#i am NOT having another merlin au over here

[rosaacicularis]

scar or grian’s pov…. that’s the question

[jayybugg]

dreams come true

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Mattheo can't resist each other and have some fun in a tattoo shop.

Warning: Tattoo Artist AU!Mattheo, Dirty talk, Takes place AFTER Hogwarts, Smut (18+), No use of Y/N.

Note: I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to write this but personal Tumblr friends know this was a long time coming. Based on feral thoughts from @finalgirllx tattoo Mattheo edits (Please go check them out if you haven't). @cafekitsune for the banners as always! Hope you enjoy!

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his drawing station when the bell of the shop’s door rang. It didn’t take long for him to recognize you. A grin spread across his face.

“Back already, Love?” Mattheo’s sultry voice asked, pulling your attention to him. You tilted your head, a smile curving into your lips. “Missed me, Riddle?” You leaned over his drawing station, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on your face. He knew if his eyes wondered, they would go straight to your chest. As much as he loved to flirt with you and found you insanely gorgeous, you were still a client and he needed to be professional.

“More than you know, Princess.” Mattheo stood up, walking around the table to tower over you. “What are you here for now?”

Mattheo had tattooed you last month, so he was shocked that you were already back for another one. You looked up at Mattheo through your lashes, “I have a new tattoo idea.”

“Well, spill the beans.” He leaned against the table, focusing on you. He crossed his arms across his chest, unintentionally flexing his muscles while showing off his ink-covered arms. You wet your lips, dragging your eyes from his arms to his eyes. “A dragon.” You said.

“A dragon?” Mattheo asked, looking at you curiously. You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Specifically, a Hebridean Black dragon, but more colorful.”

Mattheo smirked, walking back around the table, retaking his seat. He picked up his pencil to start a sketch. “I’m assuming you’re picking the Hebridean for its enormous size. This will be a large tattoo, huh?” He asked, eyes focused on the paper in front of him.

“You know me so well, Riddle.” You laughed, “Yes, this will be a large tattoo. I want it to wrap around my whole thigh, the head starting on my hip and the tail ending around the knee area.”

Mattheo nodded slowly, looking at you. “Those are sensitive areas, Princess. Are you sure?”

He knew you would be fine with the areas. He had already tatted your spine, leg, ankle, sternum, and side boob. He was the one who wouldn’t be okay. Mattheo was using every ounce of restraint to stop himself from simply bending you over one of these tables and taking you there.

“Of course, I’ll be okay.” You raised your eyebrow. “Who do you think I am? Some rookie?”

Mattheo chuckled at the question. “Fine. You got it, Princess. You can hang out in my station while I get it drawn up and printed.”

You smiled at him, walking into the familiar room. All the ink and equipment were neatly placed and clean. You sat on the tattoo bench, leaning back as you waited for Mattheo to join you in the room. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. Mattheo entered the room with the printed-out stencil and a pair of smooth, black rubber gloves.

“I forgot to bring a change of pants.” You said, slightly embarrassed, “This was a kind of impulsive decision.”

Mattheo stared at you before shrugging. “I’m comfortable if you just want to do it in your underwear, Princess.”

You smiled, standing up and peeling your jeans off. Mattheo turned on his heels fast to face the wall. His eyes trained on the ceiling as he took a deep breath. You laid back on the table, looking over at him. “I’m ready, Matty.”

Mattheo nodded, clearing his throat. He slid his gloves on as he watched you shift around on the bench in just your underwear and top. He held back his groan and pulled up his chair. He prayed to Merlin that he would make it out of this session with a piece of his dignity.

The beginning of the session was easy. Mattheo focused on the designs while he listened to you rant about how hard school was. It wasn’t until he got to the inner part of your thigh that it got difficult.

To have precise lines on your tattoo, you had to spread your legs with Mattheo nestled in the middle of them. He gripped your thigh, keeping the skin stretched as he worked. He couldn’t focus on what you were talking about or what he was even tattooing. He thanked Merlin for his motor skills because if he was still a rookie, this would end with a lawsuit.

You couldn’t help but notice Mattheo’s heavy breathing so close to your core. It was making you wetter than you ever expected it to. Of course, you were attracted to Mattheo, and with him so close but so far away from fulfilling your fantasies, it was killing you.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as you couldn’t keep your voice leveled anymore and Mattheo kept his mouth closed and his eyes focused on the tattoo. After a few more hours, Mattheo finally finished your tattoo and looked at you proudly.

“It looks good, Princess. I would have never thought to do this if you hadn’t asked.” Mattheo observed it, “I ran out of wrap, so I need to run over to the store to get some. Just give me like 10 minutes, okay?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course, I’ll be here.”

Mattheo winked at you before leaving the shop, locking the door behind him so no one just walked in and scared you. You let out a breath of relief, your hand traveling to your underwear. You hooked your finger around the cloth, pulling it to the side and letting another finger tease your folds. You were soaked.

“How the fuck am I this wet? He didn’t even do anything.” You mutter to yourself. You glanced around the room, sighing softly before dipping two fingers into yourself.

It was probably a terrible idea to finger yourself in Mattheo’s shop and on his tattoo bench, but your desire was stronger than your common sense at that moment.

“F-fuck…” You moaned, keeping up the pace, “Shit, Mattheo.”

You kept going, wanting to reach your climax before Mattheo got back. You picked up the pace of your fingers, now slamming them into yourself. Your moans were loud, and your thoughts were so clouded that all your awareness was thrown out the window.

With your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, and fingers still buried deep in your pussy, you reached your orgasm. You let out a deep breath of relief as you finished.

“That was a nice show to come back to, Princess.”

You jumped to cover yourself, and widened your eyes, looking at the door where Mattheo leaned against the frame. He had his arms crossed, his muscles flexing and his tattoos moving. Your jaw slacked open as you tried to find any excuse for what he had seen.

“I…. Mattheo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I wasn’t….”

Mattheo sat the wrap down on the table, walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. He placed a hand on your leg, moving them apart slowly. You looked between him and his hand, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He bent down to lie between your fully spread legs, groaning at the wetness that he was met with. “Fuck, you wanted me this bad, Princess?”

He took a finger, rubbing it over your clit, adding a small amount of pressure. You let out a whimper, gripping the sides of the bench. “Mattheo….”

“I’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy for so long. Wanting to hear you moan my name since I’ve heard that beautiful voice of yours.” He looked up at you. “And now you’ve soaked my bench just thinking about me?”

“I didn’t mean to……I just…You were so close that I got turned on.” You whispered, letting out a moan as he dipped his finger into you, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

“I’m not mad, Princess.” He kissed your thigh. “I want to hear it again.”

Mattheo dipped his head down, sucking your clit into his mouth as he added another finger inside of you, picking up the pace. Your hands flew to his curls, tangling your hands into them, tugging slightly. Mattheo groaned softly at that, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Matty, Oh my Gods.” You whimpered out. He slid his fingers out and hooked his hand around your thighs, being careful of your tattoo. Pulling you close, he flicked his tongue up and down your clit, letting it occasionally slip into you. You bucked your hips as you felt another orgasm coming. “Matty, I’m about to, fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Good. Be a good girl for me and cum all over my tongue, Princess.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up to grind out your climax on Mattheo’s face. Mattheo chuckled. Standing up, he sunk his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off his finger.

“Sweet.” Mattheo smirked at you, “Now c’mere.”

He grabbed the wrap off the table, effectively wrapping your tattoo before pulling you off the bench and to the floor so you were on your knees in front of him. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your hands trailed up his legs and over the growing bulge in his pants. “Go ahead, pretty girl.” Mattheo’s voice came out soft and demanding. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, eventually popping open to allow you to tug them down.

Mattheo smirk, moving your hands gently and tugging his boxers and pants down quicker, stepping out of them. He let out a small grunt as he pumped himself slowly, precum already dripping from his tip. He reached his hand out, weaving it into your hair and gripping it from the roots as he pulled your head back. Your mouth fell open, in shock and want, causing Mattheo to smirk down at you. “Look at you, such a needy slut. You want my cock that bad?”

“Yes,” You whined softly, squeezing your legs together, “Please, I want it.”

Mattheo stepped closer to you, causing you to widen your legs a bit. “Don’t go trying to pleasure yourself, Princess. Wait for your turn. Now, open your mouth.” You followed his directions quickly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

Mattheo groaned at the sight of you being so obedient to him. He slapped his cock against your tongue before pushing his hips forward and jutting his cock into the warmth of your mouth. His body shivered at the moan you released from just having him in your mouth. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to face fuck you in my shop? Am I making all those dirty little fantasies come true?”

Mattheo moved his hips at a faster pace, slamming in and out of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as saliva trailed down your chin and chest. Your mind was dazed as your core got hotter and hotter from the rough actions. Mattheo’s moans were enough to keep you riled up. “You look so fucking pretty, Princess. Choking on my dick, eyes filled with tears from pleasuring me. Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your heart leaped at the praises. To make Mattheo feel good and use you in whichever way he wanted is what you desired this entire time. Your endless wet dreams and daydream fantasies were a reality. You felt Mattheo’s thrusts get sloppier and more reckless as he let out a string of curses. “I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum in this slutty fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulled your head closer to him as he released deep down your throat, ensuring that you didn’t waste a drop. He groaned softly, pulling out of your mouth to let you relax. He leaned over, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He gently wiped your tears and pulled you in to meet his lips. The kiss was passionate and feverish as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You moaned into it as you stood up, not breaking the kiss.

Mattheo kept one hand on your jaw as he wrapped his arm around your body to roughly palm your ass. He walked you backwards to the tattoo bench, causing you to instinctively jump up on it. Mattheo pulled only an inch away from your lips, mumbling softly to you, “You better stop me now, Princess. If this is something you don’t want….”

“I want it. I want it so bad, Matty. It’s all I’ve thought about since I’ve met you.” You reassure him, your hand reaching down to jerk him off slowly. “I want you. I need you, Mattheo.”

“Fuck, Princess.” Mattheo groaned, kissing you deeply before pushing you on your back and positioning you on the edge of the bench. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist. Grabbing the shaft of his dick, he teased your folds before pushing his tip into you.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as Mattheo teased you with just his tip. “Matty…. please….”

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg for me.” Mattheo said, sinking into you. He groaned at the warmth and tightness. “So, fucking warm, Princess. Tell me when to go, baby.”

“G-go…. You can go.” You moaned, gripping the side of the bench. Mattheo didn’t waste time to thrust. His slow thrusts didn’t last long because, within seconds, he was pounding into you. Your moans drowned the creaks of the tattoo bench out. “Fuck, Mattheo, feels s’good.” You babbled; your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, Princess. Such a good fucking slut, letting me rail you on my tattoo bench.” Mattheo groaned, his hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boobs. “My pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

The touching, the thrusting, and the dirty talk were making your mind fuzzy. Pleasure taking over your body was making it impossible for your mind to string together any type of words. “I asked you a question, Princess, answer me,” Mattheo grunted, taking his hand from under your shirt and moving it to wrap around your throat while leaning forward to plunge deeper into you. You mewled at the feeling, your hand gripping his sides and clawing up his back.

“Y-yes! I’m…. I’m your p-pretty little slut.” You finally pushed out, “Fuck, Mattheo.”

Mattheo left wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. To hear your pretty voice moan my name, to hear you beg for me to fuck you. You’re a fucking dream come true.”

Mattheo moved his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to fuck you. You whimpered at the overstimulation. “I want you to cum all over my dick, Princess. Make a mess all over me and my tattoo bench.”

You moaned, feeling the growing knot in your stomach as you got closer to your climax. One more thrust from Mattheo had you whining and your legs shaking. Tears pricked your eyes once more as Mattheo kept thrusting and rubbing your clit. “I can’t- I can’t take no more, Matty.” You whined, looking up at him.

“Yes, you can. You can take more until I cum, baby girl. I’m almost there, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Mattheo said, “Gonna let me breed you, Princess? Fill you up with my seed?”

“Yes, please, cum in me. I want it, I want it so bad.” You babbled.

“Good fucking girl,” Mattheo mumbled, groaning as his thrusts became more erratic. He slammed into you once more, burying himself deep into you as he came in you. He pulled out slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you up into his chest. “That was amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you.” You felt a blush rush to your face. “Guess I should go pay now, huh?”

Mattheo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think you’re paying after all that?”

“It’s only right that I pay you for your work.” You said, your eyes meeting his.

“Trust me, Princess, you’ve paid me with something way more valuable than money.” Mattheo smirked. “And now that’s all I want. I’ll tattoo anything on you for it.”

You blushed, laughing at him. Your heart raced at all the future possibilities with Mattheo.

Today was truly a dream come true.

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 14

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

at last (i see the light) by @theroyalsavage

Of a tower, a missing prince with the sun in his hair and the ability to heal with a touch, and a terrible-dangerous-very-bad bandit who’s never been all that good at being very bad, dangerous, or terrible. An AU based off of Disney’s Tangled.

IVE BEEN W A I T I N G FOR A SOLANGELO TANGLED AU OMG. and this ATE. was so fucking good. obviously bc its theroyalsavage but still omg. sorry for harrassing u btw. but i LOVE this. nico as flynn pov and just fucking reluctantly smitten from the beginning.....oh i know that's right

2. a letter to the moon (it is not brighter than you) by @theroyalsavage

When his kingdom is plagued by a series of unsolvable murders, Prince Will Solace must confront several things: tragedy, helplessness, and the dizzy-sweet inevitability of falling in love.

is this, like the author's note indicates, reminiscent of bbc merlin? yes. and so i LOVE. rivals to friends to lovers my BELOVED. royalty aus my BELOVED. and honestly yall should be supporting my royalsavage agenda purely by her titles like LOOK at these. my heart hurts like

3. In the darkest grays by @izlaria

[The sun bursts, clouds break.] Nico di Angelo loves in color. This is something that Will Solace has always known.

hi. i am obsessed w this fic. a nico character atudy that is disguised as will character study that IS a will character study........something something they are braided strings of fate something something....also! sally jackson my love!! she is everything to me and of COURSE she would show up here!! i am also obsessed w longtime pining will like is it even a solangelo fic if will has not been in the trenches since he was ten years old

4. eudaimonia by @forochel

Nico watched Percy wave his arms excitedly at Annabeth and breathed through the habitual twisting of his stomach. For a moment, he thought of walking over to them - ever the masochist, he thought wryly to himself - but then Annabeth threw her head back in a laugh, and Nico dismissed the thought. There would be another time and another place. ** Diverges SLIGHTLY from canon in that Nico does not confess to Percy right off the bat - he gets the chance to heal, find himself and a place to stand in camp, and form friendships. Also, attempts to fix the whole Solangelo shoehorning thing.

AUTHOR IF YOU ARE STILL ACTIVE. FOROCHEL IF YOU SEE THIS. I AM BEGGING. KNEES ON THE GROUND HANDS CLASPED ROSARY CHOKING LIKE A NOOSE. PLEASE. PLEASE UPDATE THIS SERIES IM BEGGING. I KNOW IT IS UNGRATEFUL BUT 20K IS NOT ENOUGH. THIS IS N I C O S VOICE. LIKE ACTUALLY. dude it KILLS me this is HIM 😭😭😭 i cannot get over how wonderful this is and how FRESH....like this came out right after boo! it was fresh in ur mind!! and you went CRAZY like this is SO SO GOOD!! this fic is CONSTANTLY rotating in my mind and i am constantly thinking about the path it carved.....hve never gotten over it ever

5. Baby Satyrs and Charming Boyfriends by @biancadiangeno / @fiestiest

Nico di Angelo had absolutely no idea how babysitting works, and Will Solace was having way too much fun teasing him to actually help out.

this fic is so silly and fun. i love it!! and the ending made me giggle will needed that humbling

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 19: A Helping Hand [OS]

Pairing: Snape x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Snape Lives AU, set 19th of December 1999 roughly a month after Snape’s return home from the hospital and you have been in love with him for years, sending letters and gifts in secret.

A/N: I feel like we need one more Snape fic this year, don’t you? 🥰 Well, you better bloody well enjoy it ‘cus I damn near keeled over writing this long thing in one sitting - remind me why I keep doing this to myself? I’m short on time, tomorrow the Christmas celebrations start and go all the way until the 25th over here and I’ve been running myself ragged between my two jobs, sorting the house, writing for Rickmas and generally being a wife, a mom, and a human - with all the work that entails in and of itself 😂

Also, don’t be fooled by how sweetly this fic starts 👀

Tags/TW’s: Secret Pining, Teenage Crush Turned Love In Adulthood, Fear, Shortly Mentions [horrible nightmares / fear for another’s safety / violence / blood / slight gore / painful past / terrible history / the war / the dark lord / wanting to die / hospital stay / scars], Shame, Guilt, Going Into Hiding, Embarrassment, Sadness, Mind Reading (Legilimens), Confessions

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - your Last Name

Word Count: 4.2k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A Helping Hand

This is fantastic, what the bloody hell was I thinking?! The black door with chipped paint loomed before you. It was an ordinary door, of regular height and width, yet it was so large and utterly imposing. I shouldn’t be here, why am I here? It’s not like he’s going to open the door and go ‘oh a Christmas star, how wonderful, come in, come in’, like, no… You adjusted your hold of the red flower in a too-small pot with a green satin ribbon tied at the top of it.

You shivered in the cold wind and your boots had turned slightly soggy with melted snow. They weren’t the best shoes for walking in snow but they were the finest pairs you had and matched perfectly with your dress and cloak of deep green with silver details.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, just knock, you idiot!” you hissed at yourself before drawing a steadying breath, reaching your hand up, and knocking far too lightly. It was more of a tapping than a knocking, really. But your hand was already clamped around the pot once more as your heart raced and pixies seemed to have a party in your stomach.

You sighed. This is stupid, he’s not going to open… It wasn’t your first attempt at contacting your previous professor. It had been a few years since you graduated, he might not even remember you despite the letters and gifts you had sent him through the years. The last two years you hadn’t dared to do so though. The world had gone too dark and the rumours of the man’s place as Voldemort’s number one follower hadn’t gone unnoticed.

One more time, you told yourself before reaching up to knock again. This time, a little harder even if it still sounded timid. You held onto the pot in a cramp-like manner as you waited with your heart in your throat and the growing party of pixies in your stomach turning into a rave.

The lock clicked. Then a chain rattled. Your eyes widened as you watched the handle turn and air seemed to evade you as the door slowly creaked open. There he was. Black hair, pale skin, frock and all — just how you remembered him. Almost.

He arched a brow, opening the door further as he found you standing one step down. His eyes went up and down, from your shoes to the Christmas Star flower and then to your face. “Miss Y/l/n?” he drawled, his voice more hoarse than you could remember. “P-professor,” you stammered, suddenly having no idea what to do now that he actually opened the door. “Not anymore,” he said harshly, but his tone wasn’t quite angry or the like. “What can I do for you, Miss Y/l/n?” he continued, his voice clipped and low.

You blinked. “Um, here—” you held out the flower, nearly shoving it into his arms “—it’s a Christmas Star, erh, flower for you,” you continued, feeling mortified as heat crept under your skin. “I can see what it is,” he drawled, looking from the flower to you with eyes betraying none of what he was thinking or feeling. “Why am I receiving it?” he continued. “I— Well, I thought I’d— You see, I— Um, well, yes, that’s a good question,” you rambled, turning warmer in your heavy cloak by the second. “Um, Merry Christmas,” you finally managed to force out while wishing the stone steps below would swallow you whole.

You hadn’t thought it would go like this, you hadn’t thought you’d lose any semblance of speech and thought by just seeing the man again. But, as usual, your teenage habit around the intimidatingly gorgeous man had you tongue-tied and unable to coherently say or think anything.

He was still gorgeous. More ravaged by harsh times, more distant than ever, and less fearsome yet more intimidating with the lack of feelings coming from him. Get yourself together! “Another gift,” he drawled, looking at the flower while he held the bottom of the pot in just one hand. “You have sent me quite a few.” You spluttered, dying of embarrassment it felt like. “I— Well, yes, I did… I’m sorry. Sorry, Professor, I shouldn’t have— and I shouldn’t have come now, you never opened before so I didn’t think you’d— No matter, I’ll leave. Um, Merry Christmas,” you rambled. “Yes, you said that already, miss.” “Oh, right, yes, right, I did. Sorry,” you whispered while burning up from the rushing of your pulse and the searing heat of embarrassment.

You turned to leave, rushing down the stairs without another word. “It’s slippery at the— Careful!” he shouted in a hoarse manner that could barely be classified as more than a murmur in the lone tone. But, it was too late. You flung your arms out, your feet sliding out from under you as you fell helplessly backwards. A crash resonated through the air and with barely a millisecond to spare you levitated in mid-air with your hair gracing the snow below.

You panted and heaved, completely still in the charm he had cast over you with no time to spare. The stone beneath could have cracked your skull, so adrenaline kept rushing through your body even though the danger was over. “T-Thank you,” you said in a stuttering exhale as he straightened you up. As soon as your feet hit the ground and his charm released you you shivered and drew in a deep breath to calm yourself.

“As accident-prone as I remember,” he murmured behind you. “Do you never learn, Y/n?” You turned, only to find him standing in the fully open doorway with the shattered pot and snapped flower at his feet. “Your gift,” you whispered, feeling your lips turn down in a saddened frown. “It took ages to grow that thing and make the pot,” you sighed to yourself. “You grew it?” he asked, making you look up from the mess. “Well, yes, I can’t give you store-bought flowers.” “Why?” he asked, making you scrunch your brows. “Why would anyone do such a thing?” “What do you mean? You saved the world, you must have gotten all kinds of flowers and gifts. I wanted mine to… be something else,” you admitted while looking at the snapped stem and scattered red petals. Your heart ached at the sight, all those months of work and magic you’d poured into it — gone.

Snape aimed his wand at the mess, not a word uttered but his brows scrunched. You sighed. “It can’t be mended…” He looked at you. “Magic?” You shook your head. “No, it can’t be fixed with magic… I grew it in… It doesn’t matter,” you whispered, brushing down your cloak to have something to do with your errant hands that wished to scoop up the broken pieces of your love at his feet. No amount of wand waving would be able to mend either flower or pot — they were impervious to any and all magic.

Snape looked at you, tilting his head ever so slightly before he waved his wand and the broken pieces flitted up into a levitating ball. “Come in,” he said and you damn near lost the capability to breathe. “W-What? Come-, come in? Into your home?” you asked, your voice nearly rude. He looked at you while standing half-turned in the doorway. “Or do not,” he simply stated before you lurched into action. “Slippery,” he reminded harshly and you slowed your climb up the stairs. Your heart and mind had no intention of slowing down though.

The door closed behind you and the gloom of a narrow hallway took over. The scent of him was overwhelming. Your mouth popped open at his back as he moved away from you, towards a door at the end leading to what appeared to be a shabby kitchen in a dull green with chequered flooring.

You scrambled out of your coat, in the gloom your dress glittered like a star-strewn sky and the silvery buckle of your waist-belt shimmered. I can do this, I can absolutely do this, this is what I wanted. Yet your hands shook and your entire body felt strung tightly as you used magic to dry your boots and the hem of your dress. You weren’t about to drag in slush and gravel into the man’s house.

With careful steps, you moved toward the open door where Snape stood by a small table only large enough to seat two people. The kitchen was gloomy as well, and it hadn’t escaped your notice that there were no decorations or hints of Christmas in the house. The man himself stood leant over the remnants of your shattered gift as you stepped up.

“Just throw it out,” you said quietly, despite how it hurt. “It’s rubbish—” “Don’t,” he snarled in that hoarse voice while throwing a harsh glare at you. “It is not rubbish.” You blinked. “Professor, it’s broken. Can’t be mended.” “It’s not Professor anymore,” he muttered. “Then, what do I call you?” He glanced at you, something swept over his features before his shoulders stiffened. “Severus, if you wish. Mr Snape if that is more to your liking.” “Your— I can call you… Severus?” you asked, stunned and floored and bewildered and, well, everything at the same time.

He didn’t reply. You both looked at the broken pot and flower in silence. All the months of work you’d put into it, gone. The endless hours you’d spent teaching yourself to do pottery by hand and the countless failed attempts — it had all been a waste. But, I knew it would be… Even if it hadn’t shattered it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. This was just selfish of me, my own need to tell him I... You couldn’t finish the thought, too many horrid memories crept up just thinking about it. All the tears, the ache in your heart and fear in your gut as times had grown dark years ago.

Severus straightened. “You stopped sending letters,” he said but kept his eyes on the mess atop the table. You looked up at his profile. “Well, yes… I…” You drew a steadying breath, readying yourself to be honest. “I got scared… I knew of your place beside Voldemort, and I suspected your place beside Dumbledore… I couldn’t imagine you ever truly being on the wrong side… But, they took family members, friends, people who—” People who mattered to others… And even if I know I don’t matter to you, they wouldn’t have known that given the letters and gifts…

“So, you read them..?” You almost didn’t want to hear the answer — either way, it would feel weird. He nodded, his hair falling forward. “Many times. You did not sign a single one until the very last, why?” You released a deep breath. “I… I never have and never will think I’m worthy of someone like you.” His eyes widened and he was about to speak but you rushed on. “Don’t worry, I’m not hurt by it. I understand,” you said with a dejected chuckle. “I’m just me, and I was your student, you know I’m nothing special, just average.” “That was many years ago, I only taught your last two years,” he said. The depth of his voice and its new raggedness had a shiver crawl down your spine.

You looked up at him, your arms crossed over your chest in a self-hug and your lips in a small smile both sad and soft in its nature. “Yes, quite, and from that time to now you’ve saved the world, protected children and adults, offered all of yourself with only loss of years to show for it I guess.” “Your point?” he drawled, a deeper darkness to his tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up, it must be painful for you.” This is going bloody well, absolutely fantastic, can I be more of a damn idiot?

He crossed his arms over his chest, too. Yet, in a harsher manner. “Your point,” he demanded and you instantly felt as if you were being scolded by your professor, a fantasy you were far too shy to ever admit to having had several times during your more lonely nights. “I have nothing, sir,” you whispered. “I’m nothing compared to you. I went into hiding, I didn’t even fight like so many did…” “You wrote of your fear,” he drawled and your shoulders drew upwards, toward your ears in shame. “You stayed alive. More people did that than those who fought against the Dark Lord in battle.” “I hid, I ran away to the north and… I was of no help,” you admitted with a forced smile to hide the shame within your heart.

He glared at you, but it didn’t feel like a glare out of anger. It still had you tensing even more though. How on earth you’d managed to get into such a deep conversation with the man of your dreams — and nightmares — you weren’t sure but you barely dared to breathe for fear of being kicked out of his home.

“War is a terrible thing,” he said quietly. “Many fought. Many lost their lives and loved ones, but more still fled or hid. Staying alive, there is no shame to it, Y/n. No shame.” His words were harsh, unyielding and said in a manner that had you believe he might be speaking equally for your and his benefit. He was still alive, too. “Yeah, maybe…” “No. You should not be ashamed for staying alive.” “One day, maybe I won’t be,” you admitted while a heaviness seemed to blanket the room.

Severus glanced from you to the broken pot and flower once more. “Perhaps a helping hand is all we need when times are the hardest,” he said in no more than a whisper. “Your letters… they were, important to me.” You gulped down a lump that had formed in your throat. “They were..?” “Yes.” He seemed to soften next to you. “I feared you had died, when it all stopped… Seeing your name in the last letter, I cannot tell you how it affected me when I realised no more would come.”

I affect him? You weren’t sure what to say to that. You hadn’t ever imagined that you meant anything to the brave man, yet here he stood and said the opposite. But perhaps it was more of a comfort thing, a friendship thing. You shivered, your shoulders shaking. It wasn’t any help that the house was quite chilly.

“Come,” he said, turning and leaving the kitchen before you had barely reacted. You stumbled after him with a final glance at the shattered love left on his little kitchen table. He led you into a sitting room while your mind kept spinning with questions of what he thought of you, what he felt, how much he had cared when he thought you had died. Don’t go there. You had imagined far too many times that he had met a slow, painful death. Far too many nightmares had forced you awake with a scream as his death and torture were featured within your own mind.

“Sit,” he said before flicking his wand to light the fireplace. “I shall bring some tea.” A wave of warmth washed over the room and the golden light of the flames had shadows dancing all around. “Tea? Oh, thank you,” you said in a shocked rush as you sat yourself down on the two-seat sofa. He disappeared out the doorway and you were left looking around the room with the growing memories of all the nights and days you had been a complete mess, absolutely in shambles, over the man whose house you were now in.

Your eyes zeroed in on the fire as you squeezed your own biceps. He was different from how you remembered him, both in a good and bad way. Despite the harrowing life he had led, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes upon, and despite the slight hint of a scar that shouldn’t be there at all at the very top of his throat and the hoarse voice, you found him perfect. He was darker, he was harsher and more reserved in his behaviour but he talked with you and there was something about him that hadn’t changed at all.

You squeezed your biceps again, the memories coming unfiltered of all those times you had cried yourself to sleep or woken up screaming in horror. Your head swam with images of a bloody Severus, of broken limbs and a twisted neck. Gurgling breaths and wheezing noises. You barely held onto reality and the roaring fire attempting to warm you. Being in his house, and seeing him again after all these years, kicked everything to the forefront and you couldn’t get a handle on your emotions or mind.

You drew a stuttering breath, closing your eyes to try and banish the horrors of the past as they multiplied — both false nightmares and memories of re-tellings in the news of Severus’s heroic actions that had only led him to experience pain and suffering for Merlin knew how long. Get it together, get it together, you told yourself over and over as you drowned in the raging flood released by the very realisation that it was all over — that he was safe. Out of reach, but safe and alive.

You jolted up from the sofa at the sound of porcelain breaking and scattering. “Severus?” you called out, your voice shrill and your heart in an uproar. “Severus?” you called again before rushing toward the kitchen, in the direction of the noise. But you stopped short in the hallway where he stood with open hands and a mess of broken teacups and steaming water at his feet.

He looked at you with ghastly pale skin and slightly heaving breaths. “Are— Severus, are you okay? What happened?” you asked while walking up toward him, your pain and fears from the past forgotten for a moment at the sight of him. “What… was that?” he asked in a dark whisper. “What was what?” you asked, spinning around to look down the hallway, was there something in the house? No, you couldn’t see anything. “There’s nothing there.”

You turned back toward Severus, his eyes eerily fixated on you. Then you felt it. A prodding sensation and a presence in your mind that wasn’t supposed to be there. “What are you—” Your temples strained and your hand flew up to your forehead. “That,” he snarled as you saw flickers of so many horrid memories revolving around him flash in your head as he scoured through it all. You couldn't push him out, his skill was too great. “S-stop,” you pleaded. “That’s private,” you continued while looking away from him.

Embarrassment, shame, hurt, it all filled your chest as he retreated from your mind and left a palpable void where he had been a second ago. “T-That’s private,” you whispered, holding back tears as your back curved under the weight of your shame. Severus had gone through literal hell for years on end where your imagination had only brushed the surface — yet it was more than you could handle and he had had to live through it all, and possibly far worse things than you could imagine. Your fear and anguish was false, and in the presence of true bravery and strength, you wished to vanish and never come out of hiding ever again.

“You cried, for me?” he asked, so quietly you could barely hear it. “Please, I’m ashamed enough as it is…” you whispered while turning your back on him to wipe away the tears refusing to stop now that they had begun to spill over. “Ashamed,” he said as if tasting the word for the first time. You tensed. “I’m sorry, I— I shouldn’t have come to see you,” you whispered while snivelling as quietly as you could. “I’m sorry,” you forced out before bolting toward the door with a suffocated cry, grabbing your cloak in passing before gripping the door’s handle and tugging.

It didn’t budge. You tugged again, twisting one way and then the other but it wouldn’t open. Let me out, please, please let me out. You couldn’t stand the shame, the fear, the unwanted longing you were filled with for the man behind you. Through all the pain, the fear, through everything, all you had wanted was to hold him tight and make sure he was safe. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, it was unrequited and a lost cause.

You snivelled and spluttered a cry. “Please, let me out,” you whimpered while tugging on the door again. “I can’t do this,” you cried quietly. But two large hands atop your shoulder had you gasping a breath as you were spun around in a rush, your back pushed against the unyielding door with strength you stood no chance against.

“You cried for me,” he whispered. You couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m sorry.” A gusted breath fanned your face as he snarled. “No. You cannot be sorry for that,” he said with finality. “Do not apologise for caring enough to shed tears for an unwanted man.”

You glanced up through the tears, the view of him hazy despite how close his face was to yours. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “I’m so sorry.” “Don’t.” “I was useless,” you cried quietly. All the shame, the guilt, the pain welled up further. “Useless…” You snivelled and gripped your dress so harshly you could feel your nails through the fabric. His hands hardened around your trembling shoulders. “You cried for me,” he repeated — as if he was as stuck in his mind as you were.

You had no time to react before he sank before you, his knees thudding to the floor ominously as his hands slipped down your arms only to hold on to your wrists. “I thought you were dead,” he murmured with his face tilted toward the floor. “The letters, the gifts… I thought I had lost my chance,” he continued while his hands hardened to the point of pain around your wrists. But you felt him tremble, heard his voice waver, felt the coldness of sadness seep from him and into you.

“What chance?” you asked, barely able to breathe when he tilted his head back only to view you with tear-lined eyes. The onyx colour appeared black in the gloom. “To tell you…” “T-Tell me? W-What?” you managed to force out between snivelling breaths and clogging cries. “You matter to me. You… are important, to… me,” he said darkly and forcibly through gritted teeth as his hands clamped around your wrists and a bewildered look filled his eyes while the rest of him remained utterly harsh. “But I can’t be,” you whispered. “I did nothing.” “You saved me,” he snarled.

Your breath hitched as he tugged on your wrists, forcing you down on your knees before him. His hands gripped your shoulders anew, steadying you before you would have fallen face-first into his chest. “Your words saved me, your gestures, you have no idea what you did for me,” he ground out. “Do not think, for a second, you are useless, Y/n. If it weren’t for you… I am the one who should feel shame.” “What? No! You saved the world!” He glared at you. “Only barely.” “That doesn’t matter. You did it.” “Because of you. I could not… I could not fail when I thought you had died because of what the Dark Lord persisted for.” He was so calm in the next second. As if, somehow, he found control again while you spiralled and kept snivelling and whimpering cries.

Your body sagged under the weight of his words. “But, I am nothing to the world—” “You are important to me,” he interrupted. “And until you sent that card to St. Mungos, I had believed you dead — as I had wished to be.” “Severus, no, no,” you cried, instinctively reaching up to grasp at his chest. He allowed the touch, reaching around to pull you closer. “You saved the world, and then you saved me. All you had to do was stay alive, and you did. Nobody has a right to ask for anything more than that, yet, I will…”

You leaned back, a snivelling and trembling mess before him. He reached up and wiped your cheeks with the back of his chilly fingers even if the tears just kept on coming. “Let me know you, Y/n.” You held his gaze. “You know me better than anyone, what I told you in those letters are things I haven’t told anyone…” His eyes widened, his fingers tensed and then he pulled you closer by your waist. “Stay,” he said.

You buried your face in his chest, beyond emotional and out of control. You trembled and shook, your brain misfired and had you scrambling for the connection with your voice to speak the only word you wished. Instead, you cried into his chest and grasped at his clothes with clawing strength. He held you closer, his embrace firm and warm. “Stay. Gift me what I thought I had lost forever…” “A-and, w-what, is that..?” you said between snivels and rushed breaths. “You… A chance to be with the woman who saved the world through me…” It was too much, yet you managed to find your voice. “Never let go,” you whispered. “Never.”

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well, this made me emotional.

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @dontwanttobeanamercanidiot @sunnylikesfrogs @dianilaws @snapesno1thighrider @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @cherihan @poetry-and-tea @evans23 @mamawolfsmith87 @snapesrn @severussimp @slyckman @liv2post @clawsthecactus @goldenglowwoman @morphineisouthoney @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish @romanceandsarcasm @severuslovebot @glowstar826 @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @impulse-anchor @commodoreseverus @writewithmarites @alisongurl13 @yan-senna @writewithmarites @reinekefoxart @nixislight @lokisbjchnl @lght-n-drk @ladykardasi @lyrixsnape @sunset90 @meliasnape @B3lls @canihelpyou201 @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @theheartwants-what-itwants @sanji-simp @snapesrn @thatlittlefangirl @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @daddythanatos

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[frost-queen]

Till it bites you back // part 3 (Male!Reader x Eloise Bridgerton)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia,  @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine,  @evilcr0ne, @czarinera, @god-titan, @thethreeeyed-raven, @svrootles, @milo890, @anonymous-cat-21, @luvinyouwasred123, @cluelessteam

Summary: Deeply invested in finding out who Lady Whistledown is partner Eloise and you up. With each second spend together the emotions of love swell up till it makes both parties hunker for a love undescribable [Series]

Standing at the sideline of the danceroom, you were observing those on the sideline. You gaze resting a few moments on a lady in soft blue. Her expression saddened as she stared at the dancers. The long yearning on her face as a stake to the heart. Reaching in your pocket, you took out a little brown leather notebook held close with a cord. The pencil followed as you started scribbling observations down. Some movement caught your eye whilst writing, making you look briefly up.

In the blink of an eye you saw a lady make her way over to you. Her dazzling dress kept approaching as it distracted you in blinks. Before she could open her mouth and speak she got greeted by Claude. The right hand of the prince. He held his gloved hand gently up to her by his waist with a shake of his head. The lady stared dumbfound back at him seeing you scribble further behind him.

Without looking back at you, spoke Claude. – “Occupied.” – with the warmest most faked polite smile. The lady left with disappointment. Claude returned to his place near you, but not too close. You observed another lady in a soft pink dress, pearls around her neck. After watching for some moments, you wrote some things down again. Shutting the notebook you approached Claude. Claude stepped side-ways aside to maintain his distance from you as formal as it should be.

“I feel as if I am getting close Claude.” – you exclaimed tugging the notebook in your inside pocket once more. – “My observations are becoming more accurate.” – you continued as Claude turned briefly towards you. – “Your royal highness if I may.” – he started with a bow. With a wave of your hand you ordered for him to do so, occupied with looking around. Claude cleared his throat gently. – “I…don’t get me wrong, but should you not focus on finding a fiancé? A wife?” – he changed wording knowing it was your mother’s dearest wish and here you were at the side-line having ordered Claude to keep every woman at bay.

Dismissing them as you are otherwise engaged. You quirked an eyebrow up, turning to him. – “I do not require to dance to find a possible suitor.” – you told him. Claude bowed his head letting you know he stepped down. Apologizing for overstepping his position. – “Au contraire, Claude I am practically engaged.” – you continued making the poor man gulp in surprise. – “Your Royal Highness, when?” – he asked as you went to completely ignore him.

Caught by a beauty in the midst of the crowd. – “Miss Eloise!” – you called out raising your hand up for her to notice you. Eloise, the fresh breath of air caught had noticed you, smiling widely. Claude looked baffled and puzzled at the lady as you made your way through the crowd towards her.

A few curious heads turned seeing the prince hasten himself through the crowd to reach the Bridgerton girl. Eloise met up with you halfway. – “Your Royal Highness.” – she started wanting to bow as you took her by the wrist, pulling her away from the midst of the crowd. Eloise let you drag her away, seeing a puzzled Benedict glance her way before he was out of sight. By the walls behind a line-up of chattering girls came you to a stop with her. – “Your royal Highness.” – Eloise repeated taking her bow before you now.

It made you chuckle out of breath from surpassing every soul in the ballroom. – “Miss Eloise for our quest of the identity of Lady Whistle.” – you told her grabbing for your notebook. You pulled it out as Eloise’s eyes widened. – “I believe I have become close.” – you continued resting your hand on the cover. – “You… you used a notebook?” – Eloise asked both confused and curious. – “Oui.” – you said proudly only upon seeing her puzzled, you weren’t sure if it was a positive matter.

“Should I have not?” – you asked her, embracing the notebook with your hands, pulling it close to your chest. Your sudden saddened reaction startled Eloise. – “No!” – she blurted out making you look even sadder at her. – “No… I meant…no… I didn’t mean it like that.” – she explained in a haste. – “I am lost…” – you said sighing deep. – “English… I will never understand.” – you mumbled to yourself. At this point it felt as if the world was caving in on you. Nothing made sense. Her reaction to you carrying a notebook felt like a foreign language.

Eloise grabbed you by your elbows, smiling sweetly to make you meet up with her gaze. – “I think it is rather sweet.” – she said lifting your spirit a bit up. – “You… you do?” – asking her to be sure. – “Oui.” – Eloise responded with a little bounce of her feet. Her sweet reaction made you almost want to kiss her. Just by the way of her cuteness and her attempt to speak French. Your language by birth. It moved you to see her put some effort in it. To have the patience and explain herself better when you do not follow.

“What are your findings.” – she said with a little flinch feeling herself get flustered from staring in your gaze. Clearing your throat you opened your notebook. – “Well…” – you began as Eloise came standing close to you. – “I have observed a number of ladies standing on the side.” – you continued feeling a presence close to you. You only had to turn your head slightly to the side to see her face peek over your shoulder into your notebook.

Her eyes darted from your notes to you, staring closely up to each other. – “You… you have a beautiful handwriting.” – she whispered catching herself stare slightly down to your lips. – “As are you…” – you whispered back caught in a stare. Aware of what you just said, you quickly changed your words. – “As is yours.” – you corrected with a nervous clearance of your throat.

Eloise set herself down on her heels laughing. – “My handwriting is terrible. Poorly readable if I say so myself.” – she joked as it made you laugh as well. – “I do not believe a single one of it.” – you chuckled out. Hearing your heart thump loud against your chest, you moved the notebook up to hide the flush in your cheeks. – “You see I…” – you began needing to steady your voice. – “I have taken notes off numerous ladies, yet only seven of them I believe might be Whistledown.” – you informed her. – “May I see that list?” – she asked, you nodded and gave it to her.

Eloise started reading the names out loud that you had listed underneath as possible gossip writers. �� “Lady Margaret Price, Miss Agatha Fletcher, Miss Eden Grace. Lady Phryne Fenton, Miss Penelope Featherington.” – Eloise suddenly stopped. – “You… you know her?” – you asked her. – “Yes, she is my dearest friend. How come you think of her?” – she questioned making you pull your shoulders up. – “I never see her dance and she always roams the walls, sliding across the proportions of the room.

I meant no harm with including your friend. I did not know I was merely making a conclusion of finding out the identity.” – you explained with desperation as you hoped it wouldn’t mean losing her. Eloise shook her head. – “It is alright. It is true she rarely dances…” – Eloise said the intensity of her voice wandering off. You plucked your notebook out of her hands. – “I shall exclude her from the list.” – you said out loud already taking out your pencil. – “No!” – Eloise called out putting you to a stop. – “You shouldn’t do that. We must be thorough as partners.”

Her choice of words made you grin foolishly. – “Now we must find a way to be certain.” – she thought as you had a sudden idea. – “Miss Eloise.” – you said tapping her shoulder for attention. – “If you could… we could watch Lady Price. I know for a fact where she will be tomorrow midday. If…if you are not otherwise engaged… I thought perhaps we could…” – saying it out loud it seemed rather foolish now. Eloise’s eyes widened in a cute surprise.

“You want to stalk Lady Price with me?” – she said lowly hoping she had heard you correctly. You could only smile sheepishly at her for the dumbest idea you had yet presented her with. Of course she was going to decline. A midday alone with you, unchaperoned. She was no fool. Perhaps you were. You still needed to get rid of Claude then if this would set foot. It was a foolish idea, thinking you could spend more time with her alone. It was just when you were around her, you couldn’t think rationally.

Certainly when those lovely doe eyes stared right back at you. How her enthusiasm and close manners made your heart beat as ever loudly. – “Why not.” – Eloise spoke making you stare in shock at her. – “What a good idea your Royal Highness.” – she expressed. Smiling proudly you were so glorified by the feeling of her approvement. You leaned a bit closer to her to whisper. – “Meet me tomorrow at noon at the market.”

*

It was almost an agony to get rid of Claude. He insisted upon following your every move. You had tried lying to him that you require solitude in the garden. Solitude he would be happy to give you within reach of his sight. Getting slightly annoyed you almost had to shout at him to be gone. Finally you were able to get rid of him as your mother required a moment with him. You saw the chance, winked at Liana to keep your little escape a secret and left.

Disguised as a regular man, you waited by the market for Miss Eloise. Suddenly smiling you saw her approach. Her hair down in such elegance it made you swallow hard. The blue cloak over her shoulders giving her a graceful disguise. – “Your Ro…” – she started wanting to bow as you quickly grabbed her by the shoulders, pressing her against your chest for a hug. – “It is Y/n here Eloise. Common Y/n.” – you whispered in her ear with a nervous chuckle.

Eloise’s eyes stood wide slightly panicking at the loud thumping of her heart, hoping you wouldn’t hear it. You let go of her, looking nervous around. – “Alright common Y/n.” – she said smiling. If there was any fluster inside of her, she hid it well. – “Where do we find this Lady Price?” – she asked getting on the tips of her toes to overlook the market.

“There.” – you said motioning with your head. Indeed Lady Price stepped out of her carriage. It made Eloise turn around hoping she wouldn’t see her. You took Eloise’s hand laying it over your arm. – “What do you require dear, some fruits? Flowers? Cattle?” – you suggested seeing the slight panic in her eyes. It made you laugh loud. Eloise chuckling sheepishly back. You glanced over your shoulder watching as to where Lady Price would go. She went to pass by some fruit markets. Pulling Eloise with you, you went after her on a distance.

Eloise and you stood by the fruit booth next to hers. You pretended to look for fruit, picking one up to smell for a second. – “I didn’t know Lady Price did this by herself. You would think she has maids buying fruit for her.” – Eloise whispered to you. – “Perhaps she only trusts her own judgement on fruit?” – you responded making Eloise quirk her eyebrow up. Her expression made you laugh loud.

Your laughter caught Lady Price’s attention as Eloise, and you freaked out. Eloise turned her back to the lady, picking up a watermelon to hold up in front of your face. She waited till Lady Price stopped looking and went on. You came peeking from behind the watermelon with a smile. – “A good choice dear.” – you joked. Eloise lowered the watermelon. – “I don’t think it is ripe yet, dearest.” – she responded putting it back down. Both of you smiled at the little charade going on. – “Not ripe? My fruit is the ripest!” – The owner shouted upon hearing her. Eloise and you wouldn’t have ears for it.

Gazing at each other, you came to her side, walking off with her. You were so lost in her eyes, you barely noticed Lady Price moving on. – “Wait, where is she?” – you said out loud, looking around desperately. – “There!” – Eloise called out. Before you knew it she grabbed your hand, pulling you with her. She started running with you over the market towards the house Lady Price went in. Eloise and you came at the house as she pulled you down behind some sacks of flour.

Crouched she and you crawled a bit closer to an open window to hear word of her conversation. Eloise was narrowing her eyes a bit to focus her hearing on the conversation. What she did made you form a smile. If you could burn her image on your sight, you would be happy if her face was the only thing you could see. Her very existence radiant to you. If one were to ask who your muse was, it was her. Every second spend in her company was uplifting.

The longer you were, the harder it was to say goodbye to her. At this point you never wanted to say goodbye to her. Wanting to have her stuck to you. Heart beating loudly for her, you leaned a bit closer to her. A grave urge to be close to her. A tingle in your lips, restless hands that needed contact with her hands. As clear as day, you wanted her. You weren’t aware of your surroundings anymore. Luckily Eloise was.

She heard the door open startling her. Her body flinched as she turned round, wrapped her arms around you and dropped down with you. You fell on your back, Eloise laying on top of you. Her eyes squeezed shut as you felt her muscles pull together around you to stay hidden. Hoping you wouldn’t be seen. Hearing footsteps fade away, Eloise waited a few minutes before getting up. The moment she got up, you were boiling hot.

If it was possible, there would be steam coming out of your ears. This was the closest she had ever been to you. – “Y/n.” – she said pulling you to sit up by your hand. You needed a second to recover from that. Eloise looked behind her. – “She left. Let us go inside and see what she was doing in there.” – Eloise got up as you had to scramble yourself to your feet. Following her, you went inside. Eloise barged in loudly announcing her presence as you remained on the background. 

It took her one observation to understand what kind of house this was. – “Yes?” – a man with round glasses said curious. – “Nothing.” – she replied waving her hand. The owner went back to fill his cabinets. – “Who knew she sought out potions.” – she said smiley. – “I mean if it means becoming numb to hearing Cressida’s annoying voice I would jump at the opportunity of whatever intoxicating concoction he has in those bottles.”

Suddenly aware of you staring dreamily at her, she felt flustered. – “What?” – she asked moving her head a bit back. – “I am so in love with you.” – you confessed unable to keep it to yourself. Eloise smiled shyly away. The shop owner cleared his throat to announce for you to leave if you weren’t buying anything. Eloise and you went outside, making sure no one had seen you come from that house. Imagine the papers. His Royal highness and Miss Eloise Bridgerton seen unchaperoned in search of intoxicating herbs to numb the brain.

It would be scandalous. Eloise and you left the market. – “I believe we can take her off the list.” – Eloise said as you nodded. – “Y/n.” – she said making your flutter at how easy your name rolled off her tongue. – “I… cannot describe what my body experiences but I like it somehow. I never thought I was capable of feeling it, but I do.” – she confessed as you took both her hands.

Keeping an eye on her, you kissed her hands with care and love. Eloise smiled moving her hands so that she was now holding yours. Letting her thumb stroke your hands. Eventually Eloise and you parted as the time spend away from home was starting to get suspicious. You parted with her, knowing you would soon be with her again either to continue your search for Lady Whistledown’s identity or at another ball.

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[vinylfoxbooks]

July 8 - Traditional | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 1066 Part 4 of Medium James AU Previous part | First part

“What are you up to?” Regulus asks, walking up to James who’s kneeling near a plant pot in one of the greenhouses.

James jumps and turns around, holding a hand over their heart, “Merlin, Reggie, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” the younger hums, “what are you doing out here? I didn’t take you for the gardening type.”

“My mum likes gardening.” James shrugs, “And I like helping her, but that’s not why I’m here.” They gesture to a pile of flowers laying on a nearby table, “I’m collecting those.” 

“Why are you collecting calendulas and marigolds?” Regulus asks, peering over the plant pot that they’re sitting in front of next, “And sunflowers?”

“I’m getting cock’s comb next.” James hums, “I’m decorating the dorm with them.”

Regulus hums, walking to the table and casting a charm on the flowers to make them last longer, “Didn’t know you were the decorating type.”

“For sabbaths, I am. It’s almost Samhain and Dia de los Muertos and I always decorate the dorm with this stuff.”

“Samhain? Your family still celebrates that?”

James laughs softly, gently pulling up another sunflower and setting it to their side, “I’ve already told you that my family is a lot more traditional than you realise.”

“Not even my family celebrates Samhain.”

“Your family doesn’t celebrate anything.” James snarks, “They’re miserable people who refuse to celebrate any holiday.”

“We celebrate Christmas.”

“As a show of arms.” The older hums, “They make you and Sirius get dressed up in stuffy clothes and show off their perfect manor so they can show off to people.” Deciding that they’re happy enough with the amount of sunflowers they have, they set the bundle of flowers on the table as well before moving to another planter full of cock’s comb. Regulus passively put the same charm on the sunflowers too. “Besides, with my family’s ties to necromancy and our ability to see the dead, why wouldn’t we want to celebrate something like Samhain and Dia de los Muertos. They’re all about celebration and honouring the dead.”

“Don’t they usually symbolize that the veil between our world and the afterlife is thin?”

James hums, “It’s fun for people like me, the world is crawling with spirits. Usually they’re too busy to acknowledge you, trying to get to their families, but there's… a lot of spirits around this time.”

“Is there more than usual, even now?”

They nod, “I’ve seen quite a few new spirits coming to visit their families at Hogwarts. It’s… overwhelming.” They stand up with a bunch of bright red cock’s comb in their hands, walking them over to the table as well and letting Regulus charm the flowers. They take some pre-cut red ribbons that were sitting on the table and start assembling the flowers into bouquets. Regulus catches on quickly and starts helping them. 

“I’m assuming your parents taught you this.” Regulus asks after a while, putting aside yet another bouquet.

James nods, “Like I said, my mum likes gardening and I’d always help her make the bouquets and I’d help them cook all of the food. I loved helping my dad set up the ofrenda, too.” 

“If you put that much effort into your school work,” Regulus starts, “You might actually do well.”

“I do alright in my classes.” James hums, “This is just burned into my mind. I need to remember to charge my crystals as well.” 

“What type of crystals are traditional for Samhain?”

“My family usually has a lot of carnelian, amber, and smoky quartz.” James finishes up the last bouquet and takes one of the leftover marigolds -- a beautiful thing with red inside each of the petals blending out into the fiery orange -- and tucks it into Regulus’ ear, the beautiful colour standing out against Regulus’ stark black hair. Regulus coughs and looks down to hide his rapidly reddening face. 

He clears his throat, “Did you need help bringing these up to your dorm?”

“If you don’t mind.” James smiles, grabbing a bunch of the bouquets. Regulus grabs the remaining ones and they head up to the Gryffindor tower in relative silence, James just humming as they go along. 

Eventually, they make it up to the portrait and James whispers the password, the fat lady swinging open. James leads Regulus up to their dorm room and knocks on the door, calling out how Remus and Sirius should be decent -- which Regulus does not appreciate that it has to come as a warning -- before they push the door open and walk in. 

“Did you get all the flowers you wanted?” Remus asks from his bed, glancing up from his book when they walk in, “Hello, Regulus.”

“Remus.” Regulus nods, trailing behind James and putting the bouquets he’s holding on their bed after they do.

“Did James drag you into helping them?” Sirius laughs, walking out of the bathroom, “They’re good at doing that.”

“Then why weren’t either of you helping them?” Regulus hums, picking up one of the bouquets and putting it where James tells him to.

“Because the full moon just happened so James didn’t want to let me help them and Sirius messed up cutting the flowers so bad in fourth year that they refuse to let him come help them decorate” Remus explains, taking one of the bouquets that James hands them and putting it in a vase on his bedside table. 

“I see.” 

James hums, “Regulus was actually really helpful,” they smile at him, “I might have to recruit him to help me and my parents for Yule.”

Regulus nods, “I am going to be going with you for winter hols, so that would be fine with me.” 

“Perfect!” 

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” Sirius shouts, whirling on his brother, “You’re coming with us for what?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” James hums, a small smile on their face and tilting their head, “My bad.” If Regulus wasn’t already aware of his massive crush on the older, he sure would be aware of it now. 

He finishes decorating with James before finally being guided out of the Gryffindor tower by them, their hand on his lower back. And if, when he gets back to his dorm room, he takes the marigold out of his hair and puts it in a vase he leaves on his bedside table, that’s for him, Evan, and Barty to know -- and tease him relentlessly about.

Next part

[itisme-rosie]

-- party first meets; marauders' era! regulus black, evan rosier, barty crouch jr. (separately) wherein one meets them at a party for the first time.

cw: fluff!! bartender evan, own characterization of evan and barty (kinda influenced by t*kt*k oneshots), flirty barty, probs a little ooc reg? pandora mentions in evan's and throwing up mentions in barty's.

[ i don't know what to tell you guys about this one. au where it's a perfect world and no one is fighting? haha. anyway, my characterization isn't perfect and it isn't 100% tiktok based, but yeah. it's a you like it or hate it moment. i've had this in the back of my notes app for so long too so the characterization is also months old. ]

masterlist | rules

[ evan rosier ]

"just how sure are you that that's even safe to put in your mouth, pandora?" i ask, eyebrows raised as i eye the cup she had in her hand.

"well, i trust the bartender, so," the blonde shrugs and takes a swig from the cup, a look of satisfaction on her face when the initial bitterness wears off.

"the bartender?" i ask, mouth agape, "you mean to tell me there's a bartender during slytherin house parties?"

"you would know if you came around when i would invite you to them," pandora says in a singsong voice, taking another sip and making a sound of satisfaction before offering the cup to me, "want a taste?"

"i don't know..." my eyes squint in suspicion, "do i?"

"it's really good,"

"i don't care what my mother says, you are a terrible influence on me,"

"one drink," she whines, "just one and i'll never peer pressure you into taking another one again,"

"you're terrible," i shake my head, sighing, "but fine - i better not have magically ended up face first in someone's toilet when i wake up tomorrow,"

pandora squeals in excitement, clapping happily before taking my hand and weaving through the crowd of students in the slytherin common room all the way to the back, where a transfigured mini-bar stood and behind the bar stood one of the handsomest (and most terrifying) students in slytherin -- evan rosier.

it was hard not have heard about him, or the rumors about veela blood running through his veins. maybe it had nothing to do with veelas and good looks just ran in their blood, we will never know. as i watched him pour out drinks, i suddenly understood why a multitude of students - male and female alike - developed some sort of liking for him. (okay, maybe i did too at one point in time during my early years in hogwarts but that is not the focus here, okay?)

pandora walks over to him, and he nods in acknowledgement to her before looking at me up and down.

"you remember them, right? i tell you about them?" pandora pats my shoulder, "well, they have never had a drink by you before, so, i obviously had to drag the over here to have a taste,"

"you say plenty pandora," evan deadpans, raising an eyebrow and smirking when pandora makes a noise of protest.

but evan nods, finishing off one drink before leaning against his palms on the counter, looking over me again in a way that had me shuffling behind pandora.

merlin, he was intimidating.

"you have any preferences?" he asks, voice smooth like butter.

"preferences...?"

"how hard do you want your alcohol?" pandora supplies.

"are you a lightweight? wouldn't want you passing out in the middle of the school hallways, merlin knows pandora won't be able to lug you all the way back to your dorms with how drunk she'll be at the end of the night,"

pandora makes another offended noise and her hand lightly swats the poor man's arm but he doesn't flinch. that alone was enough to tell me that he might have been already used to her antics.

"you're painting me in a bad light here rosier," she grumbles, "how am i supposed to convince her to come over to the next party now?"

"have you tried asking nicely?"

"...i've tried dragging her here with a bag over her head but who really keeps track - oh, there you are!"

i have little to no chance to protest before pandora latches onto one of her ravenclaw friends, the latter throwing his arm over her with loud laughter before they disappear into the crowd - presumably to disturb someone else in that friendship circle, but what mattered to me in that moment as that despite all her promises, pandora had left me unattended with one of the most intimidating students in hogwarts and he was watching me like an ant under a microscope, his arms flexing as they glided over the makeshift bar.

"she'll be back to check on you eventually," evan drawls out, sliding a dark glass that hid the color of the liquid inside over to me.

i went quiet and he must have sensed my apprehension to pick up the cup.

"pandora would strangle me if i slipped anything less than savory in there," he calls over his shoulder, pulling out bottles from a shelf behind him, "plus, i wouldn't want to scare you away already, not when i think that it'd be nice to have new faces to learn about,"

"meaning?" i ask quizzically, the first time i ever actually properly acknowledged him, pulling the glass closer to me.

he shrugs, "i know every single slytherins' - the ones old enough to drink, of course - order by heart, it's the same old, same old, party after party, new face means taking time away from that bunch -" evan nods towards the other side of the common room where pandora and the rest of their group stood, presumably causing havoc, with a fond smile, "- to help someone figure out just exactly what they want," his eyes find mine and i can't help the heat from warming my cheeks and the bastard didn't even try to hide the smirk he had on.

i hum in faux contemplation, looking away awkwardly and taking a sip before my eyes widen at the burst of flavors, "oh wow," i say simply, taking a bigger sip.

evan's head drops as he laughs to himself at my reaction and he lifts it again as he extends his hand towards me, "evan rosier, by the way,"

i smile back, shaking his hand, "nice to meet you,"

honestly, all i could think about was how nice he looked when he smiled - and if i should indulge pandora the next time she invites me to a party in the slytherin common room.

[ regulus black ]

bathroom lines pain me immensely.

you'd think that with the amount of students they have in this damn school they'd build more efficient bathrooms, but no.

true, there were more bathrooms around this floor, but those were too far away and far too hidden in dark hallways patrolled by the professors for half-drunk people to wander to so here i was, standing in line for the bathroom that i was positive held the same person for 15 minutes and counting.

i sigh, checking my watch and tapping my foot impatiently, the music blaring in the common room too loud for me to even think properly much less think to kick the door down just so i could pee.

the man behind me echoed my sigh, and he moved to stand beside me in the cramped hallway in such a way that i was pressed against the wall and i could catch every detail of his side profile plus the smell of booze and his cologne, a hint of a tattoo on his arm peeking out of his rolled up sleeves - and i catch myself gawking and i shake my head as if to rid myself of my delusions. but that's not the point, the point was that he reached his arm past my head to knock impatiently at the door.

then again, and again and i remained in the same position until he sighed and looked over at me.

"sorry about that," he says, leaning down so i could hear his voice.

"'s no problem," i murmur back, the alcohol in my veins increasing the chances that i would say something stupid if i kept staring at him, so i lowered my gaze to the shoes on my feet, "guess i'm not going to the bathroom anytime soon,"

with the dingy lighting in this part of the hallway plus the music pounding in my ear, it was hard to tell who exactly it was i was conversing with, not that it mattered at the moment - i was at this party to enjoy myself, not overthink about the identity of a strange man i met by the bathrooms. doesn't that just sound wrong?

"unfortunately, yes," the man grumbles, "but - nevermind,"

i raise my head to look at him, head tilting it to the side curiously, "hmm?"

"...i don't want to make you uncomfortable," he answers gruffly.

"ah," i smile tightly, "right, i see, thanks,"

the music fills the silence between us again and we both stay where we were, not moving a bit even though we knew there was no chance in hell whoever was in the bathroom was not coming out any time soon.

soon enough, he sighs again, "there's a bathroom in my dorm, if you're up to going in there,"

"well, why'd you line up in the communal bathroom instead of go up to your dorm to use the bathroom there?"

'so he was a slytherin then', i thought to myself. that narrowed down the possibilities but the list of slytherin students old enough to be partying (plus the ones that snuck in) was still pretty broad, but i needed to be on guard - a stranger at a party? no one can be too safe. i pat my wand through my clothes to make sure it was still in my pocket.

"my friends are barring the path to the dorms like a bunch of cavemen," the stranger says irritatedly, "they think i'm going to lock myself up in the dorm again,"

i stay quiet, mulling over this information, "would you have? locked yourself up in your dorm? no offense, but i'm guessing you aren't a big fan of the party scene,"

"i would have, and don't worry, i am indeed not a fan,"

silence again.

"well?" he asks, starting to fidget.

"hmm?" i look up at him and it takes a while for his earlier offer to register in my brain again and when it does, i start to sputter a little, "are you sure you won't mind? your dorm mates won't mind?"

"you've been waiting longer than i have and those morons are probably wasted somewhere," he shakes his head, "we'll slip in and out quickly, they won't notice and i don't mind,"

i think for a bit and my bladder decided to remind me that i was in desperate need of a bathroom so i nod, "sure - yeah, if you're sure, i'd appreciate it, thanks,"

"c'mon then," his head jerks in the other direction and i follow atfer him, almost getting lost in the crowd of people, but he was nice enough to glance back every once in a while to make sure i was still following after him.

the lights were brighter when we got to the main room, but he never turned around long enough for me to see who he was, but i could tell he was well dressed. extremely well dressed for a house party but dishevelled enough that he didn't look too out of place. i shake my head again, realizing that i was getting to lost in my own drunk thoughts, and when a pair of dancing students nearly separated me from him, i instinctively reached for the back of his white button-up and he looks back immediately and my hand drops as quickly as i reached for him when i realize who he was.

"regulus black," i murmur, my hand drawn to my chest like i had been burned.

no one was immune or deaf to the rumors about him, about his family. as unapproachable as he seemed, he was a decent enough person inside of the classroom in the sense that as a partner, he was more than capable of carrying his own in a task, basing on rumors, of course. it didn't help that he was also a beautiful man, though i would never say that out loud. i totally understand why the girls in our year found him attractive even though he was intimidating.

"still need the bathroom or do you not wish to be seen with me?" regulus deadpans and i am reminded that we are standing in the middle of the dance floor.

"aren't you worried about the rumors that could start if someone saw you taking me into your room? regardless of the real reason - which people will totally ignore,"

"i don't care at this point," he rolls his eyes, "hurry up if you still want to,"

i did. i still wanted (and needed) to use his bathroom. worries about rumors be damned.

his friends - crouch and rosier - had intercepted us at the steps and the music was too loud for me to comprehend what they started teasing him about, plus the way that i was still reeling from the fact that regulus black just offered for me to use his bathroom.

he taps on my shoulder and i look up at him, blinking and trying to ignore the looks barty and evan were giving us both out of the corner of my eye.

"wait -" i pause when we're halfway up the stairs, introducing myself with a shaky extended hand and he looks at me curiously.

"i thought i'd introduce myself before i intrude in your private space,"

he looks almost amused, glancing at the ground with a shake of his head and he takes my hand in his, shaking it firmly, "regulus, regulus black," he smirks and i feel my heart beat faster, "delighted to make your acquaintance."

[ barty crouch jr. ]

i was not a party person. maybe half a party person but not exactly the most social butterfly that i go hunting for parties just that if i was invited, i'd be more inclined to attend so long as someone was with me.

and right now, the *insert colorful insult here* that invited me to a party hosted by the slytherin quidditch team for their well-fought win against hufflepuff was no where to be seen.

re-entering the room after not seeing him anywhere outside, i sigh, feeling a dull throb in my temples as i contemplated just leaving without him and pretending to wave away his half-assed apologies for leaving me alone at a party tomorrow morning.

turning back to the door, sudden chanting of his name had my turning back and scanning the room for where the commotion was - a large table in one of the corners that hadn't been occupied by dancing groups and couples surrounded by a small crowd of people. curiously, i approach it. might as well tell him i was about to leave his ass alone here to navigate his way back to his dorm alone.

i worm my way to the front of the crowd, earning more than a few elbows to the side and snarky comments about taking up the good spot, but i could only gawk as i watched my friend chug a glass (an extremely large glass) of some mystery liquid i was glad i wasn't pouring into my mouth if the strong smell was all we were going on.

"seriously?" i groan, catching his attention when he lowers the glass and the crowd cheers, stopping when he hurls his guts out into a bucket.

feeling the weight of someone's stare into the side of my head, i glance in that direction and i immediately avert my eyes when they do indeed meet someone else's.

"that your date?" the person asks in a cocky voice, stepping closer to my date from the side of the table opposite me.

begrudgingly, he nods, clutching his stomach.

my eyes widen, "i am not -"

"barty crouch jr., love, a pleasure," the stranger - now barty, i suppose, sticks his hand out to me and i hesitantly shake it, which earns another round of cheering from the crowd around me and i fix a sharp glare at my friend, pulling my hand from barty's.

"what did you do?"

"made a bet that he now has to pay for - quite a few of them, actually," barty laughs.

"what does that have to do with me?" i ask snarkily.

"let me explain it to her -"

"he bet me 5 galleons i couldn't drink my own glass of that," barty nods at the now empty glass my friend drank from, "and it just built up from that until he ended up promising me a date with you,"

i stare at barty, then back at my sheepishly smiling friend, the moron was already rubbing the back of his head like he was anticipating when i'd hit him, "you absolutely massive piece of -"

my friend tugs me closer by the arm, whispering, "at least he's cute,"

"that is not the point!"

"i wouldn't have done it if he was ugly," he hisses.

i stare at him, the cogs turning in my head until it finally clicked, "you did this on purpose?" my voice goes up a pitch.

"in my defense, you were super into this guy when you first saw him in one of your NEWTS classes years ago, right?" he lifts his arms to protect himself from the barrage of blows i was about to rain down on him, "you were devastated when you didn't find him anywhere after!"

barty clears his throat and my cheeks warm when i thought he heard our conversation.

"nothing has to happen," barty raises his hands in surrender when i turn to face him, "i can walk you to your dorm and we can call it all even love,"

"i doubt it'll be that easy," i say uncertainly, watching the crowd around us disperse to rejoining the rest of the party.

barty's eyebrow quirks up with the corner of his lips, "don'tcha trust me?"

i make a face that makes him laugh, meeting his eyes head-on before i look away, "we've only just met," i shrug weakly, "can you really blame me for being apprehensive?"

"i suppose i can't blame you," he mimics my shrug and i let a small smile form on my lip.

"aha!" the man laughs triumphantly, "i made you smile,"

"i could have been smiling at anything, there's a lot of stimuli around here, the music, the booze -"

"or you could have just been even slightly amused by me," he interjects.

neither confirming nor denying his statement, i look around to look for my friend so we could both get back to the dorm but the sneaky son of a you-know-what had slipped away while i was distracted.

barty must have noticed how i was looking around because he laughed, "he tapped out when we were talking," he muses, "your friend is one sly bastard,"

"he is," i fume, "starting battles he leaves me to fight -" i give up on looking at him, staring at my fingers as they drum on the table and i sigh, my head drooping before i look up at barty again.

i tell him my name, extending my hand, "barty," i say when his hand envelopes mine, his name rolling off my tongue smoothly, "i hope it isn't too late to take you up on your offer?"

"you mean the condition you were forced into?"

"i'm trying to loosen up here," i grumble, pouting for a split second until i spotted his smirk.

he kisses the back of my hand, "i'll protect you from the dark hallways love, don't worry,"

[marcskywalker]

merthur au/prompts I can't stop thinking about (@ fic writers)

arthur being magic positive and hiding it from merlin. I spoke more about it here and @neupulman wrote this amazing fic based on it but omg this idea lives in my head RENT FUCKING FREE and I'd love as many fics written on it as possible

merlin being cursed (or wtv) and temporarily loses his magic. He grows insanely controlling of arthur cause he feels like he can no longer protect arthur from danger if he doesn't have magic and is constantly trying is order him around. no, you're not allowed to go there, no you can't say that, no you're not allowed to accept food from him. and arthur is just ?????? tf is wrong with my best friend?? but doesn't read much into it because it's merlin and merlin's always been a little weird and bossy. merlin keeps getting into so much more trouble (cause again, his usual way of staying out of trouble is magic) so arthur's put in position to protect him more often and both of them are ???????? "why THE FUCK ARE you putting yourself in danger for me??" and "WHY ARE YOU getting into so much trouble??" until they figure out that "oh you're in love with me and can't bare to see any harm come to me" and "oh you have magic and someone already hurt you by taking it away"

Arthur meeting Merlin's family for the first time and being accepted. Idk how clear I can make this but I hate Arthur's family and how is he is treated by them (except you ygraine, you're dead and lovely) so ya someone give that boy loving affirmations

One of them is brainwashed/mind controlled/possessed and beats the shit out of the other person who refuses to fight back. I LOVE this trope. It slaps all the time. Look at destiel. Look at stucky. ALL THE TIME

another au that I've spoke about before AND I'LL SPEAK ABOUT IT AGAIN: I took that scene where Arthur says "I'll give up my crown just see her smile again" or something like that about morgana, and ran with it. There is only so many assassination attempts a brother can go through before he wilts and does another to have his sister back. In Arthur's case: he willingly hands over the throne for a chance at having a chance at his pesty, loving, older sister (I AM A YOUNGER BROTHER ARTHUR TRUTHER) look at him with something other than endless hate. what I Love about this prompt is that it could go so so many different ways. @mobycotton was lovely enough to write this amazing fic for me that I LOVED. In my head, Arthur is really shaken up by another one of Morgana's attempts at killing him. He doesn't know what's saved him and at this point he wishes whatever it is would stop. He goes down a spiral thinking of his family; the mother that he killed, the father that he let down, the uncle he betrayed and the sister he never deserved. What good could he be for Camelot when he wasn't even good enough for his flesh and blood. So he announces his truce; gives it over to morgana and leaves Camelot and everyone he knows behind. The knights and merlin have to eventually hunt him down and convince him otherwise (and he meets random people along the way who are stans of King Arthur just like me and he gets some sort of self esteem back)

Protective BAMF merlin. Basically merlin overhears someone talking shit about his prince and starts a fist fight. Arthur finds out

Mid s1 merthur where Arthur knows he's in love with Merlin and he shoves it DEEP inside, sticks to pining after his manservant like the pathetic (lovingly) puppy he is. All Merlin knows is that, for whatever reason, he would rather eat his own feet than let anything happen to Arthur. Which is why when brave, stupid arthur walks towards a stranger light source in the forest; he follows without hesitation, only to see...... arthur and himself snogging against a tree? Basically a pining, repressed prince Arthur and Merlin I don't know what this weird feeling in my tummy when I see him is Emrys accidentally walks through a portal into an alternatively universe where they know how to communicate well and have been disgustingly in love. The four of them have to work together to get Arthur and Merlin back where they belong.

Merlin makes a deal with his king cenred: for protection of his village, he will infiltrate Camelot's castle and bring them down. He just wishes someone had told him that prince charming of Camelot would make him fall in love with his pouty lips and gooey eyes. I don't know if yáll have noticed this but Arthur pouts A LOT. I can't take him seriously smh

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Fourteen

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

a/n: i'm so sorry for the wait, but here we are! enjoy my loves. thank you for all of your comments on this fic ♡

warnings: strong language

wc: 2976

masterlist

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!! if your name is bold, i couldn't tag your blog :( tags below:

@slyth3rin-princess-deactivated2 @lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo @morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @camille-1019 @valkyrie418 @animeloverfreak310 @budugu @marplest @torresbarnes @bunny24sstuff @champagneesupernova @serafilms @siriusly-parker-main @lovely-maryj @i-bitch-you-bitch @astablacksword @sun-fiower-seed @tinafuentes @venusjustleft @omgitstatertot @aangsupremacy @ilovezy @leclerc16s @aslanvez @talesofadragon @hnyusui @3vasaur @the-skys-musical-echo @yeolsbubbles @idk-dolans @xx-kiraa-xx @sunbruized

Chapter Fourteen - I Think I Love You

The sconces flicker against the stone walls, barely lighting your journey to the tower. Everyone else was still enjoying dinner and celebrating the announcement of the ball, but you were making the winding trip to find Draco. You thought he might have escaped to the tower early, hoping to find him waiting there for you, but when you reach the top he's nowhere to be seen. It was odd, but perhaps he'd retired to his dorm and forgotten about your meeting.

That, you figured, wasn't a good enough excuse.

The fact he hadn't shared two words with you since his game on Saturday didn't sit well, as you immediately jumped to the conclusion that he's mad at you. He's mad that you told him to spend time with Astoria and walked off without him. He's mad that instead of giving in to him, you made the bold decision to let his future wife entertain him for a while. You huff irritably, and begin storming down the staircase to be met at the bottom by the man of the hour.

"You're leaving?"

"Well, I thought you weren't showing."

"Am I late?” He says, checking his watch.

You stand at the foot of the stairs, staring at Draco, now out of his school uniform and in comfier clothes. He can see you're frustrated, but far too cautious to ask why.

"I saw you leave dinner early,” you then say, "so I just thought you’d be here already.”

"Well, I’m here now," he smiles lightly, "I just wanted a shower, that’s why I left early," he lies, "c'mon, lets go chill out for a bit."

He takes your hand, and without a second thought, you allow him to take you back up the stairs you just came down. Once at the top he pulls you over to the balcony, the night breeze causing you to shiver a little.

"You cold?" he asks gently, going to take his hoodie off when you stop him, grabbing the fabric. He gives you a questioning look, "what's wrong?"

"Leave it on," you demand softly, "I'm fine."

"Okay," he says slowly, not sure as to why you refused his jumper when you haven't in the past, "are you alright? You seem off."

"Oh, I don't know," you shrug dramatically, "you decide to not speak to me for the rest of the weekend and then show up offering me your clothes. But, it's fine. You carry on, Draco."

"Huh?" he raises an eyebrow, and you're already finished before you've started, rolling your eyes and leaning against the railing, "I thought you wanted me to leave you alone?"

"When did I say that?" you argue back, brows furrowed.

"You told me to go with Astoria," he says, and you can see how carefully he's choosing his words right now, "I figured that meant you didn't want to spend time with me."

You laugh breathlessly in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

He looks incredibly sheepish.

"Yes?"

"Unbelievable," you mutter, and he scoffs.

"What is?" he questions irritably, "you're hard to read, you know. You tell me to spend time with another girl, what am I supposed to think?"

"For Merlin's sake, Draco," you raise your voice and hold out your arms, "I told you to go with her because I thought it was for the best, not because I don't want to see you. I convinced myself you were mad at me."

He's looking at you like you've just spoken in French to him.

"Mad?" he repeats, raising both his eyebrows now, "I'm not mad. I'm never mad with you."

"Then why have you been avoiding me?" you ask, voice softer and clearly sad. His heart sinks knowing you've been worried about upsetting him. He was hurt when you left him standing there, but he knows why you did it. He understands its hard.

"I just," he begins to say but gets a little lost. He wishes you still passed notes like before sometimes, "when you told me to go with Astoria, I thought you were trying to distance yourself," he looks towards his fiddling hands, "and I fucking hate that."

He wasn't wrong, you were trying to do that. You were trying to do the right thing, or the thing you were made to believe was the right thing. You sigh deeply before closing the gap between the two of you and taking his fiddling hands.

"Draco," you say softly, his full attention on you now, eyes glistening with that same adoration he always has for you, "I don't want to distance myself, but the reality is, we have to, just a little," his eyebrows furrow, "even if it's just meeting once a week-"

"No," he cuts you off, "why should we do that? I know things are difficult but I don't want to lose you."

"You're not losing me, Draco," you reassure him, squeezing his hands tighter, "I just think, considering how things are going, we need to learn to be without one another," you reach up and touch his face, all tension immediately leaving his body, "we both know this little world of ours can't last forever."

He leans into your touch, savouring it. No one makes him feel the safety that you do, and he curses his family and his bloodline for depriving him of this feeling. He feels your thumb rub his cheek, and goosebumps form on his arms. Never has he craved something like he does you.

"I'm sorry," he then whispers, "I'm sorry. I'm ruining everything."

"None of this is your fault," you tell him gently, "we can't help the families we come from. You're trying to honour them, even if you don't want to. You're a good man, Draco. You'll make someone very happy someday."

You can feel the tears at the corner of your eyes, chest tying in a uncomfortably tight knot. It was painful, all of this was painful, and you could see it in his eyes. Pain, frustration, turmoil.

"You're too good for this world, you know that?" he whispers, moving his hands to your waist and pulling you closer. You should push him away, but you don't, "and far too good for me."

"Don't be silly."

"I'm not," he presses his forehead to yours, "it's the truth. No matter what you say."

Absentmindedly, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. Your noses nudge again, and you think this is a repeat of the Quidditch pitch. He brushes his nose against yours. You do it back. It's just the two of you, with a slight breeze, and moonlight casting shadows in the tower. It's perfect. He's perfect, and he's leaning in, so close, almost there...

"Draco," you say quickly, pulling back from his embrace, "we can't. We can't keep doing this."

"Right, I'm sorry, sorry," he rambles, running a hand through his hair, "I just got carried away."

"It's fine," you say breathlessly, trying to compose yourself, "we just need to keep our distance a little more. That's all."

He nods. He agrees, but it's unfair.

"Yeah," he says, pacing, "sorry. I'm sorry."

"Stop, it's fine," you say again, moving closer to the railing to feel the cold night air against your clammy skin. He comes to stand beside you, hands on the cool metal before you. He's so pent up with frustration his knuckles are almost white.

"This fucking sucks," he murmurs, and you hum, "and now this shitty dance is happening. Someone really has it in for me. I think it's Aunt Bella."

You laugh through your nose lightly.

"I love dances," you say, looking out at the forest, feeling his gaze back on you, "the last one I went to was the Yule Ball."

"I wish I could say the same," he says gloomily, "my mother uses any excuse to hold a party. That way she can invite all of her favourite bachelorettes."

You look across at him. Such anger in one person, you wonder how he keeps it all in there. Just from his body language, the way he holds himself, you can see the peril he's in.

"Whatever happens," you smile softly, "I'm still here for you, you know that."

He smiles back. It's both sad and grateful.

"As I am for you," he says quietly, placing his hand over yours, "best friends forever, right?"

That makes your smile grow wider and his fondness for you only increases tenfold. He wants to make you smile like that for the rest of his life.

"Best friends forever," you repeat, looking back at him with glossy, soft eyes. Draco then has a thought so sudden it shakes him.

I think I love you.

You don't notice the change in his expression as you're simply playing with his fingers, but it hits him so hard it knocks the wind out of him. He's looking at you, all of you, from your head, to your intertwined hands, to your feet, and the thought only intensifies.

I think I love you. I think I love you.

He can't tell you. He swallows the lump in his throat and takes your hand, holding it tighter and regaining your attention.

"Just so you know," he tells you seriously, and you're all ears, "things would be a whole lot different if I had it my way," you take a sharp breath in, and he can see the tears threatening to spill, "I want you to remember that, alright?"

You nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Unable to say anything else, you let a tear slip. He moves like lightning to wipe it away, before giving in and breaking the rule you just made. You don't hesitate to hug him back, squeezing each other as if your life depends on it.

"After tonight," you whisper to him, sniffling, and Draco feels his own eyes water, "we'll just talk during school hours, okay? It's for the best, even if we hate it."

He doesn't answer verbally, but you feel him nod, head resting against yours. He knows it has to be this way, but it doesn't make it any easier. For the rest of your time in the tower, Draco holds you as close as physically possible, knowing that this very well might be the last time he gets to have you like this.

As it just so happened, the next two weeks were such a whirlwind, that you barely had time to speak to Hermione, nevermind Draco. With homework coming out of your ears and the constant threat of finding a dress, the ball had almost lost its charm. By the time you had made it to Gladrags Wizardwear, you were wondering if it was all even worth it.

Draco had kept his distance from you, so much so that he even stepped aside when you walked by. It was like he couldn't even breathe near you anymore. A few friendly smiles and the odd small talk was about as good as it got. For the better, you tell yourself, all for the better.

"This one?" Hermione questions, holding up a lovely pale pink dress.

"For you, yes," you tell her, "but for me, a solid no."

"Really?" she knits her eyebrows together, "I think it would look nice on you."

She places it back in the rack and starts to shift through the other dresses on sale. Gladrags Wizardwear wasn't as packed out today as it had been, so you both decided to find an outfit for the ball later that week. Hermione seemed so excited, you didn't have the heart to tell her you weren't feeling up to it.

There wasn't much point if you had to watch him dance with someone else.

"Okay, you have to like this one," she said, looking awfully pleased with herself as she pulls out a silky blue dress. It hung perfectly from the hanger, and from your expression, Hermione knew she'd picked right this time, "shall we try it on?"

"Heavens, no," you breathe, "I couldn't afford that, just look at it. It's beautiful."

"So? Doesn't mean you can't try it," she tells you, already heading towards the dressing room, "we can always look for a cheaper one in Witch Weekly," she leans in a whispers, shoving the dress into your hands and your body into the changing booth.

You stare at yourself for a while in the long mirror. The dress was exquisite, such a pretty shade of blue and it fit in all the right places. It was perfect, but the price tag wasn't. You sigh, gliding your hands over the nice material. You wonder if Draco would like it, and then curse yourself. You hadn't realised how accustomed you had become to your meetings in the tower. Only last night you found yourself halfway down the corridor when you suddenly remembered; no one was waiting for you. It was like a second nature, going to see him when the night fell, but now you found yourself twiddling your thumbs. So, you asked for extra homework to make up the time, burying yourself in your work to numb the sadness you felt.

Why him, you think to yourself, why did it have to be someone like him?

"Are you ready?" you hear a muffled voice through the curtain, reminding you of where you were right now, "I want to see it!"

You bring yourself back to the room, taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain to see Hermione. Her eyes widened, her mouth curling into a marvelous expression.

"Oh my goodness," she mutters, "I think that may have been made for you."

"You think?" you ask, suddenly feeling very exposed, "I'm not sure, it's tighter than what I would usually go for."

"Honestly, if you don't buy it, I will," she says, in all seriousness, "you have to get it."

You take the price tag and jab your finger on it.

"Have you seen this?" you whisper to her, "it's my entire banks worth."

"I'll do half?"

"Don't be stupid."

Just then the bell on the door rings, and in walks the last person you wished to see. She wondered in, as effortless as ever, with several other Slytherin girls. Hermione followed your gaze to her, noticing immediately your change in demeanour.

Astoria Greengrass was an undeniable beauty. Even without the trimmings, she was simply stunning. Her hair cascaded down her back in chocolate curls, natural eyelashes long and black, and eyes like polished emeralds. They shone, glinting in the gentle sunlight coming in through the window. Her smile was infectious, causing the other girls in the group to laugh along with her. She headed straight for the rack of green. Always a Slytherin. Her jet black fingernails grazed each dress. Any of them would do. Price didn't matter to her. Hermione turned back to you.

"Anyway," she tried to lighten the mood, "we can always look for a similar one in Witch Weekly like I said. How about it?"

"I think I'll just pass," you then say, clearly swallowing the lump in your throat, "I'll get changed and then we can go, yeah?"

Hermione just nodded, giving you a sad smile. She wasn't going to keep you there, not when Astoria was parading around. You slid off the dress, wiping a stray tear in the process. No doubt it would be her on Draco's arm at the weekend, perhaps in one of those searingly expensive green gowns. You carefully put the dress back on the hanger, and left without looking back.

Little did you know, someone was watching as you left the store and headed for the Three Broomsticks.

As the evening rolled in, you bid your farewell to Hermione and headed to your dorm for some peace. Dinner didn't sound that appetising, but sitting in your room as you moped most definitely did. Luckily for you, the common room would be empty at this time, so there was no obstacles to get in the way of feeling sorry for yourself.

Or so you thought.

The common room was empty, as you had presumed, apart from one boy that seemed to be pacing in the middle of it. You recognised him as captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Edward Chambers. As you entered, he stopped his pacing immediately, coming to holt and looking for who had walked in the door. For some reason, a splash of relief fills his features.

"Ah, there you are," he says, a smile curling at his lips, "I've been waiting for you."

"Excuse me?" you knit your eyebrows together. Edward appears to wipe his palms against his robes, before striding across the space to you. When he reached a comfortable distance, you noticed how utterly nervous he was. A unsettled feeling begins to swirl in your stomach.

"I hope you don't think bad of me," he begins, "I was planning this for a while but I'm afraid my nerves got the better of me," he chuckles nervously, and the feeling in your stomach intensifies as he waves his wand, flowers appearing out of thin air, "Y/N, if you have yet to find a date for the dance this coming weekend, then I would be honoured to take you. Will you be my date?"

Your voice gets stuck in your throat. Edward wasn't a stranger, but he wasn't a friend, either, just a boy that you knew from passing and sharing the same coloured robes. He was tall and well built from Quidditch, soft brown locks and set of lovely green eyes. It wasn't uncommon for him to get asked on dates, in fact he was rather popular with the girls. You would have never in a million years have expected him to take a liking to you.

Yet here he was, holding a beautiful bouquet of roses, almost shaking in anticipation.

"Edward," you breathe, clearly in shock, "I had no idea that you-"

"I've kept it quiet," he then rushes out, "and I should have approached you sooner, but I'm asking you now. I- I just really like you, Y/N."

It was all so sudden, that your head felt light and your legs like jelly. How could you say no? It'd be like kicking a kitten. You swallow thickly, thoughts of Draco rushing through your head as you stare at the pretty boy in front of you. 

"I, uh, need to think about it?"

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits

[liminalmemories21]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @cha-melodius for the tag!

How many works do you have on ao3?

33

What's your total ao3 word count?

491,391 (but I'm going to tick over to over 500,000 on Saturday or Sunday - spoilers!)

What fandoms do you write for?

911: Lonestar, and I dabble in the idea of 911 (OG)

Top five fics by kudos:

Long Story Short (series)

A home isn't always the house we live in

It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes, or bags!

Always Wear Your Invisible Crown

When the sun came up you were looking at me

Do you respond to comments?

I try to.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of them? I am really not here for the angst.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them?

I don't know, maybe a toss up between It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes, or bags! and Once Upon a Bus

Do you get hate on fics?

So far I've gotten lucky, and I haven't really. I appreciate it.

Do you write smut?

More so lately than at the beginning.

Craziest crossover:

Not strictly speaking a crossover, but knave-verse is an unhinged White Collar AU.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not so far.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not one that's been posted. I've co-written with a IRL friend, but we've never really actually finished anything.

All time favorite ship?

Do not make me pick a favorite child. I've been around fandom too long to pick one, or even five (or ten).

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There's the kid-fic that I want to finish, but cannot find the right hook.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. Apparently (mysteriously) heist plots. Emotional descriptives.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Any scene that involves more than two people. Maybe I can manage three people at the outside. More than that and I lose track of the choreography, and I keep forgetting which people have arrived and which have left.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If it's appropriate - like Carlos (and his family) think in/speak Spanish, so having them use that make sense. That being said, I do not speak Spanish, so finding colloquialisms and making them feel organic can be hard.

First fandom you wrote in?

Published? Lonestar

Unpublished? There's an unholy Smallville story that will never see the light of day. And, a Merlin fic that I co-wrote and falls apart about halfway through.

Favorite fic you've written?

Stealing Nina's idea and doing one in each of my main fandoms I've written in because it's hard to pick (even then this was rough).

Oh, don't make me pick. Okay. I love Knave2, I think it's the best thing I've written. But, I love some of the early fic I wrote that are less plot based and more almost character studies, like stitched with it's color and through sames of am through haves of give

hmm, tagging @freneticfloetry, @bonheur-cafe, @paperstorm and @heartstringsduet

[queerofthedagger]

Got any Merlin fic recs? Any pairing will do!

Yesss absolutely do I have recs!! Imma list you a couple of my all-time favourite fics, but you can also check my fic rec tag, or my ao3 bookmark recs for merlin for more (or send me another ask, I should do more recs anyway tbqh!)

For all listed authors I can say with certainty that all their fics are absolute bangers so that's also a good place to look for more. I tried to keep the recs on the shorter side, but if you (or anyone really) wants more recs, feel free to hit me up with more specifics too!! (It might just take me a while sometimes…) Hope there's something in here for you <3

---

World Enough and Time by alicephantomwise [Merthur | 18k | E | ccntuaw]

Tags: Modern AU | Spies & Assassins | Violence | Angst with a Happy Ending | Pining Arthur | Not Actually Unrequited Love | World Travel

Summary:

Arthur had had it all figured out. And then Merlin shot him in Beijing.

Notes: This is my all-time favourite Merlin fic, which is saying something because I'm usually more of a canon-era girlie. It rewired my entire brain chemistry though and I don't think there is any piece of literature that I've re-read as many times as this goddamn fic. Just. jesus fucking christ

---

The King and His Sorcerer by alicephantomwise [Merthur | 1,5k | G/A | MCD]

Tags: Canon Era | Angst | Prose | Epistolary | Ambigous/Hopeful Ending

Summary:

But lest you forget, this is not a fairytale.

Notes: Same author. I would pay all my money, my first born, and probably half my family for them to return to fandom, I'm not joking. Just something about their writing that completely eviscerates me.

---

Onfidan by astolat [Merthur | 15k | M | no warnings]

Tags: Canon Era | Magic Revealed | Battle Couple | Monsters and Mythical Beings | Merlin's magic loves Arthur

Summary:

Arthur didn't speak to him for a week after he found out.

Notes: Look, if anyone ever was a classic for a reason, it's astolat, no contest. All her fics are absolute bangers, obviously, but I have just such a soft spot for Merlin & Arthur hunting monsters and fighting side by side, and this one simply delivers on all fronts no matter how often you read it.

---

Tintagel by seperis [Merthur, Ygraine/Nimueh | 20k | E | ccntuaw]

Tags: mental coercion | magic reveal

Summary:

They would pay any price that was asked, Nimueh whispered at the end, trembling with exhaustion, desperate, pleading, anything, anything at all. Just give her this child. Give her the son he stole from her.

Notes: This fic is single-handedly responsible for all of my absolute unwellness over Ygraine, and if you've been here for a while you know that that's a lot. Seperis is generally an absolute gem of an author though, and I can't rec all of their stuff enough!!

---

Winning the Battle by @prattery [Merthur | 5,5k | T+ | no warnings]

Tags: Canon Era | Arthur Pendragon Lives | Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day | Arthur knows about merlin's magic | angst with a happy ending

Summary:

This husk of a man wears Merlin’s face and has Merlin’s magic, but he’s not Merlin. Merlin’s gone. Albion has claimed him as the price for Arthur’s victory at the battlefield.

Notes: This fic fundamentally changed me as a person, like, woah. I don't know what to say about this except, I love angst, from the bottom of my heart, but I've had the sequel on my tbr for over a year and I am, hands-down, terrified of it. It has a happy ending!! But christ, the angst. Her writing in general is an absolute gift which is not at all why I jumped at the first chance to bother her about it lmao, so like, recs for all of her stuff - 100/10 would recommend, just bring some tissues.

---

this graveyard of forgotten love by @atlantablack [Morgwen | M | 11,8k | ccntuaw]

Tags: The Dark Tower AU | BAMF Gwen | Unhealthy Relationships | Gwen has Magic | Unreliable Narrator | Angst with a Hopeful Ending

Summary:

Gwen has never fully managed to shake her love for the lady who had once sworn to keep her safe. Now locked in a tower by that same lady, she must face a truth she's long kept buried (even from herself). An exploration of grief, anger, and the inability to let go of someone you once loved (even when you should).

Notes: If you want some stellar morgwen angst, atlanta's fics are the way to go; she single-handedly dragged me into the pairing, and I've been stuck here ever since, much to her joy and regret, so !! Also morgwen aside, if you like your Gwen with some goddamn agency, she got you <3

---

Deluge by Suaine [Merthur | 50k | M | no warnings]

Tags: Canon Era | Post-Season 1 | Magic Revealed | Arthur knows about Merlin's magic | Quests & Curses | Coup

Summary:

In the aftermath of Merlin's battle against Nimueh, the rain seems a minor complication, perhaps even a cleansing influence. When the rain doesn't stop, Camelot is pushed to the brink once more. This time, Arthur may be in over his head. Contains: a lot of wet boys in emotional scenes, Arthur knowing more than he lets on, Merlin being an idiot, both of them being a bit stupidly heroic, telepathic chess, rain (lots of), war, making out against a tree, coincidental druids, co-opted history, co-opted myths, magic, coming of age (metaphorically), and more magically annoying yet surprisingly un-floody water than you can shake a stick at.

Notes: This is such an insanely good, insanely underrated fic! The vibe of it is just really specific in a way I can't really explain, the plot is super unique and intriguing, and the writing is an absolute gem. Also I'm just a sucker for a good characterization of Arthur and ohhh boy does this one deliver.

---

Tiercel by waldorph [Merthur | 6k | Mature | ccntuaw]

Tags: Canon Era | Magic Revealed | First Time | Myth & Legends

Summary:

Arthur is constantly at war.

Notes: This is one of the most stunning pieces of writing I've come across in A While honestly, and I love love love how it kind of makes the show feel like a legend - I don't know if that makes sense tbh, but like, I think it does once you read it. Just, absolutely insane story-telling tbh.

---

Right Back Where I Began by giselleslash [Merthur | 4k | M | Underage (both characters)]

Tags: Childhood Friends | Friends with Benefits | Oblivious!Merlin | Pining!Arthur | Merlin/Others | Arthur/Others | Fluff

Summary:

Arthur and Merlin are friends, and each others go to for the in between times, but maybe they were together all along.

Notes: The only other modern au on this list, but SO deserved - I love tropes that get flipped a bit, so oblivious!Merlin is already a win in my book, but then there's just... I don't want to give away too much, but there is something so damn special about the resolution of this fic, it makes me want to cry every single time. Like. god. the love, it's all about the unconditional love, at the end of the day! mwah!!!

---

Good to Eat a Thousand Years by ghosttopiary [Merthur | 2,5k | M | ccntuaw]

Tags: Canon Era | Tenderness | Getting Together | Vignette

Summary:

He kisses his lover on the nape of his neck and thinks this is why men go to war. A shameful thought.

Notes: This is also pretty short, but on god this fic does something to me every time I read it, the vibe of it is just so specific and absolutely breath-taking.

[tansyuduri]

Twenty Questions for Fanfic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Thirty so far! 12 are Merlin and that is my only fandom I am writing for atm the rest are for dragon age and are from years ago.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I have 282,018 published

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Merlin!!! There is one Dragon Age fic I might eventually finish, but Merlin for the foreseeable future.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Okay here they all are from the last year in the merlin fandom!!!

Fever Talk | Kudos: 527 | I have two kinds of fic, Hurt/comfort/whump somtimes with plot and plot focused noevel lengrth new adventures. This is one of the former and the first in an au I have for prompts of this kind!

Treat Me Warmly | Kudos: 289 | This is the first in ANOTHER Au word I have (hurt/comfort/whump style) It was for a merlin tarrot card fest and started me tradition of commissioning tarrot card based pictures or the ones in this series.

Merlin, Enchanted| Kudos: 236 | Ever see a post on tumblr and be like I"M WRITING THIS? thats what happened here!

Better Than Burning | Kudos: 233| I just posted this one most recently It was due to a former beta currant alpha requesting somthing and me having a bingo scuare I was thinking about.

Unthinkable | Kudos: 207 | This was from bingo Square prompts!

The next one after this would be one of my long fics XD

5. Do you respond to comments?

Every single one. I love comments

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm almost always a happy ending girl. But I wrote this. it takes place in the same world as my Arthur returns fics

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhh Hmmm I'd say problubly the one I plan to start posting in decemeber but other than that Uhhhh POSSABLY treat me warmly? or fever talk? IDEK It could be. We are bruised but whole together? or Our stars still shine together

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got this one reader who hated on Gwen and believed Merlin deserved better in my Arthur returns fics because Arthur still mourning Gwen OBVIOUSLY Meant he would choose Gwen Over Merlin if given the choice. Which is not the case.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

There are Smut scenes in my Arthur returns fics and in treat me warmly fo far. I think I did okay and I got a lot better after having a gay beta who was like "you know that would hurt right, they have to do this first!" Basically, I'm borderline Aroace (And more ace then aro even) but decided when I started writing that my Merlin and Arthur would not be. Still, I've only included explicit sex scenes in long fics or if asked by someone requesting!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I would be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

merlin enchanted was me ficizing someone's pretty detailed tumblr post

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Merthur. <3

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't really have one? One of my fics int he dragon age fandom I MIGHT eventualy finish. I will possably get to it eventually? OH I started writing about Gwen's reign after Arthur was gone. It doesnt even have a chapter published but I doubt I will ever finish it

16. What are your writing strengths?

Uh, I'm pretty good at getting inside character's heads and dialogue. I like to think I am good at keeping cannon characters IC

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

DESCRIPTION OF ANYTHING PHYSICAL. Like casual elements of it. Body language the like!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I perfer when there are translations or its oblvious

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Uh LOTR when I was in elementary school? I wrote a parody.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Our stars still shine together! It was my first Merlin fic and the fic that made me realize I could write again after major health issues!!!

Lemme see who I can find:

@calamity-talvi @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile @kadenemrys @thedaselcor @aeonthedimensionalgirl

@mudtwist @katherynefromphilly @poisonedfate @shanastoryteller @247merthur

AND OF COURSE EVERYONE ELSE Who wants to!

[emryses]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you @postmodernau & @queerofthedagger for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

35. what the hell lmao

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

379,505. again. what the hell!!!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

at this point i would say the main one is stranger things. i tend to only be able to successfully write for one fandom at a time apparently lol. but i imagine i'll dip my toes back into merlin one day.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you looking at me, looking at you (steddie) / run your fingers through my hair (steddie) / eat me alive (steddie) / when the party's over (gallavich!!) / you want it straight from the heart (steddie)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do! most or try my best to. often in the first week-ish after posting something, and i do sincerely try to respond to every comment but i've fallen behind on that a lot recently.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

this is a hard question to answer because i literally have thrived off of angst, specifically in the merlin fandom, for many years. i think i'll say winter always turns to spring which is a canon compliant merlin/will fic i wrote that has a tinge of....unrequited feelings, which is probably what bumps it up into the most sad.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

is it bad that i don't write a lot of "traditional" happy endings? i kind of make them work to get there lol. bittersweet my beloved. i would say my hairdresser steve au is the most lighthearted thing i've written with a happy ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really! i've gotten the occasional weird ass comment that i'm sure the commenter THOUGHT was "kind" but i've kind of side-eyed.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do! i don't think i'm very good at it & it takes me ages when i do. i guess all kinds??? love it when they're pathetic and desperate iykwim.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not often, but i have a steddie btvs au i am slowly percolating on.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of! but i doubt it, even then lol.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! there was a merlin translation fest a while back, and my merwill fic, winter always turns to spring was translated into portuguese!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no..........but mona & i have been percolating some thoughts..............................................monaaaaaaa.........is this a sign................?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

this is such a hard question !!! i think i have to say at this moment in time it's steddie. they truly just scratch all the shippy itches for me. honourable mention tho to merthur, who have had my soul in some way or another for 10+ years.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have this shameless canon divergence fic. the summary i wrote describes it best: "When Ian was 3, his birth father Clayton Gallagher and his wife Lucy were granted full custody, ripping Ian away from the only family he had ever known. Fifteen years later, Ian has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and is looking for answers. Here, he reconnects with Fiona and Lip, his brother and sister who watched him be taken. Ian also meets his brother’s friend, Mickey, who conveniently is the guy Ian has been meeting in bars and dark alleys for the past few weeks."

part of me wishes i could go back and finish it, but i haven't written for gallavich in so long & i have so many other fics for other fandoms i'm more inclined to finish first. i guess never say never, but i also don't know when the time for it would be. alas.

16. What are your writing strengths?

how dare anyone make me talk positively about myself....sigh. ok. i think i'm good at character tone/voice. the way characters speak has always come pretty easily to me, and so i'm often most proud of my dialogue. i think it's why a lot of my fics often are dialogue heavy & have people working out problems together.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

does my own brain count? i feel like i can be repetitive in my descriptors of things. everything is "says softly" or "he smiles" or "he laughs" etc. my brain tells me every single goddamn sentence has to be Unique or something, and then i get in my head about Everything. it's the worst !!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i haven't ever done it! not sure how i would go about it tbh! i don't speak any other languages other than english, so i would be hesitant to put any other language in a fic of mine because i would have to rely on google translate or something.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

HMMM. if i'm really honest, probably peter pan when i was like. 10. then it was icarly LMAO. all on ff.net babeyyyy

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

hands down, fields of gold. i consider it to be my merlin magnum opus of sorts, my eternal love letter to the show. i took 2 years to write it, and genuinely no joke some of the aspects/themes of that fic date back to headcanons/meta i wrote in 2012. so. i poured a lot of my heart into that fic, and i hope it shows.

zero pressure tags: @stargyles/@pushrope, @mojowitchcraft, @magicinavalon, @stevespookington, @lady-lostmind, @thefreakandthehair, @snapshotmaestro, @glaftwlet, @andonandon & truly anyone who sees this and wants to answer these questions. tag me!!! i am nosy and love stuff like this lol.

[xviruserrorx]

Title: "Would We Be Caught Dead Here?"

I am oh so very late and I know I didn't do the interest check but I wanted to do the @elyan-fest so here is Day 1's for the prompt "Stop, coming back". Also 1. This fic seems really weird to me, I don't know what it is, I like the fic I really do, but there's something weird about it. And 2. From the get-go this was supposed to be Elyan/Merlin, like the situation, the image it was all merlyan... And then I wrote the dialogue and it was very much the way I normally write Mordred—but not they way I normally write Mordred's dynamic with Elyan though—but, but the situation, the actions are very Merlin (to me) but the dialogue is too much not-Merlin (how I normally write him) for me. And I can see Mordred doing the actions under a situation (the situation being this weird au). Okay... Yeah there's my weird dilema. This fic wrote itself, truly, it's not even the ship I originally wanted it to be which has never happened to me before. Anyways Enjoy! 😁

Elyan Fest - Tumblr | Ao3 - [-> Next]

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Prompt(s): "Stop, Coming Back"

Relationship(s): Elyan/Mordred

Character(s): Sir Elyan, Mordred

Important Tag(s): Canon Divergence, Post-magic reveal, Magic Reveal Gone Wrong

Rating: Gen

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply, Mention of Blood and Death, Manhandling (kinda sorta)

Word Count: 1,659

“I'm risking it all just for you.” Elyan felt a shiver run down his body. Mordred's hand found his and he lifted the other to brush his fingers on his jaw. “I'm risking my capture just to say I love you,” Or After a long day Elyan returns to his chambers to find an unexpected person in wait for him.

Continue reading below or over on Ao3

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Elyan rolled his shoulders. His chainmail grew heavier with every move that even the weight of his cape seemed to make things worse. 

He swatted his arm back, grabbing the feet of cloth from dragging behind him. All need for his appearance dropped. The halls were empty, only the sound of his shoes against the floor filled the silence of the night. His normal company of one of the other knights had faded slowly but surely over the months. Though, he could say that for many things of the Camelot that he knew.

Camelot's once strict laws against magic somehow had grown worse in such little time. The leniency of the death penalty for those with or through any association of magic was all but gone.

Gallows were built more often, the executioner consulted more often, and the smell of burning flesh had little remedy to remove the after trace it left on his clothes, skin, and the air of Camelot as a whole.

The king was no longer the king he had promised to protect and serve. It'd been far too long since he had seen his sister's smile. The one he'd once teased her about; love and everything more for what she held for Arthur. He'd hardly seen them glance each other's way in weeks.

Missions that before had them picking on one another were nothing the same. Gwaine had little energy to display his usual charm; he was Camelot's best swordsman after all. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked to Percival, more so even heard the other knight say anything. But perhaps it was Leon he saw take it all the hardest. Comparing Camelot's records to when Uther reigned, none of them could have ever imagined those records matching, even surpassing the older ones.

They had been happier once at the peak of war.

Instead they were sent on tasks—hunt after hunt. It was nothing more than the king using them as a hawk as they brought innocent people one after another to his feet.

All of them hesitated just the same to continue to perform each task they were ordered. Elyan knew it was out of fear. Fear none of them possessed before everything happened, as if everything was the proper word to cover it all. 

Elyan let out a sigh of relief as he reached his room, his hand coming to undo his cape buckle around his neck. He yanked the leather free and felt the chill of the night come over him as he closed the door, the all too familiar presence partnered to close.

He'd done this before. Too many times before.

He pressed his eyes and edged the exhaustion further. “We can't keep doing this.” He turned around and tossed his cape to the side. 

His window was wide open as he had suspected. The figure he knew too well was sitting on the window ledge; legs crossed, hands gripping the sill, cloaked over in moonlight and yet still completely hidden in darkness. As if Elyan didn't know all of him to recognize him with much less.

He let out a scoff. “And you know it too, Mordred.”

Gold lit in the dark, a rush of something he only could find desirable from him as flames erupted at the wicks of the candles.

Elyan felt some of the day's tension fall away. Even though It felt wrong to find such comfort in something he imprisoned day after day.

The soft glow from the candles lit Mordred's face as he stood up. He removed the black hood from over his head and let the light take over him. An expression of something somber yet unreadable was all he showed to him. 

Mordred walked closer, his finger tracing down the exposed blade that laid on the table in his room. Elyan hadn't found the strength to properly clean it off since that morning, just the dried remnants of what they both knew, left there to be.

“Patrol has tightened,” he spoke. “More guards, more knights.”

Elyan nodded. “The king has things… different.”

His finger traced the bottom of the hilt where the name of his sword was branded. “Not different enough.” He pulled away, his cloak catching in a gust of wind through the window.

“I suppose not.” Elyan walked over, grabbing the empty scabbard from the other end of the table. “Still holes in our defense?”

Mordred cocked his head. “If you know where to find them.”

He sheathed his sword, placing it back on the rack with the rest of the weapons. Mordred watched.

“And how to make them,” Mordred continued.

Elyan stopped. He eased his shoulders to relax and to turn back towards Mordred. “Why are you here?”

He stood there, something mocking humor played at his lips. “You know why,” he said. He turned on his heal, looking around his room. “I've heard things have gotten worse around here since…”

That unspeakable incident. Perhaps they both wished it was all just some nightmare they were trapped in together.

“They have.”

“And Merlin?” he asked.

Elyan moved, following behind him. “He's been adjusting.” It wasn't a lie. It was all he knew. It was all both the king and queen had said about Merlin since they'd last seen him all those months ago.

Mordred scoffed. “The king's closest friend swears off magic. Sounds too familiar.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Did Morgana tell you that?”

He turned to face him. He shook his head. “Morgana’s still in Ismere, has been for a fortnight. Didn't want to go.” He glanced down at his feet. “I've been with my people.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

Mordred all but rolled his eyes then loosened the laces of his cloak. His robes and talisman around his neck all the proof he needed.

“You didn't tell me that.”

He raised an eyebrow, sarcasm dancing across his face as he pulled his cloak back around. “Because you think me a murderer.” He fumbled with his laces.

Elyan closed the distance and nudged Mordred's hands away and took over. “I think, from what I've heard, you possess very powerful magic, Mordred. Magic you can use to protect yourself.” He pulled the laces into a knot.

“Protect. Kill. Defend,” Mordred said. “It's no use when you see it all the same.”

Elyan took a breath and dropped his hands to Mordred's shoulders, straightening out his cloak and fixing his talisman. “Not me.” He let them fall back to his side.

Mordred smiled. “Not you,” He emphasized

Elyan knew at the end of the day they would have Mordred killed, no matter if there was blood on his hands or not. History or not, he knew perhaps that might have made him all the more wanted for Camelot's gallows.

“I know you know.” Mordred stepped closer. “And you know too, but…” He tilted his head to the side, their noses brushed one another's. “I'm risking it all just for you.”

Elyan felt a shiver run down his body. Mordred's hand found his and he lifted the other to brush his fingers on his jaw.

“I'm risking my capture just to say I love you,” he continued.

Elyan turned his head away but felt that gentle touch deepen and pull his head back forward.

“And you're risking just the same.”

He swatted his hand away and grabbed Mordred's wrist in the same strike. Watching that facade of bravery crumble underneath his touch as Mordred's expression twisted. Pain infiltrated in the cracks, leaving the same scared boy who had fled Camelot months back right in front of him.

“I have a chance,” he spoke through his teeth. “You don't.”

Mordred twisted his hand but he only tightened his hold. It would bruise. They both knew it. The longer Elyan held and the more Mordred moved and struggled guaranteed it.

“Stop coming back,” he continued.

Mordred cocked an eyebrow, teasing him with that feigned innocent look that turned mischievous all too quickly. “If that's what you want.”

“It is.”

He held his gaze. Neither of them wanting to give in till Mordred lowered his head and looked away. “Fine.” He yanked his arm free as Elyan loosened his grip.

Elyan breathed out, staying in place as Mordred turned around back towards the window. Until he stopped.

“What?”

Mordred turned around. “You and I both know that if you really didn't like this—me coming here night after night. You would've told the queen or king already.”

“I wouldn't do that to you.”

He lightly chuckled, a grin forming on his face. “You wouldn't,” he agreed. “Keep your space. Keep me safe, keep you safe. Is that not it?” He took a step back.

Elyan shook his head. “Our love isn't worth your torture.”

He smiled, something of hope there too. “Isn't it?”

Elyan swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat. “Go. Camelot isn't safe for you anymore.”

He gave him a pitiful smile. “Was it ever?” Mordred continued to walk backwards.

Elyan looked down, seeing how close he was to the open window. “Mordred?”

The back of his knees hit the ledge. That smile changed. “I'll just risk it again.”

He watched as Mordred leaned back his weight and fell out the window.

“Mordred!” He lunged forward, scrambling to grab the ends of his cloak but was too late. He stuck his head out the window, exhaustion no longer a thought as he looked at the drop to the ground.

No Mordred. No body. No cloak. He looked up. The cloaked figure that was in his chamber was walking away. 

Mordred turned around, still walking and looked up at him. He smiled one of his all too fleeting grins before he pulled the hood forward and turned back around.

Elyan watched as his cloaked figure walked on and disappeared without a sound on Camelot's grounds.

[librathefangirl]

Help Me Brother, for I Am Falling

ao3 (1k+; One-Shot)

(Modern All-Human AU) He shouldn’t do this. Worst Big Brother Award right here. The last thing he wanted to do was risk dragging his baby brother back into this mess. He just didn’t have anywhere else to go – and by some miracle, Zeldris opened the door. “Yo, Zel. Been a while,” Meliodas mumbled, trying to smile as he leaned heavily against the wall. His vision blurred slightly around the edges. Oh, that probably wasn’t good. Zeldris’ eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you- You’re bleeding.” Febuwhump 2023 Day 10 (Alt. 3): Soft Words.

Warnings: Past/Referenced Child Abuse, Blood and Injury.

Also written for the prompt: "Next time, call someone else for help." "Love you too, X!" (by @whump-galaxy)

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

When it came down to it, Meliodas didn’t want to come here. He just didn’t know where else to go.

He couldn’t involve the others. Not with this. This was too close to home and all the things he wanted to keep hidden – he needed to keep them safe from. He couldn’t risk. Even if Merlin still was an option. She did know about his dad and, well, everything. That didn’t mean he wanted her involved though. Besides, as far as he knew she had locked herself in her basement with yet another experiment. He’d probably bleed out before he managed to get her to the door. He wasn’t too keen on chancing it with the hospital either. That was way too much vulnerability for what little trust he was willing to grant Galand.

Which left…Zeldris.

He shouldn’t do this. Worst Big Brother Award right here. The last thing he wanted to do was risk dragging his baby brother back into this mess. He just didn’t have anywhere else to go – and by some miracle, Zeldris opened the door.

“Yo, Zel. Been a while,” Meliodas mumbled, trying to smile as he leaned heavily against the wall. His vision blurred slightly around the edges. Oh, that probably wasn’t good.

Zeldris’ eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you- You’re bleeding.”

“Mm-yeah. Ruined my shoes.”

Zeldris stared at him like he was crazy. His gaze flickered from Meliodas’ face to his bleeding side to his splotched shoes and back up to his face again.

“Why are you here, Meliodas?”

Meliodas tried not to flinch at strictness of his tone and the insistent use of his name and nothing else that Zeldris still clung to years after he had first stopped calling him brother. It was fair. Meliodas didn’t have any right to expect him to treat him as family after all that happened. He wasn’t about to deny his brother his anger. He just hoped he had a little bit of mercy left for him.

“I-… I need your help.”

Zeldris crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw was almost painfully clenched – even to Meliodas’ muddled mind. He glanced down at Meliodas’ side again. How much blood had he lost now? Meliodas wasn’t sure. Thinking was a lot harder than it was supposed to be. His hand was slick with it, that he knew at least. He kept having to reposition it against the wound.

“Why me?” Zeldris eventually asked. Meliodas couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, his gaze fell to Zeldris’ bare feet. He was digging his toes into the carpet. Oh, he was anxious. As a kid, Zeldris would always step back and forth, his feet always fiddling, when he didn’t like the situation. To Meliodas, it had been a sign to reach out and steady him. Now, he didn’t know how to do that.

“I didn’t know where to go,” Meliodas admitted.

“And you thought this was the place?”

Zeldris was right. Here Meliodas was, ruining his baby brother’s life again. Except this time, it was a life he had made for himself. All on his own. Piece by little piece. Meliodas shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.

“’m sorry,” Meliodas mumbled. When he pushed away from the wall, the entire room spun around him. The floor threatened to jump and slap him. Still Meliodas managed to take a few staggering steps towards the elevator. He didn’t get far though.

“Stop.” Zeldris grabbed hold of his arm. His skin felt warm against Meliodas’ – or was it Meliodas’ that was cold? When Meliodas turned to look at him, Zeldris’ blurry face wasn’t meeting his. He was looking somewhere over his shoulder. “You’re bleeding all over the hallway.”

Oh… He wasn’t wrong.

“You won’t make it to the hospital like this.”

Meliodas shrugged, almost toppling over with the action, “wasn’t goin’ to a ‘ospital.”

“Oh, good. You were just planning on dying in my elevator like an idiot then.”

Meliodas wanted to say something to that. He really did. But it took all his energy to not fall over as Zeldris guided him into his apartment. Black dots danced across his vision.

“Sorry,” he murmured one last time before the darkness took over. The last thing he heard was Zeldris letting out a loud curse.

-X-

Meliodas wasn’t sure how long he had been out for. When he woke up, he was surrounded by warmth. It was such a strange thought; family and warmth didn’t go together. Not in his family. Maybe once, he and Zeldris had shared it – but it had been years since that.

“Come on, Meliodas,” Zeldris’ voice said to his side. It was a quiet whisper, a lot softer than what Meliodas’ was used to from his grumpy baby brother. “Open your eyes, please.”

Meliodas wanted to. Especially at the waver in Zeldris’ voice. He just couldn’t get his body to move. God, everything hurt.

“I-…” Zeldris broke off. Meliodas could feel something brush briefly against his hand. Zeldris drew a shaky breath. “I can’t watch my big brother die.”

Oh…

“Ze-ngh.” Okay, not as eloquent as he aimed for.

Slowly, Meliodas managed to blink his eyes open. Zeldris stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. His hand was resting right beside Meliodas’ on the bed. Bed? Oh. He was lying in Zeldris’ bed, a soft blanket covering him and his brother sitting on a chair next to him.

“You’re awake.”

Meliodas cleared his throat, trying for a smile, “Don’t sound too disappointed.”

Zeldris bristled at that. As he diverted his gaze, Meliodas took the time to take the situation in. There was a big first aid kit and some supplies covering the bedside table. The blood was gone from Meliodas’ hand. His side was also very clearly not bleeding anymore. When Meliodas touched it, his fingers met smooth bandages.

“Don’t touch that,” Zeldris sighed. “You’re going to rip your stitches.”

“Stitches?” Meliodas echoed.

“Yes. Stitches.” Zeldris turned back to him, meeting his gaze. He looked wrecked. Meliodas had fainted to Zeldris in soft over-sized clothes and hair looking like he just woke up. Now Zeldris looked like he hadn’t slept for days. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all the wrong directions, and his eyes were red. Had Zeldris… been crying?

“You stitched me up?”

“What, you thought I’d just let you bleed out?” Zeldris looked away again. Meliodas swallowed around the emotions welling up in his throat.

“No, I just…”

“Whatever,” Zeldris mumbled, shoulders tense. “I don’t have time to deal with your dead body.”

But he did have time to sit by Meliodas beside for who knew how long.

“Thanks, Zel.”

Silence fell over them as Zeldris kept staring at the wall. Once again, Meliodas felt helpless at his brother’s pain. Moments passed before Zeldris spoke up again.

“I thought you were done with him. I mean, you left and… and-”

Zeldris trailed off and Meliodas felt his heart break. If he could do it all over, he’d do it all so different. At least where his baby brother was concerned. How would things have turned out – how would they have turned out if he just…

“Why would you go back now?”

“I haven’t!” Meliodas cried out. Was that really what Zeldris thought of him?

“So, you just get stabbed for fun?”

“No, I…” Meliodas sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t. I didn’t want to do this, but… He threatened my friends, Zel! I just… How could I drag them into that?”

Zeldris didn’t say anything, but Meliodas knew that, at the very least, Zeldris understood that. He too had to have people he wanted keep safe. Someone he wanted to not let their father ruin.

“That’s why I made a deal with Galand.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“No, of course not, but I had no choice,” Meliodas sighed again. “Galand is a man of his word. I did this, to stay out of it. I have no intention of ever going back to him.”

Zeldris nodded and Meliodas leaned back against the pillows, feeling the energy drain. He was exhausted. Zeldris somehow looked worse. Meliodas reached out, brushing a few fingers over Zeldris hand.

“I, uh, I need to get to work.” Zeldris cleared his throat, standing up. “You can stay here- Actually, you need to stay here. I’m not stitching you up again. You can borrow some clothes from the closet if you want and, well, there’s some leftovers in the fridge. So, you know…”

“Thanks…”

Zeldris walked to the bedroom door. With a hand on the doorknob, he paused, “Hey, Meliodas.”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, call someone else for help.”

A smile pulled at Meliodas’ lips.

“Love you too, Zel!”

[frost-queen]

When hiding crosses bridges (Child!Reader & House of the dragon)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are playing hide and seek with your father, mother and brothers Luke and Jace when you wander into the greens side by chance. Once joined by your cousins and Queen Alicent, there is a cute fluffy moment where Aegon is a bit hesitant to join in, but eventually does. < part 2 >

Daemon turned round, moving his arm up over his eyes. – “One.” – he started counting making you laugh. – “Two… three…” – he continued. Rhaenyra and Jace already taking a run for it. You kept laughing, bouncing in excitement. Daemon chuckled underneath his breath. – “Y/n my darling, I can still hear you.” – he said without looking once. – “Y/n!” – Luke called out, running over to you. He took you by the hand, pulling you gently with him. – “Come little sister, we must hide.” – he told you.

“What about father?” – you asked curiously, pointing back at him while your brother pulled you away. Luke briefly looked up to the ceiling, wondering how you still weren’t getting the rules of this game. – “Father is the one who needs to be looking for us Y/n.” – he explained. You nodded following your brother round the corner. – “So I have to hide from father?” – you asked him to be certain. Luke hummed loud, quickening his pace.

He took another turn and another. He sighed relieved seeing a good place to hide. He hastened over to it, ready to grab the curtain when his hold got blocked. By his side Jace. – “What are you doing?” – Jace shout-whispered to keep his voice low. – “I’m hiding, what are you doing?” – Luke questioned pulling hard on the curtain. – “I saw it first! It is my hiding spot.” – he insisted on, pulling the curtain more towards him.

“No I saw it first!” – Luke insisted on, giving his brother a hard nudge. Jace clenched his jaw, nudging his brother back. – “Au!” – Luke said, giving his brother a good glare. – “Go hide somewhere else!” – Jace pressured on with a firm glare. – “No!” – Luke held his foot down. – “I’m the oldest!” – Jace made clear, sure to keep his voice down but powerful enough. Luke scoffed. – “That is no excuse.” – he replied giving him a slight push.

You watched the entire bickering, waiting patiently. You softly started humming a tune, wobbling on your feet. It made your brother end their bickering to look over their shoulders to you. – “You are supposed to be hiding Y/n.” – Jace spoke turning more towards you. – “I am…” – you responded sweetly. – “I’m going to hide with Luke.” – you added. Luke sighed loud, moving away from the corner. He knelt down to your height, taking you by the arm.

“You can’t hide with me Y/n.” – he said. – “Why not?” – you asked tilting your head a bit. Jace came joining in, kneeling beside his brother. – “You have to find a hiding place for your own.” – he held you by your other hand, making his words clear with his eyes. – “Oh…” – you replied saddened, looking down. – “That is the game Y/n.” – Jace said getting back up. Luke exhaled deep, getting up as well.

From around a corner came your mother out of breath. – “What are you all standing here, your father is coming!” – she warned panicky. Luke and Jace’s eyes widened ushering them to move. They almost bumped against each other in the rush to hide. Rhaenyra lifted the hem of her dress up, taking a further run for it. You turned round, leaving. Jace grabbed Luke by his arm to move him out of his way. It was then that he looked worriedly down.

“Where is Y/n?” – he said aloud. Luke looked down for himself, eyes widening. – “Hiding I hope.” – he answered, slowly feeling a bit guilty of telling you off. Jace came to a realization, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. – “What if she gets lost in this big castle?” – he said worriedly. Luke swallowed ashamed. What if you did? You were but a child. It would be easy for you to get lost.

Both of them were overcome with worry and shame. Maybe they should’ve gone in hiding with you. Hearing their father’s voice in the background, made them panic. Jace pushed Luke aside, taking a run for it. Luke running in the opposite direction in the hopes of being able to find a hiding place before his father finds him.

You were running as fast as your little legs could carry you. Jace had said you needed to hide by yourself, so that is what you were going to do. Find a hiding spot so father wouldn’t be able to find you. Some ladies shrieked when you rushed past them. Soldiers darted away when you came chasing down the corridors. – “Princess!” – one of the guards called out in an attempt to slow you down. You ignored them, keeping your pace up.

You were hardly looking for a hiding spot as you just kept running. The game not entirely clear. You noticed a sudden change in guards. Their uniforms different then the one’s you were known to. Not really stopping to wonder why, you kept going. Laughing mischievous that you were hiding away from father. Would he have already found someone? Your mother? Brothers perhaps?

“Hey what are you doing here?” – you suddenly heard making you come to a stop. You felt scared when the guard came nearer, hands ready as if he was about to catch you. – “You’re not supposed to be here.” – he said. You panicked, screaming loud as you escaped under his arms just as he was about to grab at you. – “Hey! Come back here!” – he shouted turning around to go after you.

Calling it out, you hurried not wanting to be caught. The guard scared you. He called in a few fellow guards to join him on the chase. – “Stand still!” – one of them ordered. – “Get back here!” – another one warned you. Covering up your ears, you screamed loud in a panic. Heart thumping loudly against your chest. You nearly tripped as the storm of guards came closer.

Tears swelled up as they rolled down your cheeks. How much you wanted to be in hiding with any of your brothers now. Sniffing loud, your breath shuddered. There seemed to be no escaping them as you rushed into a room. Just any room. You had opened the door and busted inside, not caring what kind of room it was. Out of breath, you were panting against the heavy door.

“Y/n?” – your eyes widened seeing Queen Alicent slowly rise from her chair, holding a piece of parchment. Near her turned her two sons Aegon and Aemond around to you. – “What are you doing here?” – Alicent asked kindly. You firmly wiped your tears away. Aemond batting his eye down. Alicent softened her expression, coming nearer. – “What is it little Y/n?” – she asked coming up to you where she knelt down.

At the sight of her, you started crying more. Alicent brushing her fingers through your hair to sooth you. – “What happened Y/n?” – she asked. Aegon puffed loudly, crossing his arms. Aemond shot him a glare for acting like this. Your lip trembled. – “Did you get lost?” – Alicent said as you nodded with more tears streaming down your face. Alicent clicked her tongue softly, moving you closer to her for an embrace.

“We were playing hide and seek.” – you told her with a loud shudder. – “Hide and seek?” – Aemond repeated intrigued, coming closer. You nodded as Alicent wiped some tears away. – “That sounds fun.” – she addressed. You nodded again. – “I wasn’t allowed to hide with Luke.” – you told them. Aemond came kneeling beside his mother, holding a hand out to you. – “Did he now little cousin.”

 “That is the game!” – Aegon pitched in from afar. Aemond batted his eye briefly up to the ceiling in despair. – “If I were Luke, I would’ve allowed you to hide with me.” – he said making you smile a bit. – “Would you cousin?” – you replied seeing him nod with a loud hum. You gasped loud, jumping into Aemond’s arms when there was a loud knock on the door. Alicent rose as the door entered. A guard popped his head inside. – “Yes?” – Alicent asked quirking her eyebrow up.

The guard’s eyes fell upon you. – “Good, you found her.” – he said making Alicent look down at you. – “This kid’s been wandering at the wrong side of the castle. I’ll get her out of here, your grace.” – he said with a bow. Alicent saw how you pressed yourself closer to Aemond, clearly frightened by the guard. – “Tell me.” -Alicent spoke, holding her chin up. – “Have you been chasing Rhaenyra’s daughter all around this area?” – the guard wasn’t sure what the meaning of her question was but nodded anyway.

Alicent smiled sarcastically to the guard. – “You may go!” – she insisted on. – “But the child.” – the guard begged. Alicent moved her hand up to silence him. – “Leave!” – she made clear. The guard bowed his head, taking his leave. Alicent took a deep breath, composing herself. – “Apologies Y/n. I hope the guards haven’t scared you too much?”

“I…I didn’t mean to wander off.” – you told her as Aemond was still holding you. – “I was just looking for a place to hide from father.” – Alicent shushed you taking your hand. – “All is well Y/n.” – she said. Aemond got back up, following his mother. – “You can stay here if you like, hide from your father.” – she turned round to wink at you. That made you laugh giddy. Aemond picked you up, setting you on the bed. You started jumping on the bed as Aemond tickled you. It made you squirm and come to a stop.

He kept tickling you till you fell back onto the matrass. You felt a pillow underneath you, pulling it away. Aemond looked stunned when you had thrown a pillow at him. Aegon snorting loud. Aemond turned round bothered to his brother. Aegon held his tongue, trying to keep a straight face. Aemond grabbed the pillow, throwing it towards his brother. Aegon ducked down as the pillow hit an oblivious Alicent. You laughed loud as Aemond had widened his eye. – “Mother I am sorry…”- he apologized.

Alicent picked up the pillow, hesitating a moment before surprising Aemond by throwing it back at him. You were laughing loud as Aemond wiped that smile of your face by hitting you. You fell backwards onto the matrass. Alicent and Aemond quickly grabbed a few pillows to defend themselves. Soon a series of throws were exchanged, hitting each other.

Aegon was the only one not participating. He was glancing your way, hearing your loud sweet laughter. Groaning loud, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He grabbed a pillow, joining the fight that seemed like so much fun. He got hit by a pillow, falling onto the matrass with you. You knelt down, hitting him repeatedly with a pillow. - “I surrender cousin.” – Aegon called out as you kept laughing. He got a bit up, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you down on the matrass with him. Tickling you in revenge.

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