#completed fic ideas

[ctrsara]

Happy Accident

Read on AO3

Prompt from @idk-bruh-20

Irondad fic ideas #86 Fic where Happy accidentally calls Tony Peter’s dad.

Maybe Happy is driving him to the tower and Peter’s rambling about everything he wants to do in the lab and Happy comments, “You’re sure excited to spend time with your dad today.” Peter doesn’t notice at first and is like, “Yeah, I love lab days-“ And as they both simultaneously realize what Happy said, it goes silent.

This fic idea was submitted by @itsmechara426 of @irondadmadlads :)

SLAM!

“For the twelfth time, kid. Don’t slam my door.”

“Sorry, Happy!”

“Just remember next time.”

“I will.” 

Happy muttered something under his breath that hopefully not even Peter’s enhanced hearing could pick up.

Happy Hogan didn’t actually even mind driving the kid around, most of the time. Sure, he’d been a little much at first. Happy wasn’t used to kids, and this kid in particular had a lot to say, and did unpredictable kid stuff, and left wrappers in his car, and was always hungry . And left so, so many voicemails that Happy had to listen to, so he could pass on anything important to Tony. But the longer Happy was around the teenager, and saw his selflessness and intense desire to do good, despite what anyone said, the more he admired him. And he’d gotten used to all the talking. Mostly. 

Actually, if he thought about it, Peter gave off a lot of “young Tony” energy. Well, with a lot more politeness and optimism. And really, it was more the Tony who had been excited about what he’d been working on in the lab when he hadn’t been distracted with partying and making tabloid headlines.  But still. Similar.

Speaking of being excited, Peter definitely was today. The kid had been talking a blue streak about something to do with his friends and their Academic Desomething meet the next weekend, but he switched gears just as Happy tuned back in.

“Happy, today in Chemistry we were talking about ( insert a topic Happy definitely didn’t understand ) and how it interacts with ( another unintelligible set of words ) under certain conditions, and did you know that Mr. Stark has the stuff in his lab to replicate that experiment? And I texted him about it and he said we can actually try it out today? It’s going to be so awesome, and I hope the reaction is big like the one we got to watch, because that was amazing, and--.”

“Take a breath, kid.” Happy let out a rare chuckle at the boy’s exuberance. “I don’t get paid if I deliver you passed out from lack of oxygen,” he joked. “You’re pretty excited to get to your dad’s lab today, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be so sick.” 

Then suddenly Happy met Peter’s startled gaze in the rearview mirror and he wasn’t sure whose eyes were wider. 

Silence.

Crickets.

Silent crickets.

“Oh my gosh, kid, I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I said that; please just forget you heard it!” 

Peter was quiet, and Happy started worrying. Ugh, apparently they had been teasing Tony too much about acting like Peter’s dad lately, because Happy had started thinking of him that way, and it had just… slipped out! He tried to reach his chin up high enough to get a look at Peter’s expression, but the boy’s head was turned, staring out the window.

Happy was just about to ask him if he was okay, and apologize again, when a quiet voice came from the back seat.

“Happy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not mad. I just… what made you say that?”

“Uh…” Well, at this point, the truth was probably best. “For quite a while now, Rhodey, and Pepper, and a couple other people have teased Tony--just a little bit--about acting like your dad, and I just wasn’t thinking when I talked. Please don’t think it’s weird or anything, or be awkward. It was just a slip of the tongue. An accident.”

“How does he… how does he act when you say that? I mean… do you think he would care if he knew that I kinda think about him that way, too, now?” The last part came out quick and quiet, but Happy still heard.

Oh, wow. “Kid, I think he’d be flattered, honestly. You should hear the way he goes on about you when you’re not there. He’s as proud and protective as any dad I’ve ever known.” And his behavior was totally out of character for Tony. Which is why they’d been giving him a hard time, but they’d also all been impressed at how having Peter around had settled him. Given him a little more purpose and focus.

“Oh,” Peter said thoughtfully. When Happy glanced back, the kid was smiling softly. 

After they pulled into the garage a few minutes later, Happy rode up to the penthouse with the subdued teenager, wondering a little bit if he was going to bring up how Happy had slipped up to Tony. Of course that was totally up to Peter, but Happy kind of wanted to be around to do damage control if needed. With Tony or with Peter--whichever one needed it.

As they walked in, Happy heard Tony from the kitchen. “In here, kid!”

He followed at a safe distance, but saw as Peter dropped his backpack and headed straight for the older man. 

“Hey, Pete, I got all that stuff out down in the lab that you wanted for--oof.”

Tony had stopped talking because he’d been knocked back a few inches when the teenager tucked himself up against Tony’ chest, arms wrapping around his mentor’s back. Tony froze for a moment, but quickly reciprocated the hug. 

“What’s this all about?” he said, his voice soft as he tipped his head down to rest it on Peter’s. “Something happen at school?”

“Nah, it was a really good day. I’m just happy to see you.” Peter’s voice was muffled, but cheerful.

Tony looked bemused now. “Uh, I’m happy to see you too.” He looked at Happy with a questioning expression. Happy visually deflected, shrugging and half-smiling. Even rolled his eyes a little like, Teenagers? Who knows? Maybe his part in this wouldn’t come up. Hopefully it wouldn’t. 

Peter pulled back, and looked around, eyes lighting on a plate of sandwiches Tony had been preparing. Dad. Such a dad. “These for me?” he asked brightly, reaching for the tray.

“Uh, yeah. Just bring it down, and I’ll start setting up. You can join when you’re done eating.” Tony put a hand on Peter’s shoulder to steer him towards the elevator, and waved vaguely at Happy.

“Uh, see you later, kid?” Happy said, the unspoken question obvious in his voice. 

“Bye, Happy. Thanks for the ride!” Peter said happily. And then the dang kid winked at him. Well, what in the world did that mean? 

Tony and Peter stepped into the elevator and were gone in seconds. Happy shook his head. Was Peter going to tell Tony or not? Now Happy was going to worry about it all afternoon, which may or may not have been Peter’s intention. That dang kid. 

But thinking of how much Tony enjoyed having him around, and how happy the kid had seemed when Happy let Tony’s feelings slip, he couldn’t help but smile. Just a little bit. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

[idk-bruh-20]

<3333 !!!!!!!!

Some fics that I found by accident that seem sorta like fic idea #47!!!

Copycat

by OllieCollie

and

What's in a Name?

by niniblack

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[takingasterix]

Queen Guinevere's guard dog (AKA the Court Sorcerer of Camelot)

quick little thing because i got bored and LOVE this concept

[batty-pham]

Danny working in retail.

Dead end job.

He always ends up at the nightshift.

Everyone thinks the bags under his eyes are because he can't sleep.

He gets told all the time that he "looks like death" and he always just replies "thanks"

He just sorta stands in the dark corner and customers don't notice him, but they sorta inherently know he's there and avoid him, but he moves and they about shit their pants.

[justaz]

merlin told arthur his favorite color was the color of the sky during sunset when it shifted into a deep violet. arthur gets a tunic made in that exact shade. its the best thing merlin owns. arthur was hoping that would mean he’d wear it almost everyday but merlin almost never wears it. the only time he does wear it is when royals come to visit (which isn’t all that often). arthur “subtly” asks about it and merlin is like “it’s the best thing i own. i’m not gonna dirty it mucking out the stables or serving rowdy knights wine while they splatter food on it” and arthur is like “why not wear it when nobles come to visit? look at least a little presentable for them” (cough nice save). merlin doesn’t see the point in it bc nobles don’t care about him at best, view him as less than human at worst.

arthur really just wants to see his boyfriend servant in the tunic he had made for him (bonus points for sending a message that merlin is his. not that merlin seems to notice. man is too much of an idiot). merlin wants to preserve his favorite tunic and gift from his boyfriend king.

[zishu-arts]

why is AVAM community is talking about farmer!victim??

[otaku553]

I have an agenda.

Long hair teenage sabo.

[gbirrd]

6/9 - Jason Todd tarot card designs for Complete Candor by @vexfulfolly as part of the @batfam-big-bang

Read the fic here!

Other cards:

1-Babs 2-Cass 3-Bruce 4-Tim 5-Damian 6-Jason 7-Duke 8-Steph 9-Dick

Image IDs

Image 1:

A design of "The Devil" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "THE DEVIL". A symbol of a gravestone is visible behind the numeral "XV".

A young Jason Todd in his Robin uniform tugs at a thick chain around his neck that comes down from the top of the frame. Matching shackles are around his wrists and he is buried up to his waist in dirt. His head is tilted up towards the chain. There is blood on his hands, arms, chest, and dripping down the right side of his face as well as from his nose.

Image 2:

A design of "The Devil" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "THE DEVIL" upside-down. A symbol of a flame is visible behind the numeral "XV".

Jason Todd faces forward, filling most of the frame. He is in his Red Hood uniform and has narrowed pupil-less white eyes. He is holding the end of a thick chain in his right fist. Flames fill the background and bathe him in an orange light. The entire card is upside-down.

[ctrsara]

Source Materials

Peter shows up for his internship juggling way too much (literally) and stressed out. Tony has some good advice, some good instincts, and a good scare. This one is mostly just fluff, guys. Relationship-building and pseudo father-son-ing all over the place.

This story uses Irondad fic idea #50 from @idk-bruh-20, and Irondad Prompt #158 and #161 from @irondadmadlads ! Whenever I have some serious writer's block, those two are definitely go-to sources to jumpstart my story mode, and I appreciate them!

[idk-bruh-20]

Completed fic (sort of!!)

@deehellcat did a reverse version of fic idea #134!!!

Read it right here !!! ->

Labyrinth

by dixiehellcat

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Dress to Impress Chapter 1: Open Invitations is out right now on AO3!!!

Illustrations for the fic under the [read more], but I do suggest to try and enjoy them in a fic for more fun experience. ;D

Thanks for checking it out. ;3

[s0fter-sin]

retired ghoap going on a renovation competition show

ghost takes over the budget and he's ruthless with it; tracking every paint swatch and piece of lumber down to the last cent, haggling for every purchase and making the most of their coupons. soap's in charge of design; he can visualise floor plans better than anyone, seeing the completed spaces in his mind when they’re little more than a steel shell

they run their site like a military base, treating their builders like rookies; expecting them to follow orders but also waiting for them to inevitably mess up so they can fix it

they're an immediate shock to the judges; they fully expected them to have no idea what they're doing, to have no understanding of style or trends, but they didn't sign up just for shits and giggles

they know how to hit a brief and can do physical labour faster than the actual builders. with soap's discerning eye and ghost's practically, they design gorgeous rooms and become a real threat for the prize money. they handle the stress and sleepless nights like it's second nature bc really, it is; a few all nighters painting are nothing compared to being shot at

they also take great joy in messing with the other couples

it takes a while for them to figure out they're even married; they argue like it's going out of fashion, never holding their opinions or frustrations back but it's their love language as much as their banter. you can hear them barking at each other from across the site; callsigns and ��It” and “sergeant” thrown around just like in the field

the challenges are where they have the most fun

the day to day? that's work; they're strict, both with themselves and the schedule, never letting anything fall behind or go incompleted. but the challenges? that's play time. they love pushing the brief, toeing the line of the rules purely bc they can

they get to a two part art challenge and ghost's scheming before before the host even opens their mouth. part one? one half of the couple has to design some kind of art piece that will feature in their house. part two? the other person has to gather supplies and tools and make the art

there's a time limit for how long they can take to gather the supplies; once it's up, they can't go back for more and they can only use what they can carry themselves to their station. they're in a warehouse filled with scrap and paint and tools, the choices almost overwhelming

ghost politely interrupts the host to ask for a clarification; absolutely anything in the warehouse can be used so long as they can carry it?

the host confirms; anything under the roof is their's to use

ghost thanks them and steps back in line, standing at attention and waiting for round one to start

ghost volunteers to be the one to do the art, shocking everyone since soap is well known as the artist of the two of them. but soap sees the mischief in his eyes; he knows he's up to something and can't wait to see where it goes

the timer starts and ghost immediately shucks his hoodie and gets to grabbing; stuffing the impromptu bag with everything he recognises from soap's own supplies. there's seconds to go when he bolts for soap, throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry

the other couples are pissed and call it cheating, trying to get them disqualified

ghost just shrugs, soap still over his shoulder, "they said we can use anything we can carry. i followed the brief"

soap just laughs like a mad man

they win the challenge by a landslide

everything's going smoothly, they've won enough room reveals that they’re in a good financial position, they’re ahead in their current room and in a great headspace

then soap gets injured

it's an honest mistake, a part of the roof they thought was stable collapsing and hitting soap

and ghost, always calm and in control, panics

he's on the other side of the site when he hears soap cry out and goes running; shoving past cameramen and builders, screaming to know what happened before he even sees him. he finds soap on the ground, blood dripping from his temple and it's too familiar; a thing he sees in his nightmares

he doesn't know what to do with all his fear so instead, he channels it into anger

he goes off on all his builders, demanding to know how they could be so useless and careless as to miss the unstable roof; screaming at them in a way he hasn't done since he was on active duty, tearing down a rookie for poor trigger management

all the while, his gentle hands tend to soap; checking the wound, if he's concussed, soothing him before he can slip into a flashback of his own. he growls at the cameras, doesn't let the onsite medics anywhere near him; he doesn't know them, doesn't trust them with his johnny. it's only soap's gentle convincing that makes him step back, that forces him to stop and breathe; glaring the medics down from soap's side as they check him and come to the same conclusion soap already reached

he'll be iust fine; a few stitches and he'll be right back in it

ghost goes with him to the hospital to get the stitches laid, abandoning the site to their terrified builders to look after. it takes a few days before he can handle them being separated again, can't even handle one of them going shopping while the other site manages

but soap doesn't begrudge him for his clinginess, not when he knows it's rooted in the fear of losing him. he just keeps him close and calls him his good luck charm when they win the room reveal that week

[keitorinrose]

I have spent weeks on this drawing but sadly can't find the motivation anymore 😭

So for now it will be an unfinished wip

This was supposed to be fanart for the fanfic "the long road to true happiness" by @weirdrandomtina on ao3

[justaz]

this got longer than i meant it to so im putting it under the cut

merlin and morgana watching arthur and gwen be The Couple in camelot. they are heartbroken, jealous, and tired- no, exhausted. they've arthur and gwen for years and fell madly and hopelessly in love with them (respectively). however, they care for the both of them and if they’re happy together then merlin and morgana will simply bite their tongue. besides, its not like their feelings are reciprocated so there’s no use in stirring up trouble.

but the pain eats away at them until they are shadows of their previous selves. merlin is quiet and demure while morgana’s lighthearted snark is growing harsher and harsher. it comes to a head when morgana makes a scathing remark to merlin about his feelings. before, her comments had been directed at others, arthur more often than not, but never toward merlin. they were in the same boat so why would morgana target him?

but she did and things get a little tense. then merlin finds a spell and shows morgana and the two of them, utterly exhausted and desperate for an end to their agony, agree to take part in the spell together. merlin concocts the potion and they both down it. the next day, merlin and morgana are as happy as can be. it was a startling 180° from the morose and downtrodden duo they had been not even twelve hours before to the happy, on cloud nine, nothing is wrong with the world people that hummed as they danced around the castle

merlin and morgana exclaim to one another how freeing it is to not feel such a heavy burden of unrequited love. they mention how easy it is to breath. how they haven’t been this happy and carefree in years. of course, like everything else, there comes a price

to be rid of feelings like love, the opposite feeling would take it’s place. a lot of people believe the opposite of love to be hate, but it is in fact indifference. it starts off slow where gwen makes inside jokes that morgana cant remember. then it moves to them having trouble remembering arthur and gwen’s names. then their memories begin to rewrite themselves to remove arthur and gwen from their minds. eventually, they roam the halls, arm in arm, without even a glance at either arthur or gwen bc they cant find it in themselves to care about these two random strangers. who would?

arthur and gwen go to gaius who has already noted their odd behaviors and has been looking into it. the rest of the knights join them in gaius’s chambers bc they had also noticed how weird they were acting. lancelot is quiet and brooding until arthur pushes him to confess what he knows.

lancelot tells them how he fell for gwen the first time he had come to camelot. she flushes and arthur seems upset but lancelot continues. he tells them all how despite, or maybe because of, his love for gwen, he let her go to be with arthur bc she was happy with him. he hesitates and gwen encourages him. lancelot mentally apologizes to his two magical friends and spills the beans. he explains how morgana has loved gwen for years and how merlin has loved arthur for years. the three of them had bonded after arthur and gwen were engaged about how much it hurt watching the person you love be happy with someone else.

slowly, he pulls out a vial filled with glittering, dark red liquid - dark like blood. he hands it to gaius and explains how they had come to him a few days ago with that and said how it would cure his pain. it would wash away his love for gwen so he wasn’t crushed under the weight of it. he says he never took it bc he didn’t think it was right but merlin and morgana had already taken it. he wasn’t sure what the side effects were going to be until he saw them that afternoon.

gaius finds what the potion is and explains how it did in fact wash away their feelings of love for arthur and gwen and with the absence of love, indifference took hold. he wasn’t sure if their missing memories could be attributed to the indifference or if the spell took to wiping the memories to prevent the love from regrowing.

arthur and gwen are quiet, guilty and upset that their closest friends were going thru such turmoil and they weren’t aware at all. leon clears his throat and asks how to cure them. gaius grimaces and read the book a bit more before responding that a counter potion would do the trick, it would neutralize the previous potion by bringing back their memories and feelings. arthur is quick to agree but gaius interrupts that once the counter potion has been administered, everything will come back at once. everything.

they question him and he explains that every memory, every word spoken, every touch, and every feeling from the past 7+ years will run through them at the same time. considering they’ve been dealing with unreciprocated love and watching the one they love be with someone else for the past couple of years, it wouldn’t be that farfetched to assume that they would look and sound like dying animals. suffice to say, it wouldn’t be pretty.

in spite of the guilt and fear in arthur, he insists that they have to bring merlin and morgana back. he doesn’t want to put them in pain but he cant just let them wipe themselves away and continue on with his life as if he didn’t just lose his best friend and sister. they spike merlin and morgana’s wine with the potion and, as gaius predicted, merlin and morgana both drop to the floor, screaming and crying in pain, pleading with anyone to make it stop and take the pain away.

gwen hides her tears in elyan’s shoulder, arthur uses his long taught skill of being an Emotionless Prick of a Prince his father taught him to not cry. the tears stay in his eyes and do not fall. a few minutes later, merlin and morgana are both catatonic on the ground, limp and staring at nothing. their breathing is slow, so slow they almost appeared dead.

lancelot and gwaine help merlin up and take him to his chambers while leon and percival do the same for morgana. no one mentions what happened and merlin and morgana stay locked in their rooms for two days before being able to get up out of bed. they aren’t back to their shadow selves from two weeks prior, nor are they the happy go lucky duo from the past few days. instead, they are slow and quiet and barely even there. they’re barely even people anymore. simply going through the motions.