#saw some that were paler than I've ever seen before last night!

[vampiricsheep]

how can I hate summer when I can be dazzled by fireflies on a warm moonlit walk

[percyluvr]

Omg hi can you do a Percy x child of Nike!reader? maybe like something hurt/comfort and lots of touch bc I am hanging on by a thread. Thank you

percy jackson x child of nike!reader summary: you've been overworking yourself preparing for capture the flag and something your boyfriend says finally sends you over the edge wc: 676

You'd always known yourself to be quite a rational thinker. Even as a child of Nike, you usually knew when to stop and take a break so you didn't overwork yourself, but this time you'd finally crossed the line into concerning territory. 

Ever since your first loss in capture the flag since you'd arrived at camp, you'd been training every day to get better. While you knew that training for 7+ hours a day every single day would take a toll on you, you just didn't expect for it to have this big an effect on you. Every day, you could be seen tiredly getting your breakfast, falling asleep at lunch, and nearly passing out during sword fighting.

At first, Percy had been concerned, but didn't want to voice it, as you'd always known when to rest before, but this time it was different. He knew you hated to lose, but when his team beat yours in capture the flag last month, he didn't know it would affect you this much. He wanted to talk to you, but he could never find you when it wasn't meal time, and you were always asleep in addition to the not being able to sit at other cabins' tables rule that he so graciously followed.

Days passed, and he noticed that the natural glow that you and your siblings typically had was completely gone. The glow of the Nike kids came from small victories day to day that most people wouldn't really consider victories, but the Nike kids cared about all of them. However, the fact that yours was completely gone and you were looking paler than ever just proved the fact that you were overworking yourself and not paying attention to the smaller things, mainly being your health.

This observation brought him to one conclusion: he was going to have to talk you into resting, which would prove to be a very difficult endeavor because everyone at camp knew how hard it was to get a Nike kid to do anything but obsess over winning.

That night, he found you practicing your swordsmanship. He saw the way that you tiredly swung the sword, nearly dropping it numerous times.

"Hey, what are you doing? It's almost curfew," he says, breaking your already waning focus.

"Oh, Perce," you say tiredly, "just practicing for capture the flag."

"Baby, you need to rest, you've been overworking yourself like crazy."

"Listen, I get that you're worried about me, but you don't get it. I've never lost a game of capture the flag. Not in the 4 years I've been at this camp, Percy. You may think it's silly because your team won and you probably think it's just some stupid camp game, but it matters to me, okay? It's a way for me to prove that I'm good enough, Percy," you snapped.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay. I don't think that at all. If it's important to you, it's important to me, but your health is what matters most to me," he gently takes your hand in his. "C'mon let's sit down, okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, your tiredness now fully caught up with you.

"Y'know I wasn't trying to upset you, I'm just worried about you. I love you and I care about you," he whispered in your ear, strong arms wrapped around you. Him saying this was what finally broke you, and you started crying.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry, okay? You're the most important thing in my life and I hate seeing you like this. All burnt out and crying, you don't deserve this. But you have to rest if you're going to win next time, okay?" He brings you into his lap and puts his head on your shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," you sniffled, leaning into him. He gave you a soft kiss, and the two of you sat there cuddled up, and when you inevitably fell asleep, he carried you back to his cabin and the two of you cuddled up and slept through the night, keeping each other warm.

a/n: hopefully this was at least somewhat what u were hoping for! i had a lot of fun writing this saur i hope u like it !

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Sengoku (JP)

THE CAPTIVE PRINCESS (KICHO) EPILOGUE

Kicho's long, slender fingers traced my lips.

(My heart feels so hot whenever I feel his warmth.)

(Why is he touching me so gently?)

My heart beat faster, so I turned my face down slightly to avoid him noticing me blushing.

His hair swayed in front of my eyes, making my heart grow even louder.

Kicho: "Doesn't seem deep, but I'll get you some medicine."

Mai: "N-No! I'm fine."

Kicho: "What are you going to do if it leaves a scar?"

Mai: "I don't care."

(If I stay any closer, he might notice the sound of my heartbeat.)

I was about to slip out from under the covers when Kicho grabbed my arm and stopped me.

Kicho: "Don't get out of bed. Have you forgotten how you look?"

(Oh, right.)

I was only wearing a thin undergarment because my kimono had been soaked in the river.

Kicho: "You don't want me to see you like that, even in the dim light."

(I'm sure he's already seen me when he took off my wet kimono.)

(He's probably being considerate.)

Mai: "I'll stay quiet under the covers."

Kicho: "That's a wise decision."

He removed his hand from my arm and sat back down beside me.

(Come to think of it, he doesn't look so good either.)

He looked unconcerned, but his face, paler than usual, suggested that he was not in good condition.

(He didn't answer me earlier when I asked him how he was feeling.)

(I don't want to surprise him by doing this, but一)

Mai: "Sorry!"

At the same time as I said this, I put my hand on Kicho's cheek.

Kicho: "............"

(I'm assuming his temperature is normal?)

(I have no idea what his normal temperature is because I hardly ever touched him in the first place.)

Kicho: "What do you think you're doing?"

Mai: "I'm making sure you don't have a fever. I'm worried about you."

Kicho: "Not your concern."

Mai: "Nope, it's my fault you got wet. So that's why一"

(It's pretty embarrassing, but一)

Kicho: "Mai?"

I straightened up and sat back down on the edge of the futon.

Mai: "Warm yourself up with me."

Kicho: "Ha?"

Kicho's beautiful eyes widened.

Kicho: "You're not afraid to do something so defenseless."

Mai: "I'm not defenseless. If someone tries to do something to me, I will scream and slap them."

Mai: "See, my hands and feet are free now."

To prove that there was no problem, I raised both my fists.

Mai: "So, come sit next to me."

(If I can warm him up, even a little...)

Kicho: "That's a brave thing to do."

Mai: "I'll take that as a compliment."

Kicho: "Okay."

Kicho let out a sigh and sat down next to me.

Our shoulders touched, and warmth slowly spread through our kimonos.

(I proposed this myself, but my heart is beating so fast.)

I can't help blushing when I notice that even though he looks slim, he is still muscular.

Kicho: "I've thought about this before, but you're always in danger."

Mai: "Huh? which part?"

Kicho: "You're not aware of it?"

(Waah!)

He put his arm around my waist, and our bodies touched.

Mai: "K-Kicho?"

I clenched my fist in a moment of shock, but he stopped me by wrapping one hand around my fist.

Kicho: "I won't take this any further, but..."

Kicho: "I've long forgotten what it felt like. I guess it's not bad to share warmth with others this way."

My heartbeat grew even louder as I looked into his sexy eyes.

(I wanted to keep him warm, but being in his arms makes me warm and cozy, too.)

(Is that my lips?)

I opened my eyes at the sensation of something touching me and saw a pair of hazel-green eyes looming over me.

Mai: "!"

Kicho: "You're awake."

He pulled his body away from me, and I got up in a hurry.

Mai: "W-What are you一wait, when did I fall asleep!?"

Kicho: "You must have been tired. You were fast asleep last night."

(I-I see.)

Kicho: "I just woke up too. And while I was at it, I put some medicine on your lips."

I recall Kicho telling me last night that my lips have a cut.

Mai: "Thanks."

My heart was tingling softly in my chest as the feeling of his fingertips lingered on my lips.

(I was surprised. But he may be right that I'm in danger even in this situation... sleeping on the same futon with someone who is not my lover.)

(Or was it because I was sleeping with this guy?)

Kicho: "By the looks of it, you don't look like you're in any physical pain."

Mai: "Yes, I'm fine."

When I came back to myself and looked at him, I saw that his pale face was better than last night.

(Did I help him at least?)

Kicho: "The innkeeper just brought your clothes too. I've already asked him to prepare a horse."

Kicho: "Get ready. We're leaving."

Mai: "Okay!"

I nodded, stood up, and took the dry kimono.

(It's a long way from here to Azuchi.)

(We still have a little more time alone together.)

Kicho: "You look happy."

Mai: "Eh? No, I'm not..."

(Am I?)

I was glad I could return to Azuchi as soon as possible, but I was even happier that I could still spend some time with Kicho.

I swallowed the strange feeling that rose to my throat and gently traced my lips with my pinky finger where he put the medicine, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Fin.

Previous Part

[le-brave-des-braves]

Good morning - or afternoon, or whatever time of day it is for you...

I am probably not the best person to relay this to you. I am not French nor do I consider myself to be particularly patriotic. But I do understand devotion. I do not know what information you have access to from your afterlife, but I just in case this didn't get to you: France still stands. I have seen her with my own eyes in the last days of summer. Not all, of course, the time was far too short. But - some. A little bit. I first set foot on her soil at five in the morning, when the vehicle transporting us made a break after spending all night on the road. Everything was shrouded in mist and the sun had not yet risen - and the first thing I did was purchasing a cheat sheet of French phrases in a nearby shop, which never left my side from then on and acted as much-needed support to my atrocious knowledge of French. I think I nearly cried when I learned just how blue the sky could be - a deep ultramarine hue we just don't have here. Even on the clearest days, the sky is much paler here. I saw the waves of the Atlantic crash into the rocky shore as they did for ages before and I was surprised by the fierceness of the coastal wind. And I saw Paris, though to my regret the impressions already blend together and I am sure they are only a fraction of what was worth seeing - but perhaps my fondest memories are not of the buildings I've been pulled through, nor of the ones I admired from afar, not of the gardens or streets or churches, but of the people - of the lady who helped me find where pastries were sold, of the quiet bookshop owner who confirmed to me that the second-hand books really were sold for that little, of the poor waitress who had to deal with me automatically bringing my dishes back to the counter (I am so sorry. It will probably happen again.) And I guess that is what I came to tell you - they are still standing, which is far more impressive in beings of flesh and blood than it is in works of masonry. And I think you of all people deserve to know that.

Cher anonyme,

I’m out of words, and I don’t think I will ever be able to express how touched I am. Thank you for your letter and the kind words because, God knows how much I needed those.

Thank you.

I wish you many more happy moments spent in my beloved and beautiful country I called my home.

I would die for it again.

Heymes: Levavasseur, where the hell are you, he seems like he’s tearing up. How do I handle this.

I’m NOT crying Heymes. Get back to work. And find Levavasseur. If he decided to ditch me like Jomini did, I swear will slap him.

[lenievi]

i've never like WATCHED watched star trek (my parents would have it on while i was around so i saw things sometimes) but seeing you post about them has gotten me so attached to spock and mccoy lol. can you do 5 off the prompt list for them? it seems right up their alley

that’s so fun to hear, Cas! Thank you for sending me a number! I wanted this to be cute but it’s not *sighs* But I also wrote this in like one hour lol

I’m obviously still on my For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky nonsense, so this is related to the episode, and it’s set prior to the final scene where McCoy is 100% cured (At the beginning of the episode McCoy finds out he has a terminal illness and has only one year to live, stuff happens, and of course, Spock finds a cure last minute, literally.)

prompt: feeling their pulse

warnings: low-key deals with a fictional terminal illness, painful cure, and injections (nothing graphic or serious or even angsty, but I figured I’d mentioned it.) It’s from Spock’s POV, and McCoy is sleeping the whole time.

can be read as friendship or something more, it’s up to you!

––––––––––––––––––

The nurse left, and Spock looked up from his PADD, his eyes falling on McCoy’s restless form lying in the bed. After they’d injected McCoy with the first dose of the cure, the K3 indicator registering the level of pain had risen. Since then, it stayed above the threshold comfortable for humans and only decreased in the last hour, and McCoy finally fell asleep.

There were still two doses left to inject - one tomorrow, and another one the day after - but the slow changes seen on the medical panel were already promising. They were a hopeful sign that Spock hadn’t made a mistake in his translation of the Fabrini language. That he himself should be the reason why McCoy would never recover, why his life would be shortened even more drastically, was extremely unpleasant, and Spock quickly buried the thought.

The sickbay was quiet. It was the middle of the artificial night, and there were no other patients. McCoy was sleeping, and there was nothing Spock could do until the time for the second dose came. The image of his mother sitting at his father’s bedside after his surgery in this very room, at this very bed flashed through his mind. There was no chair next to McCoy’s bed, and Spock had his duties to attend to. The thought of staying was illogical, almost irrational. A nurse on the night shift would alert him and doctor M’Benga if anything changed about McCoy’s condition. The Captain, too, had already retired to his quarters. And yet… Spock was reluctant to leave.

He put down his PADD and inspected the medical panel again. Everything was within the expected parameters. He looked at McCoy. His face was paler than usual, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

The cure was painful, the notes were clear about that. Muscle pain, headache, and extreme fatigue before the third dose were common side effects, but seeing McCoy’s discomfort was never pleasant.

Spock reached out his hand, almost touching McCoy’s temple, almost playing with the idea of relieving McCoy of some of his physical pain, his fingers twitching, before finding McCoy's wrist. The tips of his fingers brushed over the soft skin, finding the steady heartbeat. The warmth, the pulse, so wrong and different and yet right for a human were calming.

“There’s nothing more reassuring than feeling the pulse yourself,” McCoy had said during the first weeks of their acquaintance, and while Spock didn’t understand then, he knew it to be true now.

And something eased in Spock. Something he wasn’t aware of, and yet it had been present ever since the Captain told him about McCoy’s affliction.

McCoy would live. A warm feeling rose in Spock’s chest, and he allowed himself to run his first and second fingers over the back of McCoy’s hand, hoping that in his restless sleep McCoy would feel the simple contact of skin on skin and find some comfort in it; the same way Spock had found comfort in feeling McCoy’s heartbeat.

Spock straightened, grabbed his PADD, and left the room. He would be back in time for the second dose.

[marichat-verse]

Mist Memories

Leo Valdez x reader for his birthday ahhhh (even though it's angsty) with a platonic/developing jason x reader cameo at the end (lmao im sorry i couldn't help myself 😭)

Based on this picture I found in pinterest + also [kinda] based on traitor by olivia rodrigo and omg i really recommend u guys listen to this edit because it reminds me so much of this fic that's been stuck in my head for MONTHS also kind of a run away with me prologue lol

Your POV

I nervously made my way across the forest until I reached a limestone cliff. I knocked on the iron door, not really expecting to get an answer.

My boyfriend has been shutting himself in Bunker 9 for the past few weeks. I stood there counting up to seven before knocking again. I knocked again two more times, until he answered in the middle of my last knock.

He removed his goggles and winced as sunlight hit his eyes. He'd grown thinner and paler, making the dark circles in his eyes more pronounced.

"Oh, Leo..." I reached out to brush a few strands of hair away from his face, but he moved away.

"What are you doing here?" He said in a monotone voice.

I moved to walk inside the Bunker, brushing off his hesitation to let me in. "I'm your partner, remember? And I'm really concerned because you're shutting yourself out lately. You know everyone's starting to worry about you. Percy asked me to check on you because you missed pegasus riding with him. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Jason's coming back from Camp Jupiter soon. I was hoping you and Annabeth could be with Piper while Percy and I hung out with Jason because it's been a little awkward since their breakup. Plus Piper wanted to tell you something—"

"Please," he said forcefully causing me to stop and look at him. "Just... Get out."

Normally, he'd shut himself from the world for a few days to work on an important project or because he was feeling really sad and he needed space. But this was getting out of hand. He had never locked me out of his life when I offered to help him. He was never this mean when he asked for space. I was not having this attitude of his.

"Okay, Leo. I tried to play nice. What is so important that you blow off all your friends for nearly a month that you can't even tell your partner, or maybe say hi to your best friend who's coming back from the other side of the country?"

He didn't say anything. He pursed his lips and avoided eye contact. I scanned he room for any signs.

It was messier than usual with all the crumpled paper scattered on the floor, especially on his desk. He could have been drawing up new plans. Something in my gut told me that something wasn't right. There were no new unfinished projects, indicating that he wasn't starting a new invention. Harley's helicopter lay on his bench in the same state it was weeks ago. Huh, not even his siblings could enter the Bunker.

I turned and Leo was already changing Festus' oil. I took this moment of distraction to pick up a few pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and on his desk. I had to process the words a bit longer—too long that Leo took notice. Damn dyslexia.

I heard footsteps speed up behind me, but it was too late. I read enough and got the gist of what he had been trying to do these past few weeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at me. Small embers started to erupt between his curls.

I laughed dryly. "So this is what you've been up to?"

His fists tightened, further crumpling the paper in his hands. His eyes flashed with anger, despair and confusion.

I sighed and focused my eyes on his desk, not daring to look at him any longer. Under some pieces of paper were old photographs of him and Piper from Wilderness School. Yup, those definitely were the mist memories she had with Jason. I read the latest draft he'd been writing:

Dear Piper,

Remember the mist memories from boarding school with Jason? They were real, but they were with me.

I miss you. I miss when it was just us. I miss the night on the roof.

Yours truly,

Leo Valdez

I tried to keep my voice from cracking. "How long?"

I heard him sigh. "Three weeks."

I balled my fists. Tears started to fall and smudge the ink. I wiped them away as fast as they came.

"How?"

"In a dream," his tone softened now. "Hera came to me in a dream and told me to check an old drawer in Bunker 9. I found the photos and the memories came rushing back."

"How long were you dating back then?"

"Two weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Silence; then a deep breath.

"No."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I knew you'd get upset like—"

"I meant why would you throw away months of our relationship for a couple of weeks of your relationship with her? And without even bothering to tell me? Gods damn it, Leo. We've been together since you've first arrived at camp. And what about those promises you made when we were sailing to Greece? You've been keeping these feelings away from me and you've been lying to me, making me believe that there's still something between us and—"

"Oh, calm down," he said with an annoyed expression and tone, which only infuriated me more, "it's not like I did anything were her yet! I didn't kiss her or tell her how I truly felt for her! She just got out of a relationship with Jason around the same time I had that dream. I had to figure out how to talk to her about it. I've been alone in this Bunker for three. Fucking. Weeks. I didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, and that makes everything better?" I countered. "Being in a relationship isn't about not cheating, Leo. It's about being honest and communicating with each other."

"Oh, like you've been communicating with me? After the war, you take go back to Manhattan for school, and you take a job. I haven't seen you much during the holidays because work has been keeping you in the city. And you won't tell me what you even do for a living!"

I took in a deep breath. "I told you I needed to have a life outside of camp! I needed to know first that I could handle myself in the mortal world as a normal human being. I needed this demigod part of my life to be separate as much as possible! I've been in two wars, Leo. I needed time to myself, too. And I was about to tell you guys in a few more days. But I guess now, I'm glad I've kept you out of that part of my life. At least I have an escape from all of this. And now, especially from you."

I took another deep breath and walked to the door, about to let myself out. I turned back again, both our tear-stained eyes meeting each other.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said softly, "I would've hated the idea of us breaking up. But if you really love her, if you really feel like you have this special connection to her and she makes you happy, then I won't get in your way. You could at least have had the decency to talk to me so we could have left on a good note."

He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly regretting his actions. I sighed and looked around the Bunker, possibly for the last time. Lots of memories were definitely created in this room; all just as grand and meaningful as the inventions they made here. But just like some of Hephaestus' contraptions, some of them were flawed and dumped in his scrapyard, no matter how much potential it could have had.

"Goodbye, Leo."

I sat on a rock on the beach that gave me a beautiful view of Long Island Sound. To my left, the sun started to set, casting an orange filter on everything. My heart broke, remembering how everything glowed orange in the Bunker. Leo always left the fires burning when he was working. The sunlight twinkling against the sea reminded me of how small bits of flame peaked through his hair earlier. I remembered how mad he was at me. Or maybe he was mostly mad at himself.

"Hey."

I jumped when someone sat—or rather, landed—beside me. I turned and smiled, seeing one of my good friends back at camp.

"Hey, you're back," I said weakly. "How long have you been here?"

He smiled at me, although he could maybe sense that something was wrong. "Half an hour, maybe? I saw Annabeth making plans to expand camp to have a city. She made me do an aerial inspection and I told her I'll get back to her tonight. That's when I saw you."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again, knowing he was just waiting for me to open up.

"I broke up with Leo."

His head quickly turned to me. I guess he wasn't expecting it to be that bad. "What?"

"Oh yeah," I laughed dryly. "Turns out the mist memories Piper had in Wilderness School with you? They were real. But not with you."

His eyes widened. "Oh... With Leo."

"He locked himself in the Bunker for weeks trying to write a letter. It was heartbreaking. Like, truly heartbreaking. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how much he missed them. Then he said how much he missed that night with her under the stars and... It hurt. Like hell."

"Oh," he said. "I guess Piper didn't tell me everything then."

"She knew all along?"

He shook his head. "Maybe not everything, but she told me she's been confused about her feelings lately and she'd been having visions or dreams of possible old memories that were messing with her head."

"I'm sorry about you and Piper," I said.

"Don't be," he said. "I understand her. It did hurt, though. But I think I can get over it some day. We're still awkward around each other, but at least we left on a good note."

I scoffed. "Leo couldn't even give me a good ending to our relationship."

"Hey," he said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great person, y/n. You've done so much, especially for him. It's his loss that he was stupid enough to let go of you."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"I do!" I said. "I'm a great person and I know that. But that doesn't mean what he did doesn't hurt me."

"I know," he said. "You'll find someone who'll treat you like the queen that you are. You're a great person, and I'm not just saying this to cheer you up. I truly think you're amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jason. And you'll find someone great, too. Maybe not as great as me but, then again, who is?"

We both let out a laugh. The conch sounded in the distance, signaling dinner. I moved to stand up before hearing Jason speak up again.

"Hey, do you maybe want to just grab a couple of plates and eat out here?"

I smiled. "Yeah. That sounds good. I don't really want everyone else hounding me about the breakup right now."

I don't know how long it was going to take me to get over Leo. We really did gave something special. It was cruel how the universe gave me something so good, to make me have hope that something was finally going right, then have it yanked away from my arms just as suddenly as it came.

He never cheated on me, but that didn't mean he didn't betray every promise we made to each other. I should have known it was too good to be true. Life has always played cruel jokes on me.

Then again, who's to say that things won't turn out for the better, right?

•••

Tagging: @drvrslcense @bubblybubbubs @dreamerball @quteez @aesthetxcimagines @chasingpj @beingleft @wadewilsonsgreatestfriend

[supercalvin]

There are few fic writers that have the talent, patience, understanding, and dedication to write heartfelt, emotional, accurate, gut-wrenching, amazing stories, but you are certainly one of them. I've been reading your fics on AO3 for the last 3 days straight and I'm nearly done. At first I wanted to tell you which were my favorites before I realized that ALL of them were. I'm ecstatic that I discovered your incredible writing. If I may, could I ask for a continuation of the farmer ficlet?

Can I just say that this was such a sweet sweet sweet message @daesmilewings  and I’m so sorry for the delay!! I hope I can make up for it with this ficlet! 

FARMER FICLET PART 1

Prompts + Ficlets

***

The only reason Merlin slept the rest of the night was because Gaius gave him a sleeping draught. He woke late and ran to get Arthur’s breakfast on time, but at least he was rested.

Arthur looked like he was about to yell at Merlin for being late, but he must have taken pity on Merlin for once, and didn’t say anything.

He went through the day in a haze, his mind continually going back to the farm in his dream and Arthur’s arm around him. Arthur kept glancing at him like he thought Merlin might keel over. Merlin excused himself more than once that day to find a chore on the other side of the citadel. 

That night he dreamt of Ealdor. He dreamt of Balinor and his mother. There was a small boy with dark hair running around Hunith’s feet, running into Balinor’s arms. Merlin startled awake, not sure whether guilt or sorrow was filling him more.

It was still early morning, but Merlin didn’t dare go back to sleep. 

The stables were quiet at this time. Merlin hushed Llamrei as he woke him, petting his nose with a gentle hand. “Come on, boy. Let’s go.”

Merlin rode out into the woods at a quick pace, hoping he could find the Druids’ camp before day break.

 ***

“Where have you been?”

Merlin had barely stepped into the royal stables, guiding Llamrei back into his stall, before Arthur was at his side.

“And with my horse too.” Arthur crossed his arms.

“Llamrei likes me better,” Merlin’s point was proven when Llamrei affectionately bumped his head against his chest.

“You run off without telling Gaius where you went. And I didn’t give you the day off. You could have been lying in a ditch for all I knew.”

Merlin didn’t look at Arthur as he fed Llamrei an apple, feeling something warm settle in his chest, knowing Arthur’s anger only came from concern.

“I’m sorry.” Merlin said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Arthur opened his mouth then snapped it shut. “What is with you?” Arthur narrowed his eyes, “Gaius was oddly cagey this afternoon and you barely said a word to me yesterday.”

Merlin looked around as he brushed Llamrei’s mane.

“Is it…?” Arthur raised a brow, making a gesture which Merlin assumed meant magic.

Merlin nodded.

“We’ll talk tonight. Don’t think you’re getting out of it, either,” Arthur snapped, before striding off. 

***

That evening, Merlin barely closed the chamber doors behind himself before Arthur said, “Out with it.”

Merlin sighed, setting down the wine pitcher and Arthur’s dinner. He poured Arthur’s goblet, “I’ve been having visions.”

“What?” Arthur looked like he was about to bolt out of his chair.

Merlin held up his hand, “I don’t have the Sight. They aren’t nightmares either. I went to the Druids today to see what they knew about it.”

“Why didn’t you-“ Arthur’s question was cut off, as it often was with that question. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ had been a bit of a sore point over the last year. Merlin had urged that he hadn’t wanted Arthur to decide between his father’s laws and Merlin, but Arthur still believed Merlin had lied because he had thought Arthur would kill him. 

Arthur sighed, “How long has this been going on?”

“Only a few days,” Merlin said. “I didn’t even know they were visions until night before last.”

“What happened? If they aren’t visions of the future, then what are they?”

“They’re impossible futures,” Merlin said, not looking Arthur in the eye, “Things that people desire most, but will never be possible…”

Arthur frowned, “What did you see?”

“Morgana on the throne.”

Arthur nodded, his frown deepening. “That’s all?”

“I saw Gwen with Lancelot…”

Arthur flinched, and Merlin didn’t blame him. He and Gwen hadn’t been in a relationship for a few years now, but thinking of Lancelot’s sacrifice at the Door still hurt all of them.

“Gaius dreamt of peace with…. Well, she’s no longer living.” Merlin said.

“Who else did you see?”

“No one,” Merlin said. He had promised Arthur no more lying, but some lies were necessary.

“Can you stop it?”

Merlin nodded, “The druids said it was a type of magic that happens sometimes to those with powerful magic. They cast a charm they said should keep it from happening again.”

Arthur nodded, looking uncomfortable but pleased that it was at least being handled.

“Did you see your own impossible dream?”

Merlin hadn’t thought of it. He had been so wrapped up in Arthur’s, that he hadn’t even wondered what he would want. There were so many things he wished he had done differently. He understood that circumstances were out of his control, but that was what made it an impossible dream. But his true dream was still possible. To have an untied Albion, to have magic return to the land…and to be by Arthur’s side.

And Merlin suddenly realized Morgana's dream wasn’t his first vision. The night before, he had dreamt of Albion. He had been confused by the dream, but that was hardly odd, considering all dreams were irrational. There had been a feast, and he was sitting at Arthur’s side. Lancelot was there next to Gwaine and Percival. Gwen was seated down the line, next to Morgana, who had looked younger and happier than she had in years. Balinor had been sitting at the visiting dignitary’s table, a little white dragon draped across his shoulders. The dream wasn’t a memory. How could it have been? Balinor had died far before he reached Camelot. Morgana was young, not broken by her grief and pain. It was as if several versions of Merlin’s life had been jumbled together.

Merlin remembered he had drunk the mulled wine, not even thinking about the fact that he was sitting next to Arthur instead of serving him.

The dream had faded in and out, but it had been oddly real, just like the other visions. Merlin remembered Arthur taking his hand and leading him to the royal chambers. He had pressed Merlin up against the door, and kissed him thoroughly, as if he had been waiting all night for it.

Merlin had woken, not thinking anything of it. The feast was odd, and strangely real, but nothing too out of place for a dream. As for the kiss, Merlin certainly had had dreams like it before. He hadn’t even thought to connect it with any of the other visions.

“Merlin?”

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts by Arthur standing, “What is it?”

Merlin gave a weak smile, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar. How I never saw it before I’ll never know.”

Merlin sighed, “I just… I just realized that I had seen my own vision. I just hadn’t realized it.”

“What was it?”

Merlin looked away, “A feast. With everyone there.”

“Everyone?” Arthur paused and then said, “Ah. I see.”

Arthur crossed his arms, “You saw a vision of my impossible future, didn’t you? It’s why you’ve been so quiet the last few days.”

“I…” Merlin sighed and gave up on the lie. “I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

“Was it that bad that you had to hide it from me?”

“No, of course not, don’t be absurd.” Arthur was still frowning and Merlin sighed, “It’s going to bother you, isn’t it?”

“Well it obviously bothered you.” Arthur snapped, “You’ve been avoiding me for days.”

Merlin winced, “It’s not bad.”

“Well?” Arthur said impatiently.

“You were living on a farm,” Merlin said reluctantly.

“A farm,” Arthur’s brow furrowed, “Are you sure it was my vision?”

“You were the only one there. There were wheat fields and a vegetable garden. You had just fed the chickens, of all things” Merlin laughed and realized he was starting to sound too fond. He coughed, “Anyways, you wanted me to make rabbit stew and that was it. Nothing bad.”

“You were there?” Arthur asked, looking much paler, as if he just realized something.

Merlin mentally cursed himself, “I mean, obviously. I was there. You obviously need someone to do all the real work,” Merlin gave a nervous laugh.

Arthur looked at him for a long moment and Merlin tried not to fidget.

“You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” Merlin asked far too quickly.

“Merlin, don’t play with me. You saw.  You saw what I want.”

Merlin swallowed, fiddling with his own sleeve, tugging on a loose thread. “You know, in all the visions, no one had ever interacted with me. I was like a ghost watching from the outside. But then you turned up, hands covered in dirt, pulling me along to look at some lavender bush that we had been fighting about because even in your dreams Arthur, we still fight.”

Arthur looked embarrassed, his red rising up his neck and ears.

Merlin thought of how impossible that dream was. How Arthur could never have it. “I’m sorry things can’t be that simple.”

Arthur looked away, “No. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see that. To be forced into my dream. I understand if you would like some distance.”

“What?”

“I didn’t have control over the dream, obviously, but I hope I conducted myself well.” Arthur’s face was becoming redder.

“You don’t care if you conduct yourself well with me in person, let alone a dream, what are you talking about?”

Arthur nodded, “Good, so I didn’t…Good.”

Merlin realized Arthur thought he had pushed himself upon Merlin in the vision. If only he knew what Merlin’s vision had been.

“Arthur, I didn’t mean… Arthur that’s not why I’m sorry.” Merlin stepped forward and tried to catch Arthur’s eye. “I’m sorry that as King you’ve had to sacrifice so much.  I would give anything to see you as happy as you were when you showed me that damned lavender plant. I’m sorry that your vision was just you being...”

“What?”

Merlin smiled, “Happy.”

Arthur looked away again.

“Arthur, look at me,” Merlin reached out, tilting Arthur’s chin toward him, locking eyes with Arthur’s. There was a sadness in them that Merlin never wanted to see again. “Every fiber of my being would give that to you, if I could. I would give anything to see you happy. I wish our lives could be like that simple farm. I wish we could spend our days in that bed.”

Arthur looked amazed, his mouth open and his wet eyes wide.

“In my vision, you dragged me to your chambers and you pressed me up against those doors,” Merlin nodded behind himself, “You’re not the only one with impossible dreams, Arthur-”

Merlin didn’t get a chance to finish. Arthur was grabbing Merlin's face in both hands, his lips clumsily pressing into Merlin’s. His teeth nipped at Merlin’s lips, and Merlin grabbed onto Arthur’s cape, desperate to stay upright as Arthur dragged him backwards. Merlin stumbled and realized Arthur had walked him backwards until he was up against the very doors he had dreamed about.

Arthur panted against Merlin’s lips. 

“Like that?”

Merlin nodded, looking up at Arthur’s eyes, “Yeah.”

Merlin threaded his fingers into Arthur’s hair and pulled him in again.

“I couldn’t give a damn about the farm,” Arthur said roughly against Merlin’s lips, his teeth dragging down to Merlin’s chin and jaw, “Being King comes with sacrifices.” He pressed his lips to Merlin’s earlobe, sinking down to press a soft kiss to Merlin’s neck, before tilting his head up to look at Merlin again, “The only thing I want is to have you by my side.”

“Then you have me,” Merlin said and let Arthur kiss him until he couldn’t think any longer.

***

(PART 1 in case you missed it lol)

Prompts + Ficlets

[imperial-martian]

Protective vs Possesive {Mycroft Holmes x Reader} [Part 2/?]

A/N: Sorry that it has taken me so long to get done, but I’ve finally gotten inspiration with the help of @kye06. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I was a bit iffy with it until the end, which I really love. Let me know what you think and if this should be the end or if more parts should be added!

Mycroft x Ex-Wife! Pregnant! Reader

Angst/Fluff

(Mentions of Divorce, Pregnancy, Fainting, Hospitals, Mentions of Llightly Unhealthy Weight Loss, Soft! Mycroft)

•—•

Sherlock was sat in Bart's hospital sitting room, his hands interlaced and his chin resting upon them as he waited and waited. Each second that past felt like hours, each minute felt like days. The ticking of the clock at the corner of the room was slowly driving the man crazy.

It had only been a month and a half since you've moved into Baker Street with Sherlock and John. Every day seemed to be weighing down on you more and more. There was no more waking up to morning kisses that, Mycroft so loved to greet you with, or the smell of freshly brewed coffee. No more late-night cuddles and silent reading as you laid in his arms, smiling.

With every memory came the ghost of his touch, and with that came the guilt. You should've cherished those moments you had with him, to thank Mycroft for always ensuring your safety. Now, you couldn't even do that. The simple thought of him made you want to cry.

Yet, you were unable to think about anybody at the moment. Not while you lied, unconscious in a hospital bed while doctors and nurses tried to determine what was wrong before finally, they did.

However, Sherlock was still waiting, and he was still slowly going insane with impatience. He let only a second pass him before he cams his older brother, his blue eyes shut as he listened to the ringing of the phone.

On the other side of London, in an office, sat Mycroft Holmes, a government official who was just scribbling down a note on a piece of paper. The moon was shining in through the window, having just crept past a cloud that obscured some of its light. The auburn-haired man let out a little grunt into the glass of scotch he had just raised to his lips. A phone call was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Nonetheless, he grabbed the device, seeing if he recognized the number before feeling a sudden sense of shock and worry as he saw his brother's name. In a quick motion, Mycroft had placed down the scotch glass while throwing on his coat as he brought the phone up to his ear.

"Sherlock?" he said through the phone, moving around his desk to gather some things. If it wasn't an emergency then at least he'd be packed and have an excuse to head home.

Sherlock let out a small sigh as he heard his brother's voice, a sound he wasn't sure that relieved him or annoyed him. "Mycroft, come down to Bart's, Y/N's in the hospital," he stated, getting straight to the point and not wanting to waste time.

Mycroft was surprised for a moment, not because Y/N was in hospital but because he was being informed that she was. "Why am I being told this? And why am I being asked to visit her?" Mycroft asked, his tone airy and yet, somehow it sounded almost cold.

"Because this was your wife Mycroft! Because the person you once loved is now lying unconscious in a hospital room, and even I don't know what's wrong! That's why Mycroft, because if Y/N had even cracked a bit of that facade you've created, then you'd care enough to see her. God forbid she took her last breath in an hour and you weren't here to say goodbye or sorry, wouldn't you want to see her one last time?!"

Mycroft was shocked by his brother's outburst. He'd been yelled at plenty of times before by Sherlock, however, never for such a severe reason. A moment passed before he said, "I'll be there in ten minutes," and hung up the phone.

True to his word, Mycroft arrived at the hospital ten minutes later, walking towards the waiting room where Sherlock no longer sat. The government official walked up to the front desk, asking what room you were in.

"294," the nurse said before Mycroft said a quick thank you and made his way down the hall, his umbrella gripped tightly in his hand. He held it at the center, his leather shoes loud against the tiled floor.

He reached the room after a bit of walking, peaking through the window to spot his brother sitting at a chair beside the bed. Mycroft didn't bother looking around to see you, knocking on the door and waiting for someone to answer it. When the door was answered, Mycroft's blue eyes caught the ones of his brother who simply nodded and let him pass.

"Is she alright?" Mycroft asked, taking a step into the room and looking over at you. He placed the umbrella off to the side of the room and took a seat once he was finished.

He hadn't seen you properly since the ordeal that took place months ago. His heart ached at the sight of your s/c skin being much paler than what it usually is. Your body was a bit skinnier than he remembered and for a moment he feared the worst.

"Has she been eating properly?" Mycroft asked his brother who remained by the door.

Sherlock shook his head slightly. "She seems to be skipping breakfast every morning," he starts. "However, thankfully she eats her other meals."

Mycroft nodded, taking you over once more. "Did the doctors tell you what was wrong?" he inquired, his eyes never leaving your body.

Sherlock made a small hum. He knew that this should be something told to his brother, as well as yourself, by a doctor, but he knew it'd eat his brother alive if he didn't tell him. "She's pregnant Mycroft," he paused for a moment, expecting to see a reaction from Mycroft. When he didn't he continued, "they said she had fainted due to stress. They suspect she doesn't know she's with child yet."

All Mycroft could give in response was a weak nod before he asked his brother to leave for a moment. Sherlock obeyed Mycroft's wishes, taking a step out and moving back towards the waiting room before leaving altogether. He knew it was best to leave them both for some time.

Mycroft had leaned back against his seat, his mind seeming to bark questions at him, some that he didn't know the answers to. He looked back at you for a moment, taking in your h/c hair and familiar features. His hand was trembling as he brought it up to brush the strands of hair that cling to your face behind your ear.

Mycroft felt guilty at that moment. Guilty for leaving you when he could have been taking care of you, holding you close and protecting you. He was angry at himself that this entire situation was caused simply because he wanted to keep you safe, and yet, of course, he was the one harming you. It was always like that.

He'd never felt such a strong urge to hold you in his life. To whisper to you softly, letting you know that he couldn't wait to be a father and that you'd make an amazing mother. Yet, you were no longer his. He'd asked for the divorce.

The sudden feeling of warm, soft skin brushing against his arm caused his blue eyes to snap up towards you, his hand moving to clutch at your instinctively. "Y/N," he breathed out softly.

You felt emotional seeing Mycroft beside you, but you did not cry. All you did was smile back before facing the heart rate monitor. "Mycroft, what's wrong? W-why are you here?" you asked, scared and confused.

Mycroft tried his best to give you a reassuring smile. It was clearly forced and strained. He was about to answer you when a doctor entered the room, both heads turning to look at them.

"Ah, Mrs. Holmes-" you'd both tensed at that, but you couldn't blame the doctor. The divorce had yet to be finalized. "I'm glad to see you're awake. We've run some tests and nothing looks to be too worrisome. As a matter of fact, the cause of your fainting, although partially due to stress, is caused by pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations," the doctor explained.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Mycroft, fear written all over your face. How would this work now that you weren't with Mycroft?

Mycroft caught onto the fear quickly and gently ran a thumb over your knuckles, trying to assure you it'd be alright. Once the doctor left the room, Mycroft turned to look into your e/c eyes.

"Mycroft, wh-what are we going to do?" you asked, your hands trembling just as much as his are.

He took in a sharp breath for a moment, looking at you. "Y/N, I-I'd happily call off the divorce if you're willing to do the same. I... I'm not sure if I've truly ever wanted it. Ever since I've said it all I've felt was misery," he stated, his voice shaky. Mycroft's never had to say something like this. He's rarely ever let his emotions be spoken so freely.

You'd brought your hand up to his cheek when a single tear slipped from his eye. It wasn't a tear full of sadness, it was one of anger and guilt... and of the loneliness he tried so hard to get rid of only to welcome it back with open arms. Now, all he wanted to do was take you into his arms.

"I'd want nothing more than that, My," you whispered, and hearing the nickname- the one that used to bring him so much warmth -nearly caused Mycroft to cry more. He didn't, instead, moving to sit on the edge of your bed before taking you into his arms and adjusting himself so that he wouldn't hurt you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of your body against his cool skin causing him to feel safe and at home. "I've missed you," he whispered, placing a kiss against your shoulder.

"I've missed you too My," you whispered back, carefully running your fingers through his hair. "You'll make a great father," and just the thought of it caused you to smile because you knew it'd be true.

Mycroft lifted his head a bit to look into your eyes, a soft smile on his face. "And you'll be the best mother anyone could ever have, my dear," he replied, leaning down to give you a sweet, but passionate kiss against your lips. He'd only broken apart to murmur a soft, 'I love you,' before kissing you again.