybe vigil Mass, and it was one of those days where I had to fight with all my strength not to completely break down. So the moment we got home, I went straight to my room, locked the door, and just tossed and turned in agony on my bed not knowing how to deal with the swirl of sadness, darkness, hopelessness going on in my head. I texted Ate right away that I wouldn’t be joining them that night for whatever dinner or movie they were gonna do. But she sent Jobo to go check on me. I paced the room debating if I should just push through, let him in, and go join them. I decided against it and shooed him off. But with God’s loving and relentless providence, He sends Ate down to check on me who refuses to let me keep the door locked. I open the door, and immediately she just scoops me up in all my despair and lets me cry in her arms. We spend the rest of the night just laying in my bed as I word vomit all the sadness I had been bottling up.

Finally the day came when my doctor wouldn't let me sit in my thoughts anymore. It just wasn't safe. So she made me promise I’d take myself to the hospital, call her when I got there, and have the hospital call her if they didn’t admit me. I drove home completely stunned, shocked, and dumbfounded that it had actually reached that point. It was one of those drives I had no idea how I got home. Very emptily, I packed my stuff trying to accept the fact that I was going to the hospital with a very high chance of me staying there overnight. My brother called in that moment, and that’s when I started to break. He told me, “This is only the beginning, and I can’t wait to see you come out the other side. You’re gonna be so much stronger.” He then asked if I wanted him and Rose to come out, and very timidly, I said yes. It was hard for me to admit, but I really really needed them in that moment. I needed the assurance of love. I needed to know it was going to be okay. I needed to be taken care of. So I gave in.

That night was by far the scariest moment of my life. Kuya and Ate stayed with me till the doctors and nurses said that was as far as they could go and as long as they could stay. My heart sunk in that moment as things started to get more and more real with them leaving. I did my orientation interview with the nurse, and that’s when she told me the soonest I could get out of there was Monday bc the minimum was usually 3 days and the discharge doctor doesn’t work on weekends. Monday was 4 days away. I went to bed that night in medical robes and bawled myself to sleep. If I didn’t have a roommate I would probably be wailing with every bit of fear and anxiety within me. I was doing one of those big silent cries, where the weight is so heavy but I’m not able to make a sound.

The next 4 days were intense as I had to face my darkness straight in the eyes for my first time, with no other distractions, no other escape. I spent my days calling anyone I possibly could from those free phones, just desperate to hear a voice outside those hospital walls. Something to keep me grounded that there is life outside of this, there is hope and people waiting for me. I lived for 4-5pm, the one hour a day we were allowed to have visitors. That first day in particular, it felt like forever till Ate got there. Ohhh but when she did, it was over. We were a mess. We both hated that I was there, and we both desperately wanted me to leave, but I just couldn’t. The following days Ced and Rose were there, and a couple times even brought me the Eucharist :) It was a scary time, but also very reflective. At this point I was 99.9999% convinced I was made for suicide, and if anyone found me loved and lovable, it was them that was being deceived. But the nurses and doctors couldn’t understand why I was there because it was clear I had a good life and was blessed with a solid support system. But as I was reading through my notes from my time there - which I almost never do, except this year - I wrote what one of the doctors told me, “life starts over every 5 years, stick around and see if it gets good.”

And well, here I am 5 years later, and for the first time, instead of running in fear from the memories of this time in year, the only word I can come up with to sum up how I’m feeling is REJOICE. This year on October 22 all I wanted to do was rejoice over the memories. Instead of hiding in shame, I wanted everyone to know it’s been 5 years bc I’m honestly so proud. Because waking up on October 22, 2020 it felt like I could finally exhale. There’s something about this year that makes me feel like I can finally say, “You did it. You survived. It’s over.” There’s something about this year that makes it feel like this chapter of depression is finally over, and I can now move on. And I wish I can tell you what exactly made it that way, but I just can’t. Maybe there’s more to process, but it’s as if I just found myself on the other side. The other side that Ced talked to me about right before I went in. It’s like one of those war movies, where the scene cuts just as they’re in the middle of big explosions, and everything feels overwhelming. But the very next scene is the solider waking up, and the next thing he knows is the war is done. The battle was won, he fought the good fight, and he’s free to return home. That’s where I’ve seemed to find myself. It’s as if I found myself with the strength that Ced almost prophesied over me right before I went in. And it blows me away that on the one year I’m actually brave enough to read my old notes, this is the one I find - “life starts over every 5 years, stick around and see if it gets good.” And it’s not even that I would write to Past Mare of 5 years ago and say, “Yes! Stick around bc it does get good!” As if all this will go away soon and all my dreams will come true. Bc that 100% didn’t happen. But I would tell myself “stick around, feel the feels, voice all the thoughts, and just keep fighting. bc one day, you will find yourself free.”

Bc that’s exactly how I feel - free. It’s as if I’ve been chained down all this time, and by God’s grace the locks have been broken, and I can walk free, no conditions, no tricks, just free. Almost like Genie at the end of Aladdin. He fought the fight, he was faithful, and now the cuffs are simply off and he’s free to go. Just like that. And every time I’ve tried to write this out, pray this out, talk this out, I am brought to tears bc the freedom isn’t just from the fear and despair I felt 5 years ago in that hospital. The truth is that hospital bed was a lonnnng time coming. The tears of rejoicing that I shed now are not only for Hospital-Mare 5 years ago, but for St. Rose-Mare 7 years ago who felt like a piece of shit every single day, Newly Graduated-Mare 8 years ago who felt life was hopeless, Senior Year of College-Mare 9 years ago who couldn’t help but be attracted to the idea, and Senior Year of High School-Mare 13 years ago who felt no one would even notice or care. Bc for the first time in 13 years I am no longer plagued by the conviction that my life is irreversibly hopeless and helpless, that I am intrinsically unloved and unlovable, and that as sure as the sun will rise, I am destined for suicide. For the first time in 5 years I am no longer afraid of this time of year bc there is a still but sure certainty that my life is about to change as this 13 year battle has finally come to an end. Not that depression will be fully behind me and will no longer be a thing for me for the rest of my life, but that depression no longer runs my life. Depression no longer dictates my life. Depression may still be in the car, but it no longer drives the car of my life. And I can’t help but weep over this triumph.

It’s such a trippy and almost anticlimactic experience though bc there really isn’t 1 particular moment I can point to. (Well maybe there is but that might be for another story ;)) But even then, there was more before leading up to that moment. Like so many people, 2020 has brought a lot of loss for me. But most of mine are relationships (for different reasons). I lost a couple relationships with people who have guided me through many years of my life; I lost a very personal and close relationship; I lost the relationships from my job and all those that came with it (at least the nature of them). And while each loss has brought a lot of grief, worry, and tears, at the end of the day there was peace bc it all just felt part of the plan. It felt like watching the series finale of a show where everything starts to find resolution, bringing the show to a final and peaceful close. With every loss this year, it felt like another resolution and another part of the story coming to an end. It felt like the final pages of a book closing. And something in me just knew, this is it.

And again, I wish I could say I went to the hospital and that was it. Life was beautiful and perfect and made complete sense. But that’s just not true. I went 2 more times before moving back home to Cali and went another time for a very long stretch for what ended up being lupus. I lost a lot of dreams and cried many tears of agony and frustration and honestly straight anger towards God. But I had to keep moving. The freedom I live in now didn’t come with one big moment. It came with the last 5 years after the hospital, and the 4 years before the hospital, of doing the hard work in therapy. I had to learn to grow in trust and vulnerability. I had to learn how to receive care and love (probably the hardest part of it all). I had to be docile to practice what I was learning in therapy. I had be honest with my thoughts and feelings to myself, my therapist, the group I was in therapy with, and most especially with those closest to me, especially those I lived with. It also took a lot of trial and error wth medication. It took hard work, and a lot of it was being brave enough to enter into the darkness, let myself feel the feelings and voice the thoughts. It took a lot of letting people speak truth to me and even speaking truth to myself, even if it all felt like a lie. It took faithfulness to holy hours, receiving the Eucharist, and daily prayer time even if all I had was anger or indifference towards God, even if it all felt empty and pointless. It took repeating the name of Jesus, endlessly reciting the Memorare, and begging for St. Michael’s intercession in the scariest moments of my depression. It took long, hard work, but what brings me to cry tears of rejoicing now is not only how long it’s taken me to get here, but remembering the faithfulness of God to His promises.

7 years ago I was given the penance to read the Gospel of Mark, and the verse that struck me right away was Mk 5:41 “Taking her by the hand He said to her, ‘Talitha cumi,’ which means, ‘little girl I say to you, arise.’” Instantly, I knew the Lord was talking to me. The first promise.

5 years ago hiding in my hospital bed, I was looking for a specific verse in Isaiah, but I ended up on Is 43:18-19 “Remember not the events of past, the things of old consider not; see I am doing a new thing! Do you not perceive it? In the wilderness I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers.” Once again, instinctively I knew this was for me. It was the beginning that Ced was talking to me about before going in. The second promise.

Over the last few months, the verse that I find myself repeating to myself over and over, especially in times of most anxiety, fear, and worry is Jer 29:11 “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.” The third promise.

This year I can’t help but cry as I look at this picture and reminisce on all the intense trapped darkness because I feel like I am now standing in the fulfillment of these promises He made to me so long ago. I just feel like He’s saying, “it’s time.” It’s finally time for me to rise up. It’s finally time for me to see this new thing He’s been building and shaping for me. It’s finally time for me to walk on the water. It’s time for me to rise out of my fear and reclaim the life and joy depression has stolen from me all those years. And in that rising, in that reclaiming, also comes the gift, the permission, the freedom to dream again and the grace and courage to pursue those dreams. Me! Me, dream again! It’s the most surreal experience that I could actually be free to walk into the light, dare to dream anew, and live unafraid of the consequences should failure come. Me! Unafraid! I just keep thinking, who the heck do I think I am that I could dream and live unafraid? That I could be free to live life joyfully again? To live bravely? To live unchained? Who am I? And I honestly can’t answer that. I can’t say I’m deserving. I can’t say to myself it is safe and possible. But the Lord in all His patience and authority just keeps saying, it is time. Today, once again in God’s providence, I happen to come across Dn 10:19 “Fear not, beloved, you are safe; take courage and be strong.” And I just feel like He’s like “Yes, you!” haha. What trips me up is realizing that healing isn’t always this big, extravagant thing. Sometimes, it’s the slow but steady work of God. Sometimes it’s just doing the work day in and day out, and being faithful to that work, and one day the Lord gives you the grace to see you’re already there. The fight is won, and you are free. No strings attached, no tricks. Just free. 

I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I’ll be honest, I’ve been fighting the Lord like “Are you sure??! bc I have no idea how to do life outside of this depressed world!” I feel like Rapunzel in Tangled, who dreams all those years of leaving her tower to pursue the lights. But once her chance has finally come and she’s able to taste a new, free life, guilt takes over her, and she goes back and forth if it was the right decision - Do I dare to believe my identity could be more than my depression? This reality I’ve known for so much of my life. Do I dare take the Lord up on His offer and leave my dark tower? - But as she keeps going and finally makes it to the boats, she admits she’s afraid, “what if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?…and what if it is?” To which she’s told, “that’s the good part, you get to dream a new dream.” And as things unfold, she suddenly finds herself unafraid. And that’s where I feel I am. It’s scary bc I don’t have all the answers, I don’t have it all completely mapped out like I’d like, but all I know is it is finally my time to arise. It’s time for me to feel that water as I step out of the boat. It's time to dare to dream again, dare to live life again, and this time walk along side our Lord every step of the way. Let Him dream His dreams through me. Let my dreams unite with His. And dare I admit, I’m actually getting excited about it! :)

It’s scary, and it calls for a new level of vulnerability, and I am begging everyday for the courage to lean into this new life. But at this point all I can say is I can’t believe I made it! I can’t believe it’s over! I can’t believe I survived! And I know I wouldn't be here if it weren’t for the countless prayer warriors I have out there, prayer warriors I’m not even aware of. All the prayers, the rosaries, the Masses, the holy hours that have been offered up for me. Graces I’m sure I will be unpacking for the rest of my life. And I most especially wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for those closest to me while I was in the thick of it. Special shout out to the Urginos, to my parents, to Ced and Rose, to Ming and King, and to Age - those that literally stopped their lives just to be by my side 5 years ago. And to Hyds and Anhel who dealt with every frantic text during that time (and who still do) and never tired of speaking truth to me. I’ve screenshotted so many of our texts, and I still go back to them every now and then on some of my hardest days. And of course to my therapists, my doctors, my spiritual directors. For carrying every heavy thought with me and never letting up. And finally, to all my Kuya and Ate Saints, I know it was you guys holding me up and keeping me close to the Lord when I couldn’t do it myself.

Glory to God through Mary! I have no idea what’s next, but thank You in advance for whatever happens from here. Let’s get it!  :)

LDM

[tinylilemrys]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MY DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

Read it on AO3

Summary:

Folk-musician, Merlin Emrys, feels like he’s slowly but surely getting his foot in the door in the music industry. He has a decent following on social media, a gig almost every other night and people have (mostly) stopped pouring beer into his guitar case as a tip. But when an old friend of Gwen’s offers him a slot as the warm-up act for one of his favourite musicians on a live music show watched worldwide, Merlin finds his career fast-tracked.

Now, navigating fake relationships, tabloid gossip, the paparazzi, corporate scandals and a rather unfortunate crush on Arthur Pendragon, the handsome owner of Excalibur Records, Merlin is learning that big dreams come at a huge price.

It was extremely difficult for Merlin to decide what he was meant to be feeling in that moment.

He supposed that part of him had always suspected that something was off with Mordred, but it had been pleasantly suppressed by mild hero-worship and even stronger attraction. Now every uneasy laugh, perplexing remark and sideways glance was thrown into sharp relief. Kara and Mordred. Kara and Mordred Jones. God, they had the same surname – how could it be possible that no one had drawn the connection before?

He disentangled himself from Mordred and took a step back.

“How is that even possible?”

“We were childhood sweethearts,” Mordred replied, raking an unsteady hand through his unwashed curls. “Please, Merlin, I’ll explain everything to you as soon as we get out of here.”

“Not a fuck, Mordred.” He let out a huff of humourless laughter. “I have the utmost sympathy for you. Believe me, I do. But you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not thrilled at the idea of going off somewhere with someone who has just admitted to living a lie for the past however many years.”

“Merlin…” Mordred frustratedly pleaded. When Merlin refused to budge, Mordred sighed. “Fine, come here.”

He grabbed Merlin’s elbow and directed him around the corner, where there were fewer people.

“Okay, if telling you the whole sordid story means that you’ll actually agree to come with me, here it goes. Kara and I got married in our last year of secondary. She’d found out that she was pregnant and her parents, who are the worst kind of religious nutters, insisted we get married to preserve her virtue or whatever. We were young. Really young. Too young. God, sixteen isn’t the age to be making any lasting life decisions, but we were in love and excited and stupid. It all felt like some brilliant adventure at the time. Then Kara lost the baby and her parents wanted us to get a divorce even though we’d never needed each other more. So we ran away to London, changed our surname from Owen to Jones and started a new life.”

Merlin’s heart constricted painfully. As the words kept tumbling out of Mordred’s mouth, Merlin wondered when he had last had someone to talk to about this.

“Kara had wanted to be a journalist for as long as I’d known her, so we both worked our arses off to put her through college, while at the same time trying to save enough so that she could go to uni. Kara always insisted that I use my free nights to find places to play my music and that’s how Agravaine found me. I was playing at this seedy little pub one night and he came up to me afterwards and asked me how much I was being paid for the gig. It wasn’t much. I mean, I was completely unknown at the time and – you’ll know – anything you get paid for your music when you’re first starting out seems too good to be true. Anyway, I told Agravaine and he immediately went to the pub owner and demanded he pay me more. The bloke was reluctant at first but Agravaine was relentless and I eventually got paid triple what we’d first agreed on. It was the most money I had seen in a long time and I was convinced then that Agravaine was some kind of godsend, so when he left his card and asked me to call him when I was ready to make a real career out of music, I immediately went home to discuss it with Kara.”

“And then you signed up with Agravaine?” asked Merlin with a grimace. Everything was beginning to make a twisted amount of sense.

“Not initially,” Mordred replied. “Kara and I had a meeting with him and told him that we couldn’t afford to risk everything when we were so close to finally having enough for Kara to study. Agravaine, slimy git that he is, told us not worry about all that and immediately began making arrangements. It was barely ten minutes later when he announced that Kara had a place at a really good school for the next academic year, all paid for, provided that we both sign contracts with him.

“And we signed them. Of course we signed them. We had spent our late teens as poor as church mice, trying to scrape together enough for some kind of future. This seemed like chance of a lifetime. We didn’t realise at the time that we’d effectively sold our souls. It didn’t matter as much then that part of my contract was that I couldn’t be seen in a relationship so that I was more marketable, because I was so thrilled to be making a real living from my music. And the knowledge that part of Kara’s contract was that Agravaine would have a say in whatever she published seemed completely harmless while she was studying and there were no major stakes. As long as we were discrete and careful about what we did, we had a new peace freedom that felt exciting and foreign. It was like suddenly remembering that we weren’t old. We still had so much life left.

“It was only when all the shit with Arthur happened that I realised something was off.”

Merlin didn’t respond to this. He waited with bated breath to hear Mordred’s side of the story that swam to the surface of his mind in moments of insecurity.

“We don’t have to talk about the Arthur stuff if you’d rather not,” said Mordred glancing over at Merlin. “I know things are probably still really raw for you.”

“Like they aren’t for you?” said Merlin. “Honestly, just tell me what happened, Mordred.”

“Well, there’s not actually that much to it, other than the fact that I think Agravaine was hoping to use me to publicly out him. I had stupidly mentioned at some point that I was bi and Agravaine latched on to the idea with a scary amount of enthusiasm. He initially encouraged and later demanded that I get close to Arthur – that I flirt with Arthur. I refused at first because the idea of cheating on Kara made me sick to my stomach, but he quickly threatened to tank her career just as it was finally starting to take off. So I did it. I flirted my arse off and Arthur was so desperately lonely and repressed that it didn’t take long for it to look like Agravaine was going to get what he wanted. We kissed a few times and went on one or two dates that might as well have been two blokes just hanging out for how careful Arthur was about them. I felt cheaper at that time than I ever had when Kara and I were earning barely enough to scrape by.

“It was just as I was working out that it was starting to become more than just messing around for Arthur – that he was starting to develop real feelings for me – that Agravaine pulled me from Excalibur and forced me to sign with Mercia. I realised then that I was just a puppet to be used for whatever shitty thing he needed me to do. From that point on, if he needed dirt on an artist or celebrity, he’d send me in and… well let’s just say Kara and I had an arrangement when it came to Agravaine ‘jobs’. They didn’t count, but they still hurt. In our sickening new routine, I’d flirt, kiss and sleep with whoever Agravaine’s victim was and pass Kara the information to publish in whatever celebrity rag offered the most for it.”

“Like with the car park incident with Valiant and Cenred? Was that Agravaine using you?”

“No,” said Mordred, scrubbing a hand down his pale and exhausted face. “Val and Ced work for Agravaine too, so I wasn’t needed there. But, for instance, with you…”

“Ah,” said Merlin, another few puzzle pieces slotting into place. “I was an Agravaine assignment.”

“Yeah,” said Mordred, his hand balling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. “When you and Arthur were still… well, Agravaine suspected that the relationship was bullshit so he initially wanted me to get you to ditch Arthur for me to confirm his suspicions. Once Arthur told him everything, it wasn’t necessary anymore. But then you guys had the breakup and Agravaine wanted to discredit your relationship with Arthur without outright saying that it was fake, so he got me a last minute ticket to the Mortal Labyrinth premiere with the mission to make sure we connected.”

“It worked,” said Merlin, resolving never to doubt Gwen ever again. That girl knew what was up.

“It did,” said Mordred, “And fuck, Merlin, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how involved you got with feelings but I promise you that I really didn’t want to hurt you. It’s what happens when you give any part of your life to Agravaine – he uses it to mercilessly control you. It was only after Ellie said that thing about risk being worth it if you love someone that I actually summoned the courage to find a plan for Kara and I to escape Agravaine. But Agravaine… he’s even more ruthless and powerful than we thought and now Kara…”

Mordred closed his eyes as if just the thought was causing him physical pain. He breathed deeply for a moment or two before opening his eyes to look at Merlin again. At any other time Merlin would have felt uncomfortable at this much eye-contact with another person, but Mordred’s eyes were hollow and hungry, as if desperately trying to grasp at whatever warmth and hope they could get and Merlin found that he couldn’t look away.

Eventually though, Mordred glanced down at his pocket to pull out his mobile.

“She tried to warn me,” he said, tapping open his photo album. His brow was deeply furrowed as he swiped to find the image he was looking for. Once it appeared that he had found it, he thrust the phone into Merlin’s hand. “That was her suicide note. I took a photo because they wouldn’t let me keep it. She left me a message, Merlin. She had a gun or god knows what pointed at her and she somehow still had the presence of mind to send me a message.”

Though slightly perturbed at the idea of being let in on the personal last words of a woman he had actively disliked (as much as he tried to reason that this was actually Agravaine’s fault), Merlin read the note.

my songbird

i hate to do this but it can’t go on anymore. there’s so much to say, but not enough time to say it. i’m so Very sorry for putting you through All of this. i only wish that i had more time now to assure you of how much i Love you And the immeasurable worth of what you have been for me through the cruelly Numbered years. oh how i wish i could steal a few more days, hours, moments to repay you, but something Dark and evil is pushing me towards the edge And i’ve run out of time to give.

always know, love, that i never wanted to leave you. i tried to stay as long as i could, but i have to Go. there’s no other way out.

also know, love, that i never Regretted Any of the Very short days i spent with you. even in the hard times when it All seemed impossible, you were what I woke up for each morning – all i ever Needed. my Everything.

oh my love, i need you To promise now to hold Onto the sweet, Kind, gentle heart of the man I fell in Love with. don’t Let this make you bitter and cold and don’t ever think that this is because you didn’t love me enough.

YOU were perfect, this world was not.

all my love until i see you again

kara

p.s. we’ll always have paris - x –

Merlin’s initial thought upon seeing the unusual punctuation was that the stress of her situation had screwed up her command of the English language, until he noticed that underneath the photocopy of her note, scrawled in hasty blue pen, was another note.

VAL AND AGRAVAINE TO KILL YOU

Merlin scanned through Kara’s words again, his eyes darting to each strangely capitalised word, and he was blown away at what she had somehow managed to do despite being faced with the imminent end of her life.

“She was a genius,” said Mordred softly, probably noticing the mixture of surprise and horror Merlin felt as it crept across his face. “A stupid, selfless genius who used her last moments to warn me instead of naming her killer.”

“Holy shit, Mordred,” said Merlin. “What now?”

“I’ve been working with Chief Inspector Katherine Annis. She’s on my side a hundred percent, but says she has to leave the case alone for now because she’s using it to sniff out officers who she believes are being paid to deliberately change the outcome of cases like this. That’s where I was hoping to take you now. She thinks that Aridean is going to try to pin Kara and Arthur on us, painting it like we worked together to… she just wants to make sure that you know what might happen.”

“When is she expecting us?”

“In the next fifteen minutes or so. If we leave now, we should make it on time.”

“Okay, I’m going to go with you,” said Merlin, “but first let me run in to let Arthur know. With all the shit going on, I don’t want to disappear and have him worry about me.” Mordred nodded and Merlin immediately began sprinting back towards the entrance of the hospital.

He almost tripped over his feet when, to his surprise, he saw Arthur striding gingerly towards him. His face was deeply etched with concern that eased slightly when he noticed Merlin. In his attempts to reach him, Arthur stumbled clumsily and almost fell over. Merlin immediately rushed to him and reached out a hand to help stabilise him. It wasn’t a moment later that he heard the first siren and somehow instinctively knew that it was for him.

“My love, they’re about to take me away,” said Merlin, taking a step closer to Arthur. “I know you’re not altogether here right now, but please try to understand and remember as much of this as possible. They’re going to say some things about me that aren’t true. They’re going to say that I killed Kara Jones and that I tried to kill you too. That I did it because I love Mordred. Don’t listen to a word of it, alright? I love you more than anything and I would never ever do anything to intentionally hurt you, you hear me?”

The sirens were so loud they were almost deafening. Merlin, unsure of what was about to happen to him, pulled Arthur into one last hug.

“I love you,” he repeated.

“What’s going on, Merlin?” his eyes were wide with concern and in that moment, it was hard to believe that Merlin was seven years younger than him. He looked so impossibly small and defeated.

“I love you, Arthur,” Merlin said again, as police officers began surrounding him.

“Merlin Emrys,” smirked DI Aredian, his voice a perfect mirror of the cold, steely cuffs now being snapped around his wrists, “you are under arrest for the murder of Kara Jones and the attempted murder of Arthur Pendragon. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

A few feet away from him, Mordred was also being served his police caution.

Merlin tried to keep his eyes fixed on his angry and confused Arthur, who at first tried to fight his way through the line of police officers in front of him to get to Merlin, but was now just watching on as Merlin was manhandled into the back of the nearest police car. As they drove off, a nurse was clutching Arthur’s arm, trying to tug him inside and away from the cameras, but he wouldn’t budge.

The last thing Merlin saw as they rounded the corner was Arthur, resolutely still and seemingly impervious to the chaos around him. He had no way of knowing, but every wish he had left went into hoping that Arthur wouldn’t lose faith in him. The small hope that Arthur would still love and trust him after all of this had been cleared up was the only thing that was going to get him through this.

That, and the certain knowledge that Agravaine was behind this and that someday soon he would be rotting in a prison cell, far out of the reach of anyone Merlin loved and cared about.

***

Merlin, like most musicians who had dreamed of making it big someday, imagined his life post-breakout in detail. He had imagined signing the record contract, hearing his first single on the radio, playing his first stadium gig to a sold-out audience.

Never in a million years did he imagine that his music career would lead to the cold Scotland Yard holding cell in which he now found himself.

As he lay on the bed, staring up at the bleak grey of the ceiling above him, he wondered how much of what was happening to him could have been avoided by just becoming the marketer he had studied to become. He wouldn’t be in this cell, for one. He would have never had to stare into the cold eyes of Kara Jones. He would never have been betrayed by Mordred. He would never have had to deal with Agravaine.

You also would have never met Arthur, said a familiar unhelpful voice in his head. And doesn’t he make all of this worth it?

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps and the sound of his bars being unlocked.

“Hands behind your back, please, Mr Emrys. You’re being taken to the interrogation room,” explained the kinder-looking of the two officers now entering his cell. The other began slipping another set of heavy cuffs around his wrists. Merlin briefly considered making a comment about how they should buy him a drink first, but thought better of it. If Agravaine had people on the inside, the last thing he wanted was to make things worse for himself.

The officers and Merlin made their way down one or two of the frigid passages, finally entering through an unassuming door halfway down one of them. After removing his cuffs, they sat Merlin in a chair on one side of the wooden table so that he was faced with his reflection in the two-way mirror on the opposite wall. The two days he had been locked up had not been kind to him. A five-o’-clock shadow dusted his face and his black eye was enhanced by the dark rings under his eyes from the stress of the last few days. Merlin felt anger bubble beneath the surface of his skin. This was unfair and sick. His boyfriend had been poisoned two days ago and had barely begun his recovery when Merlin had last seen him. No one had told him anything since he had arrived here, even though Katherine Annis supposedly knew that he was innocent, if Mordred was to be believed. What if Agravaine had got to Arthur? What if he was in danger right now? Merlin was completely powerless to protect him and the knowledge of it made every minute in these icy walls pure agony.

Merlin’s inner tirade was interrupted by another tirade right outside the door.

“… and as such it is my job to interrogate any and all suspects. I will not let you interfere and tamper with my case.”

The second voice was much calmer and more measured – dangerous even.

“You’re forgetting your place, Aredian. If you continue being insubordinate I will take you off this case faster than you can say ‘incompetence’. Now as your murder and attempted murder case has also turned into a likely kidnapping at the hand of one of your officers, I suggest you get to the important task of finding the victim. I will interrogate the suspects.”

There was the sound of furious strides down the hallway and then the door of the room was creaking open again.

He recognised her as soon as he saw her. Her red hair was pulled back into a severe bun that mirrored the rigid and restrained nature of her expression. Though Merlin noted that she was shorter than he had thought she was when watching her on the news, she was still clearly not someone to be trifled with. Despite this, her face softened as she settled on the chair on the other side of the table and her expression softened into the warmest look he had received since his arrest.

“Merlin Emrys, I’m DCI Katherine Annis,” she said, extending a hand for Merlin to shake which Merlin did. “Firstly, that red light on the wall means that this conversation is being listened to but not by any of Aredian’s people, so you don’t have to be afraid of what you say. Secondly, on behalf of the Met, I would like to apologise for what we’ve put you through these past few days.”

The horrible reality of her words to Aredian suddenly struck Merlin and he looked at her in terror.

“God, did you say that there’s been a kidnapping? Who? Not Arthur?”

Annis’ expression softened further into what looked like pity and Merlin’s worst fears were confirmed.

“He disappeared from the hospital yesterday,” she explained. “Security footage shows what appears to be one of our officers leading Arthur from his room in the early hours of the morning. Neither of them has been spotted since.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” yelled Merlin, feeling all the simmering anger of the past few days rise to the surface. “Aren’t you people supposed to be watching people who have recently almost been murdered? Or is that just the old-fashioned way the police operate?”

“Merlin, I understand that you’re upset, but I can –“

“UPSET? I’m fucking livid!” Merlin was standing now, kicking back his chair in anger. The officer standing against the wall took a step closer, but Annis raised a hand to stop him. “You knew someone wanted him dead – you knew that someone actively tried to kill him! How the fuck did you let this happen?”

“Merlin, I don’t know how much Mordred told you before you were arrested, but we are in the process of trying to uncover a number of officers that we believe are corrupt. For obvious reasons, we haven’t been able to brief everyone. It was my understanding that the officers I posted to protect Mr Pendragon were clean. I had personally mentored them. Please know that if I had had the slightest suspicion otherwise they wouldn’t have been placed anywhere near that room.”

“Yeah that’s great and all but that doesn’t change the fact that my boyfriend is missing or hurt or… or worse and it’s your incompetence that made it possible. God and when were you planning to tell me? After he showed up dead somewhere?”

Merlin’s breath was growing shallow and panicky. He needed air. He needed out – to find Arthur before something awful happened to him. He could just walk out. Why shouldn’t he? He wasn’t a suspect and Annis knew it. What possible repercussions could there be?

A moment after this thought crossed his mind, the door to the interrogation room was being opened again. Merlin was so relieved to see a friendly face, to see someone as confused and furious as he was that as soon as Mordred’s cuffs were unlocked, Merlin hugged him tightly, taking comfort in the warmth and understanding he found there and trying to radiate as much of it back as possible.

The tears were falling before he had time to think about stopping them.

Mordred put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and led them to the table. Annis said nothing but offered Merlin a packet of tissues from her pocket which he reluctantly took.

“Has there been a new development? Is that why we’re both here?” Mordred asked, his voice tired and worn. Merlin wondered if he had slept at all since he found out about Kara’s death.

“We have security footage of what appears to be an as of yet unidentified officer leading Arthur from his hospital room. Neither has been seen since then.”

Mordred looked as livid as Merlin felt, but instead of shouting his feelings as Merlin had, he simply folded his arms and waited for what Annis would say next.

“We have a team of analysts trying to identify the officer in the security footage which will give us a much clearer idea of what happened. In the meantime, our hope is that DI Aredian will lead us to wherever Arthur is being held. Mordred, the reason I called you here is that we need to find out what Kara knew. We have been from the bottom to the top of her flat and we can’t find anything that would drive Agravaine to have her killed.”

“We wanted out,” said Mordred. “We were planning to break our contracts with him.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Annis replied, “but what I don’t understand is why Agravaine would take the dangerous route of having Kara killed instead of just tanking your careers like he threatened to. He doesn’t strike me as the type to make life more difficult for himself than it needs to be. Then there’s his excuse for all those calls between him and Kara that day. I don’t think the story about the article is as made up as we once believed it was.”

“Are you saying that Kara was planning to publish something on Agravaine?” asked Merlin. “Why wouldn’t she just publish it then? Why call him up about it?”

“She must have been using it as a bargaining chip to guarantee that Agravaine would leave us alone,” said Mordred, now paler than he had been a moment ago, “and she buried it when she realised that Agravaine was far more likely to get rid of her than negotiate with her.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Annis agreed. She shuffled through the pages of the file in front of her, finally pulling out a copy of Kara’s suicide note – the one Mordred had showed him a photo of. This time, Merlin saw that the line “p.s. we’ll always have paris – x” was underlined and that “paris” was circled with two enormous question marks scrawled next to it. “This is the only line of Kara’s note that still doesn’t make sense to me. Based on the composition of the rest of her note, it seems too casual and superficial to not be intentional. With that in mind, can you please tell me what significance Paris played in your relationship?”

“I’ve told you – it’s where we went for our honeymoon,” Mordred replied as if the memory of it caused him physical pain to recall. “I don’t understand why she couldn’t have just been leaving me a reminder of what was probably the last time either of us was truly happy.”

Annis was quiet for a moment and spoke her next sentence as if measuring each word.

“Of course that’s what she was doing on one level, but your wife has proven that she was a masterful writer. Every word, every letter and punctuation mark in this letter is intentional and right now the only part of it we haven’t deciphered is this line. It may be the clue that leads us to her dirt on Agravaine, so I need you to really think – was there perhaps an inside joke or personal story the two of you shared that was linked to Paris?”

“None that immediately spring to mind,” said Mordred. “And it would be kind of pointless for her to leave a secret message about something I can’t remember, not so?”

“Very well,” said Annis, reaching down next to her for a box. “Here’s another idea. These are all items from her flat that have any connection to Paris or France. Is there anything in here that tells you anything?”

She handed Mordred a pair of latex gloves which he pulled on before gently removing the contents of the box one by one with trembling hands. There was nothing too thrilling amongst the seemingly random assortment of objects: a set of car keys with an Eiffel Tower key ring, a mug that bore the slogan ‘reste calme et parlons Français’ on a background of the French flag, a glittering snow globe containing a miniature Notre Dame and a men’s “Paris Je T’aime” t-shirt. So when Mordred removed the final item, a simple wooden jewellery box, and Merlin was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the sight, he couldn’t help but gasp.

“You recognise it?” said Annis, her brow furrowing in confusion as she handed Merlin a pair of gloves so that he could handle it.

“Not this one exactly,” said Merlin, noting that the design differed slightly. Where Kara’s box had the Eiffel Tower burnt onto the top of it, the one Merlin had known had had the Palace of Versailles instead. “My best friend had a box like this growing up. He got it when his mum passed away. We used to use it to hide all of our contraband. You know… like sweets and stuff.”

Annis raised a suspicious eyebrow and Merlin felt his ears grow hot under her gaze. It was probably best not to admit to his teenage drug use in front of the police. He hastily finished pulling on his gloves and took the box gently from Mordred.

“Anyway, if I’m right and this is the same kind of box, there’s a false bottom to it. I just need to…” Merlin opened the hinged lid and slid the front face of the box up to reveal the slot for the false bottom. He was right. Gently, he reached into the box and slid out the thin sheet of wood that formed the bottom, gasping at the sight of a flash drive padded with socks to keep it from rattling.

“Oh my god, that has to be it,” said Mordred, staring at it with wide eyes. “That has to be the Agravaine story.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Annis, standing up abruptly from the desk and addressing the officer standing against the wall. “Daira, please take all this back to the evidence room. I’m taking Mr Emrys and Mr Jones to my office.”

“Of course Ma’am,” Daira replied, immediately stepping over to the table and pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Follow me,” said Annis, leading them out of the interrogation room and down one or two indistinguishable corridors until they arrived at an office with the words ‘Detective Chief Inspector Katherine Annis’ emblazoned across the window. Annis hastily unlocked the office door and practically threw herself into her seat, plugging in the flash drive as she did. A few moments later, her eyes widened. “It’s all here. Oh my god, she was an absolute genius.”

She beckoned Mordred and Merlin to stand on her side of the computer and showed them what she was seeing. It was almost beyond belief. There were files upon files of evidence she had collected over the years – conversations that she had recorded both in person and over the phone (including the most recent ones between her and Agravaine on the day of her death), copies of her articles before and after Agravaine had distorted them into near fiction, folders full of incriminating photos and video footage and finally, a file entitled ‘My Deal with the Devil’ which Merlin realised must be the article that had led to her death.

“Open it,” said Mordred.

“Mordred, are you sure?” said Merlin, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Won’t it be distressing for you?”

“She wants it to be read so that’s what I’m going to do,” he said, setting his jaw.

“I want to read it too, so for the sake of time I’ll read it out loud,” said Annis, opening the file.

In the most laughably unfunny and ironic way, this story (which was supposed to be my ticket to freedom and a life that actually belongs to me), has turned out to be my death sentence. You have to know that, off the bat, when I first sat down to type these words, to tell this story, it was with the mindset that I would finally be able to escape and stop living this lie in which I’m trapped. And while it’s possible that the threats of murder and rape that have been set to me in the past few hours might not come to anything, if you are reading this now, you know now what this man is capable of.

Agravaine Du Bois is the devil and I am one of the fools who sold their soul for his lies.

I am not alone in this – just the first to actually have their soul demanded from them. Du Bois, unassuming as he seems at first glance, is a master manipulator with numerous flies trapped in his web of deceit, including the one person I love more than life itself. It is for his sake now that I lay out this demon’s many sins. It’s too late for me, I know that now, but I’m hoping that by some grace I don’t deserve, he won’t suffer the same fate.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

In the beginning, there was a young man and the young woman who fell in love with him. Some would argue that we were too young – even we concede as much on nights when we drink and bitterly mutter about how different things might have been. Back then I was the practical, repressed, self-righteous result of an upbringing that taught me that life was a set of rules and consequences for breaking them. How then could my head not be turned by the beautiful, poetic mind of Mordred Owen, who believed wholeheartedly that life was a set of experiences and that the only lasting consequence life had to offer was regret at not taking every chance at adventure that life handed him?

Kara then began her beautifully woven telling of Mordred’s story from a few mornings ago, and Merlin felt his mind about her change. They really had just been two scared and exhausted kids who wanted a chance at a better life. Everything that followed, all the bile and wretchedness, was all Agravaine’s doing.

Mordred and I suffered this new adventure gladly. Though our time together was limited and highly clandestine, we both took comfort in the fact that the other was doing what they had always dreamed of. Despite the unusual emptiness of my bed, I rested well each night in the knowledge that my husband was finally being recognised for the musical and lyrical genius he was and that our time apart was only for a season while Du Bois set Mordred’s name up in lights.

In my naivety, when signing the contract to give Du Bois final say in the articles I published, I had thought that he had meant it from a place of wanting to offer me additional inside information from the many whispers of the industry to which he was privy. And, to his credit, it started that way. When I wrote my first scathing article about Catrina West making waves for all the wrong reasons, Du Bois supplied me with a seemingly endless supply of evidence that she had lip-synched her way through every single one of her live performances, leading to her fall from grace and my ascent to a position as one of the most prolific celebrity journalists in the UK.

It only escalated from there. Lives have been ruined by the biting words typed at my hand and the further malicious twisting of the truth at Du Bois’. It became increasingly difficult to separate my work and hatred of it from my personality and before long I found myself using my spiteful words as an outlet for my anger and frustration. This, of course, doesn’t excuse the things I’ve written, I am still responsible for not stopping this madness earlier, but you have to understand that this is what Du Bois does. He twists everything so that you eventually forget that you are being coerced into being the villain and actually begin to feel like you are the villain.

My husband was going through the same thing. His forced available bachelor act was beginning to weigh on him and Du Bois’ insistence that he should flirt but never touch made things all the worse. We would steal an evening or two together where we could, but for the most part, we were both incredibly lonely and miserable. The initial glamour of our new lives had worn off and now all either of us wanted to do was go back to what we had known before.

Mordred was the first to crack. In a moment of pure bravery (or stupidity) he insisted that he had been ‘single’ long enough to market himself and it was about time he got to be with his wife again, even if he had to pretend that it was a brand new relationship. Du Bois’ reaction was a malevolent chuckle and condescending ‘we’ll see’. It later transpired that this meant that Agravaine had no intention of letting Mordred be with anyone if it didn’t suit his purposes. And this, in turn, meant that Du Bois fully intended to exploit Mordred’s sexuality.

Despite having to keep it quiet for most of his career, Mordred has never been shy about being bisexual, insisting that it’s just one of many aspects of what makes him who he is. Without Du Bois’ interference, it would never have occurred to him to keep it quiet. Du Bois had other ideas about what would be a deal breaker for his audience and being open about his sexuality was one of them. Besides, didn’t he think that the mystery was so much more fun than the truth? Wasn’t the ambiguity and implication more fun to talk about than the bare black-and-white facts?

This philosophy didn’t last long and Du Bois’ first foray into forcing Mordred into a relationship came with Arthur Pendragon. It was the first of many relationships, both sexual and non-sexual, that my husband had absolutely no say in.

This may seem a shock to those who understand Agravaine Du Bois to be the brother of the late Ygraine Du Bois and therefore Arthur’s seemingly doting uncle, but Du Bois’ relationship with Arthur is insidious to the point of emotionally abusive. To contextualise it, it must be understood that when Ygraine died Du Bois was fully under the impression that he would be inheriting Avalon Records, which at the time was a highly successful independent record label. Instead, Avalon Records was bequeathed to Arthur with Du Bois’ managing it until he came of age. Though the slow decline of the record label has often been attributed to its dated practices and refusal to remain relevant, Du Bois has admitted in so many words (clips available at www.karaknows.com/my-deal-with-the-devil) that he deliberately mismanaged the label so that Arthur’s inheritance would turn out to be far more curse than blessing. Indeed, by the time Arthur inherited it, it was nearly unsalvageable and despite managing to scrape a few more years out of it, Avalon Records closed its doors for good in summer 2009, shortly before Uther Pendragon’s untimely death.

Mordred was one of the first artists signed to Pendragon’s new venture, Excalibur Records, which he began in late 2007 to allow himself the freedom to sign fresh new acts that actually had a half-decent chance of being successful. It was a match made in music heaven. Mordred’s soulful folk was set to put Excalibur Records on the map, which was precisely the opposite of what Excalibur’s new PR Manager, Du Bois, wanted and his subsequent plan to derail it was brutally simple. He would organise a contract buyout with another label, but before that, cause a public relations nightmare that would take Excalibur down with it.

Du Bois had, what was in his mind, the perfect recipe for disaster. He had two handsome, lonely men (one touch-starved and contractually forbidden from being in a relationship and the other desperately repressed and unable to convincingly deny the rumours that he was gay) plus a set of small confined offices where they would see each other every day for hours at a time. All he needed to do was prod Mordred towards Arthur and the tentatively stacked dominos would collapse one after the other.

Merlin put an arm around Mordred as Annis read Kara’s account of Agravaine’s emotional and psychological abuse. It sounded like hell and Merlin realised how lucky he was to only have a black eye to show for their conflict.

That, and an injured and missing boyfriend who was almost murdered, jeered a chillingly malicious voice that sounded an awful lot like Agravaine’s. We mustn’t forget that.

Annis continued reading.

Apart from forced libel and near prostitution, I could go into detail on the extensive list of Du Bois heinous crimes here. There are many. There’s his rumoured embezzlement of Avalon’s Finances (which I would not be surprised to see replicated in the recent financial failings of the once booming Excalibur); his manipulation and coercion of Cenred King and Valiant Wright into carrying out his dirty work, throwing the lives of the band and those connected to them into turmoil; the skilful masterminding of Mordred’s first highly public and completely fake relationship with Merlin Emrys without Merlin being aware of it; for getting Sophia Timor pregnant, blaming it on Arthur and cruelly abandoning her when she stopped being of use to him. I could list the details, but there is simply no longer any time. For that, you will have to visit the aforementioned website and confront the overwhelming evidence for yourself.

There is no more time.

It is here, staring down the barrel of this metaphorical gun that I wish to personally apologise to anyone whom I might have hurt with my biting words and insensitive lack of discretion. Were it up to me alone, many of the things that are now known about you would have remained a tight-lipped secret and many of the rumours that were unfairly spread about you would never have seen the light of day. I take full responsibility for my actions and know that had I been a bit braver, your lives might be very different now. I know I have made a great many enemies and rightly so, but I hope you realise that with freedom over my talents, I would have put them to far better use. I would have been investigating a character like Du Bois as an objective third party. Instead, I am a part of his twisted truth.

Now as part of that truth, knowing that I will not survive the fall, I am dismantling my section of the web and praying the rest unravels with it.

My last words are for the one person to whom it physically pains me to have to say goodbye.

Mordred my love, if you managed to find this and are reading it now, know that I would never trade a single moment that was spent with you. I love you more than any words I put here could possibly express, even if I did have all the time in the world. You don’t feature in a single one of my regrets except that we didn’t get the eighty or so years together it felt like we should have been promised.

Even though I’m afraid, I’m alright now. I’m at peace knowing that even when I’m still, I won’t be silenced. I take solace in knowing that if I’m going down, I’m taking the son of a bitch who ruined your life with me.

Be brave and carry on for me. I know you don’t always see it, but you are a gift to this world. Go show every other practical, repressed, self-righteous little girl and boy that magic is real. That they can be anything they want to be. That they don’t have to settle for being successful, that they can be something far greater – they can be good.

And once I have paid my devil his debt, I too will finally be good.

A chill ran down Merlin’s spine as he opened his arms to envelope Mordred. Enormous silent sobs were racking his body and Merlin felt that if he didn’t hold him, Mordred would shake apart. Tears were stinging his own eyes and even Annis was pulling a tissue across hers.

Kara’s words had cut to the heart of the tragedy that this was. No one in this story had asked to be a part of it. They were the victims of a sociopath who cared nothing for anyone’s interests but his own.

“Right, I’m copying the contents of this drive to my computer and then you two are coming with me.”

“Where are we going?” asked Mordred in a hollow, distant voice. It was gut-wrenching and raw and Merlin felt almost physically ill at the grief of it.

“I think it’s about time Sophia Timor finally had the opportunity to tell the truth.”