#spoilers if you need: Arthur didn't kill anyone

[futurepastme]

The King's War - A promise made in blood

(Pt.1)

The day Merlin became Emrys (Cannon divergence AU)

He knocked.

He stared at the door waiting for an answer that never came, then pushed the door open and entered.

Merlin is Arthur's servant, which means that he got the privilege of cleaning his clothes and polishing his armour, as well as bathing the prince. He had seen the state his garments got after tournaments, after returning from long journeys where they both fought monsters and creatures, and Merlin has seen the state they got after bandit attacks. He has mended and cleaned and washed every piece of it. Tear, dents, mud, dirt and blood. Merlin had seen and fixed it all.

Or so he thought.

Arthur sat in front of the fireplace, drink in hand and eyes locked at the flames that were the only source of light in the whole room. They danced on his face, bringing an eerie shine to the blood that completely covered the prince.

Merlin felt sick again, the room reeked of blood and Arthur was the main source of it. From head to toe, Arthur's hair, clothes, gloves, boots, they were all bloody. The armour was carelessly scattered around the room as if they had been thrown, even his sword ended up under the table. Merlin didn't want to look closer, he knew they would be bloody too.

Merlin fought against his feelings and slowly made his way to where Arthur was.

"Perhaps a bath should be in order, My Lord." Merlin asked with a low, hoarse voice.

He didn't get much of an answer from that, Arthur made a slight movement with his head that could pass for half a nod and Merlin decided to consider that a yes. He turned around and started to work in autopilot, he brought in the tube, filled it with water and half kicked the armour bits that entered his way into a wannabe pile.

He didn't breathe, he didn't think, he didn't feel and most important of all: he didn't look, focusing entirely on the normal and mundane task of preparing the bath. He felt more than saw Arthur walking around getting rid of his clothes, clothes that Merlin would have to deal with later. That's what his goal was right now, deal with it later.

Arthur dipped inside the tube still holding his glass and Merlin knelt down next to him, he reached for Arthur to start cleaning him but when his hand finally touched the Prince's blood-stained skin he felt the walls he had so carefully built around his senses crumble down.

He could feel it all. Fear, despair, sadness, anger, he could hear the screams and feel them running away, and he could also feel the heat that came from the flames. Merlin's eyes filled with tears and he felt his breath get caught in his throat, then he pushed all aside and started scrubbing. He wouldn't break down.

He scrubbed Arthur's arms and legs, he washed his face and his hair and most of all he cleaned his hands. His Arthur, his Prince, his golden King that carried sunlight in his smile and kindness in his heart; he wanted to hug him, he wanted to scream at him, he wanted to hate him. Instead, he scrubbed and cleaned.

He was not rough, no, he would never hurt Arthur. His hands were gentle while washing him, slowly going through every inch of his uninjured body like he was a poet writing sonnets on Arthur's skin, as if his fingers alone could cleanse him of every evil, like he was a god granting forgiveness for a sinner.

They kept at it for a while, Arthur drinking from his glass with his gaze stuck somewhere far away, the water running redder as it dripped down from Arthur's body, and Merlin scrubbing so gently at the Prince's skin that it could almost be compared to a lover's caress.

When he was done, he dressed Arthur, refilled his glass one more time before putting the bottle away, placed the emergency sleeping draught on Arthur's bedside table, and started collecting both the clothes and the armour from the floor. Every new piece he picked up sent a chill up his arm and down his spine, he tried his best to block it all off.

When he finished, he looked back at Arthur one more time — he sat at the edge of the bed, glass half full on one hand and eyes back on the flames — before heading to the door.

"Try to get some sleep," he whispered and let the door close behind him.

Merlin didn't make it very far, but he did managed to reach a window before throwing up.

Thick tears went down his face and he let his body slide down the wall, he let his barriers collapse and every feeling he had suppressed so far came down on him like a raging sea. He tucked his knees against his body, held his hair tightly pulling at it in despair, and right there in a hallway between Arthur's chamber and Gaius' tower, sitting in a pile of bloody clothes and armour, Merlin broke down.

He was shaking, his body heaved with his crying and he wanted desperately to make it stop, please, God, make it stop. He felt their despair and heard their cries, breathed their last breath with them, felt the stab of swords against his back when he ran with them and cried their lost upon their now rotting corpses along with the earth. Merlin's mouth opened in a quiet scream, his magic wanting to flare up, to protect him, protect them, to do something, anything.

He heard them calling for him, begging for help — please, Emrys, please help us, have mercy, — and where was he? Where was Emrys when his kind, his people, were being murder in cold blood? Stuck in a stupid island trying to go back to Arthur. How many had died that he could have saved if only he had been here to help? How many of them died by Arthur's hand?

It was too much pain, too much suffering, Merlin wanted it to stop, please stop — help us, Emrys — stop it, gods why?

Merlin sat in his bubble of pain and suffering, being consumed by the pleas and the tragedy of his people in a way he didn't think it was possible, he never felt anything that could ever come close to that.

Slowly he felt them quiet down enough for him to be able to acknowledge his own feelings of shame and guilt, his people were promised a saviour that would help bring forth a golden age where they could once again be free. He asked again, where was that saviour when they needed him?

The pain was still latent — he had a feeling it wouldn't leave anytime soon — but he managed to let go of his hair, hugging his legs instead, letting his head rest against the cool stone beneath the window. He gazed at the moonbeams for a while before closing his eyes and let more tears fall. He felt his people's blood underneath him soaking Arthur's clothes, felt the pain coming from it.

He made a promise right there, nothing ritualistic or extremely deep and noble, nothing people would write about one day, no. It was just a thought, a promise to himself and to his people in the simplest form a promise could be. A simple thought while he still felt their pain and the tears still streamed down his face.

Uther wouldn't win. Merlin would make sure of it, no matter how many hunt parties he sent, King Uther would never be able to get rid of magic. Merlin would not sit back and watch as his people, his kind, were persecuted and murdered in cold blood. He would do something, he would help them.

Uther Pendragon would have to pry the golden age of Albion from his cold dead hands.

[oneknightstand-if]

Say deep into the romance(the notorious L word has been said and everything), how protective of the MC's are the RO's? And how would they handle losing the MC(i,e the MC died in the final battle/sacrificed themselves to win the day or something angsty like that)?

Well, a bunch of the ROs will already be trying to protect the MC as much as they can even before any romance, so there's not too much room to improve there. Also high affinity platonic bond can trigger this as much as any romance.

Merlin: Already the resident bodyguard/babysitter/cat-herder of the group. May give the MC a bit more attention when the group is in danger... but they're already watching over you. They'd perhaps feel more regret if they had to cut the MC loose.

For them, MC's death is... expected. Human lives are so ephemeral, after all. They'll always remember you... even thousands of years later and will bring the MC up in random conversations to random people. Probably MC's most embarrassing moments. For anyone paying attention & talking extensively to them in the game, Merlin already has repeatedly brought up their last longterm lover.

Biggest change here would be Merlin nearly killing themself to make certain that the MC's soul doesn't get dragged to Heaven or Hell. That's the fate that they'd find horrific for a loved one, not the natural death expected of all mortals.

Adrian: He's already potentially carrying the MC away from danger through half the city whether they like it or not so there's no room for Adrian to get more protective without going full yandere on you.

If the high affinity MC is dead, then Adrian is also most likely dead as well. He's the most ride or DIE of all the ROs and this already has implications if you go through the route where the MC refuses to leave their apartment and gets kidnapped by Merlin and Adrian.

Arthur: Due to his nature, he's already MAXIMUM THE PROTECTOR. He may be paying a bit more attention to you during times of danger, but he's already protecting you to his full capability and won't be acting any differently... after all, he's the High King and can't prioritize your safety over all others.

The same goes for the MC's death. The Post Apocalypse is still going to be a complete clusterfuck so he won't have time to stop and grieve. (The same as he won't have time to stop and grieve the fall of Camelot and the deaths of most of the people he knew because unlike the other Harbingers who reincarnated or who actually lived through the 1500 years span of time, to him Camelot fell last week.)

He'll create a suitable memorial customized exactly to the MC's tastes once things have calmed down. And Merlin will sneak over to comfort him, because Merlin's one of the few who can see past Arthur's strong front.

Percy: He's going to be hanging around a high affinity MC a lot, romanced or not. You're probably not going to notice much difference protection-wise as he's the sort who'd jump in to help you without a moment's notice even if he didn't like you.

At the MC's death, he'd probably disappear into a forest for several weeks without anyone being able to find him. He'll eventually return to the group though because he knows that he's needed. The MC would've been his first romantic love... and most probably will be his last as well.

4̷0̸4̸ ̷E̷r̷r̵o̴r̵ ̶N̶o̴t̷ ̴F̵o̸u̵n̶d̵: [SPOILERS]

Cassandra: She's a cop, so she's already keeping a protective eye out on the entire group as a whole. She'll be making extra special precautions for a high affinity MC. (This is probably one of the safest positions to have during the Apocalypse... as long as the MC behaves themselves).

Cassandra has some pretty traumatic stuff in her background, so this won't be the first lover she's lost. Her reaction will also depend on how you went... in an awesome blaze of glory (she'll build a statue for you) or something painfully drawn out & full of regret (heads will roll).

Vivian: Uh... you are probably going to need to have a 'discussion' with Vivian regarding her protectiveness. It can get a bit overwhelming at times. Like Merlin, she is well aware of the inherent ephemeral nature of a mortal.

So wouldn't it be better if she just 'took care' of all those people who approach you, just in case they turned out to be dangerous? And actually, why don't you stay with her at the bottom of the lake from now on? All the time. That would be very safe.

Otherwise, whatever killed the MC better hope it's already dead before Vivian gets at them.

Gwen: She's more the type that people protect than the type who protects people. The support from the background type. But you get close enough, that will not stop her at all and she will absolutely try to protect you to the best of her ability. Like right up there in the frontlines. You both may need to end up saving each other in that case.

About the MC's death... it's fine. It's fine. You've already died and reincarnated once. It can happen again. She'll be waiting for you. Eternally if necessary.

Lorelei: She'll already be highly protective of certain types of MCs (romanced or otherwise). Unlike some of the others, there'll actually be a noticeable change in her demeanor.

She's not the type to ever abandon someone in danger, but she will absolutely prioritize a romanced or high affinity MC over others. To the point where highly skilled fighter MCs may need to tell her to take a step back because she's jumping in even when it would be better that she did her own thing.

Will be quietly having a BSOD upon the MC's death (which she' ll blame entirely on her failing to protect and be there for the MC at the last moment). She'll eventually come back to the group as the icy version of Wrath, barely interacting with others while still carrying out her duties. (The other Harbingers are going to really have their work cut out for them there.)

Broderick: Another one who's demeanor will change after getting close to him... especially after what happens in his subplot. He'll be constantly protectively hovering over high affinity MC. But just during the dangerous times. (Which is actually all the time.) The MC will probably need to work through a few issues with him.

He'll be completely gutted by the MC's death and not really functional for quite awhile after that point. Definitely a changed man (and not for the better). It might take years for him to recover.

[adoriels-tears-if]

I think so far I'm on team mom (Elianna) I'm not an Elianna apologist but I do think she's a good mom (so far) I mean she did worry about being too overprotective and worried that her protectiveness would lead to her child hating her. I think for my female mc so far the acts are at least excusable like:

Mc has to hide their ears with a bandana and hide the fact they are actually Elianna child (or in my case daughter): annoying but understandable because really can't trust someone not to be blah about it (whether that info was forced out of them or not)

Did lying about who their actual parent is hurt MC? I mean mines definitely felt that gut punched but it wasn't like she blamed their mom for hiding that fact more like she hated the situation that caused the lie to occur.

Mc doesn't have child friends: that is unfortunate for their development but so far understandable since Elianna doesn't trust anyone that's not her friends or (Ash now that spell she put on him is broken)

I like to think Elianna knew that mc should have friends but seeing mines was very exciting to have Arthur join their little family (now including Telio) I think she didn't understand how isolated MC was until that point.

Was Elianna an asshole for not going out her way to initially save Telio (and other half breeds) from trafficking? Yes and kinda no? Yes it did seem like she was only killed enough to protect the perimeter of her home but like by the time she got back it was already getting late and she was very badly beaten and this was her going solo (not counting extra help from Sirius) so it's less clear if she would've done more if she had backup. I mean someone had to stay to watch the kids and protect them in case the house got breached.

Obviously now I don't know if now that mc got branded and kidnapped if that's going to make Eliana become more overprotective or more open to getting help. But clearly this is definitely going to change mc if not personally wise but maybe mentally (I do like characters mirroring each other and seeing my mc pretty excited to watch these monsters all die is both worrying and understandable... Maybe Eliana and MC are gonna be similar fighting wise?)

(ps: how far can Tear and their familiar be apart from each other without causing metal scarring? I mean isn't Ash at the capital? So how far did Sirius have to go to reach Eliana without anyone finding out? Question two: that nightmare mc had did that have anything to do with the spell Eliana put on Ash to forget about his child? Because she mentioned that it didn't work or at least not working properly or is nightmare being related to something else as MC was kinda scared about it. Question three: WHO ARE YOU DISEMBODIED VOICE?)

The more powerful the Tear, the more powerful the pet, and vice versa. The mental link between the two has virtually no limit, but many pairs fear separation because it makes them vunerable. This is particularly true of Men, who are the biologically weakest beings on Terrybiel.

The other Terrybiel beings are less chilly at the idea of a brief separation from the familiar, but any elf other than Ash would have reconsidered sending his other half north. A man would need to travel for around 6 months, and an elf or orc would need to divide this figure by 2 if they only took a break once a week to sleep.

A dwarf could further divide his travel time by using the ochre road and its wagon system.

The nightmare has nothing to do with it. And it was Ash himself who created the spell to erase his memory. It's infused in the watch he wears on his wrist.

Spoiler for the Voice.

[kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick]

Saw this going around and wanted to do it. Didn't get tagged, but I'm not writing anything right now, so I need some inspo.

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips

Knife prty

The Ballad of Hunith and Balinor

The Love Letter

the one where they assemble ikea furniture

That's the Way

The Last Dragonlord Book Three (I may not give very good answers about this one because spoilers)

These ones are just ideas, not wips

To Have you

A Valley Girl in King Arthur's Court

Amr

I Protect You With All My Heart

The Death Song of Arthur Pendragon

Merlin is banished for shagging Arthur

A New Side of You

Come Die With Me

Shag, Marry, Kill

Amok Time but in Merlin

Sidhe Chapter of the Men of Letters

Princess Mononoke AU

Crack fic involving Merlin's neckerchief

Gaius dies at the end of season 1

Gaius dies and so Merlin has to be the physician during a plague

Not tagging anyone since I didn't get tagged. Feel free to steal.

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

I'll Weather Any Blow

When soulmates can feel each other's pain, it takes Arthur a shockingly long to figure out Merlin is the one sharing with him. Yet as Arthur keeps getting increasingly worse injuries, he's left to wonder what the hell Merlin is actually doing!

on AO3

[canon typical violence, graphic descriptions of injuries, canonical character death, spoilers for season one]

Ships: Merlin/Arthur (could be romantic or platonic) and mentioned Gwen/Lancelot

Ever since Arthur learned about soulmates, he was fairly certain he didn’t have one.

See, most kids his age would always talk about feeling bumps on their knees when they were sitting still or hitting their elbows when not moving, but Arthur, he never got that. He just got his own constant aches and pains from being practically born in armour.

As soon as he was able to walk around on his own, he had a sword in his hand. The prince couldn’t remember a time before training was in his schedule.

As the young boy got older, he realised that perhaps, he just couldn’t feel a soulmate through his own permanent discomfort and that even if he does feel anything, he’d probably thought it was his own from training earlier.

Yet as he grew into an adult, any thoughts of soulmates were pushed far from his mind. Arthur had far more important matters to take care of.

Like currently, this idiot who thought it was smart to question what he did with his servants.

The boy, Merlin, appeared about his age, but stick thin. Arthur was confident he could take him. So, when the other did take a swing, the years of training kicked in as he pinned the right hook back behind Merlin’s back.

He leaned down to gloat when his own shoulder twinged. He’d have to check in with Gaius later. He must have overdone it on the training fields today.

“What, who do you think you are? The king?” Merlin jeered as he squirmed in Arthur’s hold, aggravating his shoulder more, and bringing him back to this current predicament.

Arthur leaned over slightly and countered, “No, I’m his son, Arthur.” He brought the poor idiot to his knees as guards came to collect him.

…

Arthur didn’t spare the peasant another thought, well he tried not to. He definitely didn’t lie awake that night thinking about how no one’s ever really stood up to him like that before other than maybe Morgana. He didn’t think about how he tried to help someone he never met before in a new town–because anyone who’s been in Camelot for even a few days would know who the prince was. And he absolutely wasn’t thinking about if he’d ever see the boy again.

Anyway, Arthur ran across Merlin the next day and decided to do the first thing he could to grab his attention. Call him out. “How's your knee-walking coming along?”

Of course, when the other didn’t rise to the bait, he had to push a little further. “Aw, don't run away!”

”From you?” Merlin asked, still not facing him.

And damn it, Arthur needed to see his face. He needed to figure out why this particular peasant won’t leave his thoughts alone. “Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb,” he tried prodding once more.

“Look, I've told you you're an ass,” Merlin finally turned to face the prince, “I just didn't realise you were a royal one.” That was the bite that’s been circling his head the last day! “Oh, what are you going to do? Get your daddy's men to protect you?”

Arthur laughed at the other’s fire. “I could take you apart with one blow.”

“I could take you apart with less than that.”

“Are you sure?” Arthur honestly wanted to see him try. He grabbed a pair of maces from a knight next to him. “Here you go.” He tossed Merlin one of them, to which the peasant dodged it, just barely missing him. That wasn’t necessarily his intention, but Merlin didn’t seem too shaken by it.

“Come on, then.” Arthur started swinging his mace, attempting to mildly intimidate the other. “I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth.”

“Wow,” Merlin dragged out, clearly unimpressed. “And how long have you been training to be a prat?”

The prince lowered his weapon, extremely caught off guard. “You can't address me like that,” he huffed.

“I'm sorry.” A part of Arthur was happy to hear that until Merlin continued. “H-How long have you been training to be a prat, My Lord?” Merlin smiled coyly up at him from the mocking bow.

Now, Arthur has to knock that smug look off his face.

Their fight lasted longer than both parties expected it to go. Arthur came out victorious, as intended. As Merlin was being hauled away by guards, again, Arthur stopped them. “Wait. Let him go.” The prince looked the other over. “He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one. There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it.”

He left quickly after that, adrenaline leaving him, and soon it caused his injuries to stand out in his mind. For how the fight went, everything seemed accounted for, though he couldn’t remember ever hitting his head.

…

Again, Merlin never crossed Arthur’s mind again for a long time.

That was until he saved Arthur’s life and his father made him the prince’s manservant. Now, Merlin’s everywhere. So much so that Arthur has trouble keeping track of him in the beginning. It doesn’t help that Merlin barely listened to or followed orders.

Honestly, sometimes Merlin felt like a bad luck charm. Whenever Arthur talked him into helping with training, he would always walk away more sore than any other practice.

Of course, then the idiot had to go and sacrifice himself by drinking poison for him.

As soon as he saw his servant falling, he could feel his own breath pick up as he raced to Merlin’s side.

He barely heard Gaius telling him to bring Merlin to the physician’s chambers over the roaring in his ears and the stifling heat of the banquet hall.

Arthur practically ran Merlin to the room, setting him down as carefully as he could. 

“Is he going to be alright?” the prince asked as he shrugged off his own overcoat.

“He's burning up,” Gaius commented while checking Merlin. 

Of course he is, Arthur thought, this castle is sweltering right now.

Guinevere returned with water and a towel for Merlin. “You can cure him, can't you Gaius?” she asked.

Gaius kept a close eye on the boy. “I won't know until I can identify the poison. Pass me the goblet.” Gwen did so. Arthur rolled his sleeves up on his tunic. “Ah. There's something stuck on the inside.”

“What is it?” Arthur asked, trying to keep the mild annoyance out of his voice. Now was the time to focus on Merlin, not his own petty discomfort.

“It looks like a flower petal of some kind,” Gaius said, examining the item he’d pulled from the chalice.

“His brow's on fire,” Gwen reported from where she was trying to help Merlin.

“Keep him cool; it'll help control his fever,” Gaius said as he pulled a book out and started to search.

Arthur wanted to help his servant but didn’t know how. It didn’t help that he was feeling unwell himself. Did he accidentally drink a bit of it? No, he’d be unconscious next to Merlin if that were true. 

Gaius broke him from his spiralling thoughts. “Ah. The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower.” He pointed to a picture in a book that Arthur came over his shoulder to look at. “It says here that someone poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower. It can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor. The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree.”

The prince made a face at a picture next to the flower. “That's not particularly friendly.”

“A Cockatrice.” Gaius explained. “It guards the forest. Its venom is potent. A single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in search of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive.”

Arthur started to head to the door, his mindset. “Sounds like fun.”

“Arthur, it's too dangerous,” Gaius called, stopping him momentarily.

“If I don't get the antidote, what happens to Merlin?” the prince asked, voice ice cold.

Gaius looked like he didn’t want to explain it, though he knew he must. “The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death. He may hold out for four, maybe five days, but not for much longer. Eventually, he will die.”

Arthur nodded and left the room, resolute in his quest.

…

“What's the point of having people to taste for you if you're going to get yourself killed anyway?”

Arthur did his best to keep his strides even with his father and not let any of his discomfort show. Asking for this was already a long shot. If he showed any signs of being ill, he would be immediately shut down. “I won't fail, no matter what you think.”

“Arthur, you are my only son and heir.” Uther seemed finished with this conversation already. “I can't risk losing you for the sake of some serving boy.”

“Oh, because his life's worthless?” Arthur retorted, currently getting angrier than he should be if he wanted any hope of going.

“No,” Uther cut him off, turning around to fully face the prince, “because it's worth less than yours.”

“I can save him.” Arthur wanted to bargain, but knew it would be wasted breath. Breath that was coming harder for him each hour. “Let me take some men.”

“No,” Uther responded with an air of finality, except Arthur was slowly realising that he would push or even break many boundaries for Merlin.

“We'll find the antidote and bring it back.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Arthur nearly yelled. He tried to keep his breathing steady and not let the exhaustion from fighting this verbal battle show any more than it is. His temper is nearly out of his control.

Uther looked his son over before replying in a low, level voice, “Because one day I will be dead and Camelot will need a king. A king who won’t get so worked up over a lowly peasant. And I'm not going to let you jeopardise the future of this kingdom over some fool's errand.”

Arthur adjusted his sword belt, willing himself to get a grip on his emotions for Merlin’s sake. “It's not a fool's errand,” he said calmly. “Gaius says that if we can get the antidote…”

“Oh, Gaius says?” the king interrupted, seeming to finally hit the edge of his own temper, “That's exactly what makes it so.”

“Please, Father.” Arthur can practically feel his friend’s life slipping through his fingers. “He saved my life. I can't stand by and watch him die.”

Uther met his child’s gaze once more. “Then don't look.” 

…

In the end, after his own conscious eating at him, the stifling feelings of being in the castle, and a rousing pep talk from Morgana, Arthur was able to set off in the middle of the night on a solo quest to save Merlin. 

As he reached the forest just outside of the citadel, Arthur was already regretting not bringing at least one other person. His breathing was far too ragged and fast, especially for the slightly relaxed pace he was going. He wanted to push himself further, afraid that any time dawdling could mean Merlin’s death. But if Arthur ended up passed out in the forest for several days from exhaustion from overexerting his ailing body, he wouldn’t be of much use to anyone.

After a needed break, he started his long journey again at dawn. As he shook the remnants of sleep off of him, he noticed a stinging, burning itch inside his left arm. Confused, the prince moved his clothing around before getting a good look at the strange, discoloured patch of skin with a raw red ring around it. 

His first thought was that something must have gotten under his gambeson when he was asleep. Thankfully, he had chosen to rest near a riverbed. He remembered a little of what Gaius had told him to do in this situation, so he tried to rinse off anything that might still be on top of the skin. The cool water should help soothe it a bit, yet when he ran the arm under water, nothing happened. The prince obviously could feel the water running as smooth as silk over his skin, but it somehow never touched the rash, for better or worse. 

When nothing seemed to happen, Arthur removed his arm and dried it off as best he could, surprisingly, the cloth didn’t bother it much either. He knew that he should figure out what exactly was going wrong with him, but Arthur knew he wouldn’t find answers in the forest. Since it wasn’t causing any current trouble, he decided it was best to push it aside for now and focus on the task at hand. With that thought, the prince finished gathering what little belongings he had on him, got on his horse, and continued onward.

However, as he made his way through the land, his mind kept drifting to his arm. What exactly could have caused it? It was likely magic from the unordinary behaviour. It didn’t appear to be killing him, at the very least not quickly. As he began walking, trying to remember the way he was shown, a stray thought crossed his mind: What if it’s your soulmate? Arthur stopped momentarily, caught completely off guard. He hasn’t given any real, deep thought to soulmates in likely a decade. He shook his head, clearing it. He had long since accepted that he didn’t have a soulmate, not even a platonic one. The thought that one would show itself now, so late in Arthur’s life was almost laughably ridiculous.

Quiet sobbing broke the prince from his musings.

…

The task of picking a flower from a cave turned into a challenge harder than just finding the damn place. The random vengeful witch and quickly worsening health was not helping. 

But, after heaving and pulling himself through the spider-filled cave, Arthur completed his task. Barely staying awake atop his horse, he rode as quickly for Camelot as he could, only to get immediately hauled off to the dungeons by reluctant knights.

“You disobeyed me,” his father bellowed.

“Of course I did,” Arthur responded, leaning against the wall of his cell. He couldn’t hide the fatigue anymore. “A man's life was at stake. Do not let Merlin die because of something I did.” Despite barely staying on his feet, he kept his voice fairly level.

Uther eyed his son up and down, carefully examining him, what for, Arthur couldn’t figure out. “Why do you care so much? The boy is just a servant, and you’re clearly much worse off for it.” He motioned towards a patch of Athur’s exposed chest where the rash had climbed to. Suddenly self-conscious, he adjusted his shirt slightly and pushed more of the sweat out of his eyes.

The prince pushed himself from the wall, staggering slightly, though doing his best to put himself at his father’s eye level. “He knew the danger he was putting himself in, and he knew what would happen if he drank from that goblet, but he did it anyway. He saved my life.” Arthur drew a shaky breath. His breathing seemed to have been progressively getting slower since around the time he’d been placed in his cell. “There's more. There was a woman at the mountain. She knew I was there for the flower. I don't think it was Bayard who tried to poison me.”

A strange look crossed Uther’s face, but Arthur was too far gone to try and decipher it. “Of course it was.”

A chill ran down Arthur’s spine and his knees tried to shake. He knew this conversation needed to end soon for his own sake. Slowly pulling out the Morteus, he said, “Gaius knows what to do with it.” Uther moved across the room and grabbed the flower. Arthur could have wept with relief. Merlin would be safe. Another chill tried to chase away his fever causing him to shudder as he continued, “Put me in the stocks for a week, a month even, I don't care. Just make sure it gets to him. I'm begging you.” He stared his father down, hoping the sincerity and attempt at platitude would work.

Uther began to walk away and Arthur truly thought it had worked before his father crushed the flower in his hand.

“No!” Arthur yelled, reaching for the flower, only managing to tangle his weakened legs together and crumple to the ground.

The king looked down at his son as he said, “You have to learn there's a right and a wrong way of doing things. I'll see you're let out in a week. Then you can find yourself another servant.”

Arthur tried to pull himself up and towards his retreating hope as Uther left the cell and dropped the flower remains just outside of it. The guards shut and lock the door behind the king. Arthur crawled his way over to the bars, reaching for the flower with the little energy he had left. With the tips of his fingers, he grabbed it and brought the treasure inside with him. Unsure how to proceed, he cradled Merlin’s hope close to his chest as he passed out against the bars of his cell.

…

Arthur woke to the metal he was leaning on getting pulled out from under him. He didn’t even have the strength to catch himself. He just let himself fall to the cold, hard ground. Someone hovered over him expectantly, so Arthur reluctantly opened his eyes to find Guinevere staring nervously down at him. He tried to think of something, but his brain was not firing very fast.

Quickly enough though, he motioned near him with a languid wave of his hand saying, “Set it down over there.”

Gwen rushed to comply as Arthur slowly crawled to follow. As the plate was set down, Gwen looked over at Arthur expectantly.

“Thank you,” the prince said, pointedly before looking down at the plate. His stomach rolled at the mere thought of food. He carefully picked at a few of the pieces, sliding the Morteus within.

“Wait a minute,” he called to a retreating Guinevere. He shifted to the side giving her easy access to the plate and antidote while still trying to appear nonplussed.

“I couldn't possibly eat this, it's disgusting,” he attempted to scoff, but it ended up turning into a coughing fit at the end. Guinevere moved to help him, yet he waved her own. After a minute, he continued, “The state it's in, I'm not sure it's fit for anyone.”

A sparkle lit up in Gwen’s eyes right before she bowed her head, grabbing the plate once more. She quickly made her way out of the cell. Arthur ran one hand over his face, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of the way while keeping his other hand close to his chest, keeping up appearances and all, then let his head fall back against the wall. Merlin would be safe. With one last shuddering breath, he happily slipped unconscious.

…

Arthur awoke the next day, still in his cold, dank cell, though, somehow, miraculously better. All of his ailments just vanished from the fever to rash to fatigue. The only thing left was hunger from refusing his food yesterday. Of course, his father still sent Gaius to check him over, not knowing about Arthur’s improved condition and likely wouldn’t believe it. Arthur was remorseful to take the physician away from Merlin so soon; however, he was grateful for anyone able to give him any insight into how his manservant might be doing. 

Gaius began his examination, seemingly unsure of what he was looking for.

“How’s he doing?” Arthur started

A small smile tugged at Gaius’s lips as he continued working on the prince. “He’s much better thanks to you, sire. Take a deep breath for me, now.”

Arthur complied, happy that he actually could now. “And everything seems alright? Nothing lingering?”

The physician stepped away from him. “I believe I should be asking you that, sire. You appear to be in perfect health while the king talked as though you were on death’s door.”

Arthur shrugged. “I can’t explain it, Gaius. I was feverish, had chills, rashes everywhere, and horrible fatigue. Then I woke this morning, and it was gone. First the light and now this,” he muttered the last bit to himself.

“What was that, your highness?” 

Arthur looked over at Gaius. “Just, when I was struggling in the cave, someone knew I was in trouble and sent a light to guide the way. Now, I’m in perfect health after nearly dying. It seems like someone is watching over me, keeping me from harm.”

Gaius turned away from the prince, a troubled expression crossing over his face.

Arthur hastily jumped to add, “Not that I would condone any magic in Camelot, especially against the prince.”

“Of course not, sire. I would never suggest such a thing.” Gaius responded while rummaging in his medicine bag. After a moment, he pulled out a blue vial that looked just like one of Morgana’s sleeping draughts. “Now, take this right before bed just to make sure everything is out of your system.”

Arthur took the bottle and nodded in thanks as the physician left.

He took the drink as instructed and swiftly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

As Uther praised Gaius for his miracle cure while backhandedly telling Arthur off for doing something so stupid and reckless, the prince felt a phantom pain hit his shin and run down his leg.

…

Arthur was pointedly not thinking about soulmates. The problem was, they just kept coming up –like some other smart-mouthed nuisance in his life. This one, however, he couldn’t just send to muck out his stables when he’s annoyed with it, no matter how much he wished to.

About a week or so after he was released for saving Merlin, Guinevere found her soulmate. Arthur would admit that he felt a bit bad for the trouble he must have put the poor girl through when Lancelot first came to Camelot. He wished there was a way that he could have kept the pair together. He accidentally overheard Morgana telling Gwen that she could leave and be with the almost-knight if that’s what she wanted, but Guinevere put her foot down, saying that Camelot was her home and she wouldn’t leave it. That didn’t stop her from crying as she watched Lancelot leave, staring out over the horizon long after he was gone.

Arthur found himself rubbing his wrist as he watched her before shaking his head and walking away.

The prince has noticed some… things of his own.

Randomly he’ll wake up with bruises forming rings around his wrists and a light red circle around his neck. Usually, a backache accompanies it as well. He can never figure out the source. He just wears higher collars and longer sleeves, while working through the pain.

That quiet voice in the back of his mind always has an answer though Arthur refused to entertain it.

There are also the burn marks. They weren’t on his fingertips or even his hands, but lightly across his forearms and scattered around his lower legs. He would know if he himself had gotten them, and they started to tell a worrying story.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that because soon after he met Sophia.

Sophia drowned out that quiet voice.

She drowned out a lot of voices.

She drowned Ar… 

…

“Arthur?”

The prince groaned from where he was lying in bed. He was in extraordinary pain. He had a headache cleaving his head in half, making the room feel like it was swirling, as well as horrid, shooting pains down his spine. “What happened?” he moaned. He half opened his eyes before closing them with another groan as he was greeted by blinding light. “Where am I?”

“Can you remember anything?” A voice that sounds like Merlin murmurs next to him.

Arthur slowly tried to sit up, grumbling and grabbing his face, “Oh! Oh, my head! There was a girl. Sophia, she...I asked my father something about her, I asked him…” He bolted up in bed, immediately rejecting the action, sighing and dropping his aching head in his palms. “What was I thinking?” He would yell if it wouldn’t send his head ringing.

“Well, we did wonder,” Merlin continued. “Especially when you eloped with her last night.”

Arthur peered at the offending manservant between his fingers. “I did what?” he growled.

“Merlin had to bring you back to Camelot,” Gaius stated.

“I don't recall any of this.” Arthur massaged his head, afraid this was going to somehow make the migraine worse.

“Must've been some blow,” Gaius continued.

“What blow?” Other than to my ego, he chose to leave unsaid. Arthur finally lifted his head fully from his hands, looking at the pair.

“Well…er…when I caught up with you, I couldn't persuade you to return, you were beyond reason. So I had to make you.” Merlin stated, completely serious.

The prince groaned once again, flopping back on his bed. A mistake since it sent his head swimming again. He ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, hoping it would help. It did not. “What did you use, my chainmail?”

“What?” Merlin questioned, sounding innocent, except Arthur didn’t believe it.

“My head is tearing itself in two, I can barely think with how the room is swaying, and my back is shooting fire through my spine. I have no idea someone like Merlin could hit me hard enough to do this much damage.”

“Uh… I only used a lump of wood, I swear.”

Arthur moved his hands away from his eyes to see Gaius staring Merlin down. Maybe Arthur wasn’t too far from the truth after all. He pointed to Merlin. “No one…can know about this–” the prince switched to Gaius “–any of it. Is that understood?” He tried to appear intimidating, but from the smirk trying to worm its way onto Merlin’s face, he wasn’t succeeding. He sighed into his bedding.

…

Soulmates actually left Arthur’s mind for a while between helping druid boys escape execution and unkillable coming to try and challenge him. 

Strangely enough, they came back while he was far away from the throne, in Ealdor. 

He noticed as he trained the men that afterward, they each had someone to go to, someone who knew exactly what to do, where exactly it hurt before it was ever spoken aloud.

Arthur rubbed his sore shoulder from showing sword-swinging techniques all day and wondered if he would ever find anything like that.

The next day, he guided the men in sword basics once more when he felt a scrap against his cheek. Arthur immediately looked up and around, for what, he wasn’t sure. No one was around to have hit him. Was he looking for the threat?

He brushed it off for the rest of the day until that night.

The group from Camelot was gathered around Hunith’s table, eating what she could provide for dinner, when something caught Arthur’s eye. Merlin turned his head to talk to one of the ladies and the candlelight shined against a new cut.

“Merlin, when’d you get that on your jaw?” the prince asked.

Merlin covered it with his hand and chuckled. “Oh, that? I got nicked by one of the men during training today. Nothing I won’t live through.” He smiled brightly at Arthur before getting back into his food. Something tightened in Arthur’s chest that he couldn’t explain.

That quiet voice in the back of Arthur’s head had a lot to say about that.

Unconsciously, Arthur started to pay more attention to Merlin in the days leading up to the battle. He tried to tell himself that it was because they were forced into temporary close quarters, but there is only so far you can fool yourself.

Merlin was very good at changing out of sight. By the time Arthur was awake, Merlin was dressed and the servant was always the first into sleep clothes.

Arthur caught flashes of skin here and there. He catalogued them as quickly as he could, memorising them and only trying to see if they were replicated on his own body late into the night.

When the actual battle came around, the prince was acutely aware of every pain he was feeling, his own and his other half’s.

Arthur figured by the time they had successfully driven out Kanen and his men, he would have a better understanding of everything and maybe even try to talk to Merlin.

Then, Will got hurt.

…

Arthur knew that Merlin would need some space and time. Arthur figured he could use that as well to gather more data.

He tried to take Merlin hunting to clear their heads.

That didn’t end well.

Except, the more time it took surprisingly the more Arthur got excited. 

As he got more and more information of little things connecting him and Merlin, the giddier he was. There really was someone out there for Arthur. And it was his best friend–even if he would never tell the other that to his face.

Arthur started thinking of ways to tell Merlin. Maybe just slip it into a random conversation one day. Maybe bring the other into his room for a private meal and talk about the great work Merlin’s done for him the past year. Maybe just drop his own hints until Merlin figured it out, though that may take a while.

He had accepted it enough now, that it wouldn’t distract him too much from his daily work. Well, ordinary things wouldn’t, at least. Currently, Arthur was training with the knights while his father and Morgana were off on a visit to the lady’s father’s grave.

He was in the middle of a sparring match with Leon when it hit him. What hit him, he wasn’t sure, just one moment, he was holding his own just fine against his friend. The next, he was flat on his back, groaning, his ears were ringing, his muscles were pulled taut, and a buzzing sensation was running through his body. 

When he could finally loosen his muscles enough to open his eyes and look around, he realised he was in the physician’s quarters. He must have been out for at least a little while to get here.

Arthur heard the door bang open. He attempted to get a glimpse of the person but still couldn’t move very well.

Thankfully, Gaius saw the attempt and called, “Sire? Are you awake?”

Garbled sounds and moans came from the patient cot. The prince’s mouth hadn’t fully regained feeling or function.

The physician came over and helped him sit up slightly. Arthur attempted to lightly move the muscles he could feel. When he could finally speak mostly clearly again, Arthur asked, “Where’s Merlin?”

Gaius looked up, confused and concerned from where he was examining the other. “He had to run an errand for me, sire. He should be back shortly. Can I pass along a message?”

“No,” Arthur groaned out as he continued to stretch out around Gaius’s probing. 

Now, the prince knew that he wasn’t always the sharpest sword in the rack; however, he could see the picture these pieces were making. And for once, he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Of course, Arthur still held that excitement of possibly having Merlin as his other half very near and dear to his heart. The issue was then, why the hell is this happening to Merlin?

As Gaius worked on Arthur’s body, he let his mind drift. He thought about the burn marks marring his body, about how badly he hurt after–what he was told–was a simple blow to the head after Sophia, and now about this lightning strike in the middle of a clear day. Who would be doing this to Merlin? Why Merlin of all people? Why has it only gotten this bad after Merlin came to Camelot?

Arthur doesn’t know how to even get close to any of these answers. Merlin wouldn’t give him a straight answer if the prince asked. Clearly, Gaius won’t say anything since he’s hiding whatever Merlin’s doing right now.

Eventually, Gaius deemed Arthur well enough to go about his day, but it was useless. He was completely unfocused for the rest of the day, barely acknowledging anyone who tried to interact with him. He didn’t even see Merlin that night. As he went to sleep, he wondered if that might be a good thing. 

At this point, Arthur almost wished he was wrong just so he could stop hearing Merlin’s screams every time he traced over one of his scars.

…

Arthur still hadn’t found it within himself to tell Merlin anything before they were sent to kill the Questing Beast.

As the beast swept its claw against Arthur, he heard Merlin scream in pain right before he hit the wall and lost consciousness. 

I would do anything to keep Merlin from feeling this pain, was his last thought before darkness took him.

The prince woke to a dull ache covering his body–focused around his left pectoral, utter exhaustion, and his father hovering over him.

He made a promise to himself right then that he’d have a real conversation with Merlin about everything the moment he had the chance.

Merlin never stopped by to see him for two days.

That night, Arthur was pouring himself a drink when his servant finally arrived. “Ah, Merlin,” the prince greeted the other. He was trying for calm and collected while his head was firing about twelve different alarms.

“How are you?” Merlin asked, fidgeting a bit.

Arthur looked him over. Something was up, he would just have to slowly figure it out. It wouldn’t do to have this conversation while Merlin was so tightly wound up. “Good.”

“I'm pleased.”

Arthur took his cup and sat down. “Yes. I owe it all to Gaius.” And you, he wanted to add. He knew there was no way Merlin just sat by while Gaius did everything.

A pause hung in the air and Arthur wondered if now was the chance to get anything out of Merlin when the servant beat him to it. “I need to talk to you.”

Hesitant about where this conversation was going to go, Arthur deflected with his usual tendencies. “You still haven't got it yet, have you? I decide when we need to talk.”

“Not today,” Merlin replied with a dark air of finality.

The prince looked the other over once more. Just a little more goading and something good would snap. “I sometimes wonder if you know who I am,” he teased.

“Oh, I know who you are,” Merlin chimed back, just as quickly.

“Good.”

Merlin finally left the door he’d been sulking in front of while taking the bait. “You're a prat. And a royal one.” A smile tugged at his lips, and oh how Arthur had missed that.

He chuckled lightly, trying to hide his own growing grin. “Are you ever going to change, Merlin?”

“No, you'd get bored.” Arthur winced, his shoulder flaring up and noticed his servant twitch at his side. He rubbed it, trying to soothe it for both of them. “But promise me this, if you get another servant, don't get a bootlicker.”

Arthur looked up, surprised at Merlin. “If this is you trying to leave your job…”

“No,” Merlin cut him off. “I'm happy to be your servant. Till the day I die.”

Then why does this feel like a goodbye, he wanted to say, instead, “Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times…” Arthur shook his head, fondly.

“Well, I know you,” Merlin jumped to say. Arthur turned his head up, eagerly awaiting the manservant’s next words. “And you're a great warrior. One day, you'll be a great king.”

Arthur felt something sharp burrow between his ribs, like a small dagger. “That's very kind of you,” he replied, hoping now would be his opening to change the subject. His gut was telling him it was now or never.

“But you must learn to listen as well as you fight,” Merlin continued.

The dagger twisted inside. “Any other pointers?” he asked.

“No. That's it.” Both men seemed to take a breath. Arthur was about to start the conversation back up again when Merlin finished, “Just...don't be a prat.” With that, Merlin turned on his heels and left. Arthur tried to call after him, but it was no use. Arthur felt the dagger get pulled out, leaving him feeling empty.

It was getting late, the next day. Arthur had asked just about everyone he’d seen to send Merlin his way, yet no one had appeared to have seen him. The prince was still not allowed to move around much, so he was stuck in his room with nothing except his thoughts and horrible paperwork.

He was sitting at his desk, trying to read the words for the eighth time when he felt the first set of flames. It was hard to tell what exactly it was. There was just a light burn, like standing too close to an open fire with bare skin. It set Arthur’s teeth on edge and made his whole body tense. What the hell is he doing now? he thought.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, a whole minute at most, before the fireball hit. This pain was unimaginable heat and sent all of his nerves into overdrive for a second before it was too much and they all switched off. That was about when he passed out.

A servant found him sometime later, passed out at his desk. Arthur woke with a start, looking around, the only thing on his mind was find Merlin. “Where’s Merlin?” he immediately asked the other. 

The servant jumped slightly and Arthur realised that in his haste, he growled at the poor person. “Uh… I don’t know, sire. As far as I’m aware, no one has seen him at all today.”

Arthur nodded, bringing awareness to his chest. There was a numb sort of pain settling there, which he knew from Gaius’s lectures couldn’t mean anything good. “Just, make sure everyone knows that he is to come straight here once you find him.”

The servant bowed. “Yes, your highness.” And scurried out of the room.

Arthur watched them go and noticed a tray on his table that wasn’t there before. Ah. The servant must have been bringing him dinner and thought he had fallen asleep at his desk. Well, he thought, better that than the truth. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. He and Merlin were going to have words and the slippery servant wasn’t getting out of it this time.

…

Arthur was nodding off in his chair when he heard his chamber door open.

Merlin’s head poked in, looking wide-eyed and worried like something was going to attack him. Arthur cleared his throat causing the other to jump.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nice of you to finally show up.”

Merlin had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. What did you need me for, Sire?” 

Arthur stood and walked around the servant, examining him up and down. The prince had seen a limp when Merlin walked in and could easily see the exhaustion in his servant’s posture. Though the second Arthur started staring, Merlin shrunk away and adjusted himself to try and hide the injuries better. When Arthur was done was his observations, he stared Merlin in the eye and ordered, “Take off your shirt.”

Merlin reeled back, clearly surprised and tried to hide by responding with a smirk, “Wow, so forward my lord.”

The insinuation sent a flush to Arthur’s cheeks, yet he wouldn’t be deterred. “Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.”

That really confused the manservant. He took a few steps away from the prince. “Alright, I was joking before, but I’m not taking it off.”

Now, was Arthur’s next move childish, absolutely, but he was tired of dancing around the issue, tired of constantly fearing for Merlin while unable to know what was causing harm. 

So, Arthur tackled Merlin. Yet, Merlin wouldn’t go down without a fight. The pair ended up rolling on the floor, fighting each other like children, until Arthur finally got a good enough fist full of the bottom of Merlin’s shirt and pulled it up as far as he could, and pinned the servant down by straddling his hips. “Arthur!” Merlin yelled, muffled by the fabric shoved over his face.

Except, Arthur wasn’t listening. He was staring down at the worst burn mark he’s ever seen. Merlin’s chest was completely charred in the centre with red, blistered skin surrounding it. Arthur’s hand hovered over the blackened skin, unable to look away as tears filled his eyes. His worst fears and greatest fantasies were right in front of him, covered in dirt, scars, and burns, trying to hide his face in his shirt. 

“Merlin, I–” Arthur had a list of things he wanted to say–had planned to say–in this moment, yet he couldn’t say a word.

Merlin was the one to speak first. He moved the shirt down enough to whisper, unable to look the royal in the eye, “Arthur, how did you know about this?”

Arthur huffed a small laugh. “I would think after all this time in Camelot, you would’ve figured out the prince is your soulmate.”

Merlin jumped slightly underneath him, the floor apparently becoming very interesting. “So, you know?”

“Merlin,” Arthur stared at the other, trying to will their eyes to meet. Slowly, Merlin did. “I’ve known for a while now. I just want to know why?”

Merlin looked away once more and Arthur wanted to just force the servant to face him. “There are problems,” Merlins started slowly, “sometimes, that aren’t able to be solved with a sword and shield.”

Arthur didn’t know where Merlin was going with this, patiently waiting for him to continue. 

“Sometimes,”–it almost felt like pulling teeth at this point– “special forces need to be involved.”

The prince gazed down, expectantly, as Merlin squirmed under the scrutiny. “So, you’re saying that you are these… special forces?”

Merlin sighed and muttered something under his breath before all the candles in the room momentarily jumped higher. Arthur jumped as well, whipping around to find the danger when Merlin gently grabbed his face and forced their eyes to meet. 

Oh. Arthur saw the gold trickle out of those big, blue, tearful eyes. “I–I have magic, Arthur.” Merlin fought to keep his voice steady as more tears rushed to those beautiful eyes. “I only use it for you, I swear. I–I never hurt people, unless they try to hurt you first, a–and I’m really careful about it, I promise. Just, please, don’t kill me, not for my sake, but yours. Just–Just say the word and I’ll leave. Well, I won’t leave, but you won’t see me again, I truly sw–” Merlin’s ramblings were cut off as Arthur threw himself down onto the smaller man. 

Merlin broke off into hiccupping sobs as he clung to Arthur’s back for dear life. 

Arthur held the other close, tight, and protectively. He only heard about half of what Merlin said and it would take a while for him to fully process everything, but he knew what he felt like doing and what Merlin needed. He carefully threaded his fingers through the other’s dark hair, massaging softly as Merlin seemed to be relaxing slightly. 

“It’s okay Merlin,” Arthur murmured into the sorcerer’s shoulder. “We both know I wouldn’t last a day without you, soulmate or not.” That startled a laugh out of Merlin and Arthur smiled softly.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.

“Of course,” Arthur responded, knowing he would do anything to protect the shaking man in his arms.

[runnning-outof-time]

They Said You Were Gone | Arthur Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written as a celebration for me hitting 500 followers

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N)'s told that her fiancé, Arthur Shelby, is dead. Hell, she even attended his funeral. So she was a little bit confused when he showed up at their home one night.

Warnings: language, violence (typical to series), mentions of death, spoilers for season 4

Word Count: 2333

A/N: So I decided to pick one of my prompts and join in on my celebration as my little thank you for 500 Followers (I noticed that I just hit 600 Followers the other day, which I already have something planned for). I hope you enjoy! :)

———

Arthur had been gone from his seat for a long time. The other ladies that (Y/N) was sitting with didn't care to notice, but she had been unable to pull her eyes from where Tommy was sitting next to an empty chair for some time now. Something didn't feel right. There was something about the energy in the crowded room of people watching the boxing match that was off. But (Y/N) couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

She then watched as Tommy stood from his seat and exited the arena, taking the same path that Arthur had. This made (Y/N) calm down slightly because she just had that feeling that Tommy was going to look for her fiancé.

Some more time passed, and Johnny Dogs came over to the women. (Y/N) perked up, thinking that she'd be getting some information about Arthur's whereabouts. But instead, Johnny made his way to Polly and whispered something into her ear. An unreadable expression formed on the older woman's face as she slowly stood up and exited the row of chairs with Johnny Dogs. That left (Y/N) sitting with Lizzie Stark, who was still too engrossed in the fight to notice that the woman sitting to her right was having an internal crisis.

(Y/N) tried to focus on the fight going on, but she couldn't get the sinking feeling to leave her. Something was wrong. It had to be. The crowd around her went wild as Bonnie was declared the winner of the fight, and the pandemonium continued until Tommy Shelby made his way onto the stage. In one swift movement, he pulled his revolver out from under his coat and fired it three times up into the air. Cheers were replaced with screams and gasps as the room fell silent.

"My brother is dead," was all (Y/N) heard him say before his voice and the shocked reactions of the crowd around her were replaced by a high-pitched, ringing noise. Things seemed to go in slow motion. Lizzie was hugging onto her within seconds, knowing the pain that the other woman must've been feeling. Then Polly was by her side as she tried to usher the two other women out of the row and into the lobby of the event hall. (Y/N) didn't even realize that she was crying until she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I have to see him, Pol," (Y/N) choked out as the three women came to a stop in a quiet corner of the lobby area.

"You shouldn't. It's not a good sight," Polly advised against it, a solemn look on her face as she shook her head.

"He's my fiancé. I need to see him!" (Y/N) insisted, not taking no for an answer.

"Tommy probably had the guys take him away. He wouldn't want to leave him laying around for too long," Lizzie tried to add some sense into the conversation.

"He can't be dead," (Y/N) sobbed, hiding her face with her hands as she fell into Lizzie's embrace, "he's not dead," she repeated, hoping that it would become true with the more that she said it. Nobody said anything back to her. They let her react in the way that felt natural to her. Because Arthur Shelby had been killed, and there was no way that anyone, or any amount of words, could reverse that.

——

A black veil covered (Y/N)'s face as she stood in the windy field with the rest of the Shelby family.

A wagon containing Arthur's body and some of his possessions stood in the middle of the open field. Tommy and Polly had told her that she should keep some of the things that used to be his; that she would want to hold onto them. They would help her keep his memory alive. So she gave them his lucky pocket watch, the one he wasn't wearing the night he died, a few of his rings, and a picture of the two of them that was taken the night that he asked her to marry him.

She remembered that day like it was yesterday. He took her to the pictures and sat through a show that she knew he would consider to be awful, but he did it with a smile on his face and his hand in hers. He then took her out to dinner, at the same place where they ate together for the very first time. It was there that he dropped to his knee and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. They had decided that they'd wait a little bit before having the wedding. Neither of them wanted to rush into it. They were simply enjoying their time living together. Now she was standing at his funeral.

She kept her gaze focused on the ground as Jeremiah said some final words before he and Tommy stepped forward to light a match and throw it onto the logs placed below the wagon. The gas-soaked wood went up in flames quickly, and soon enough, the wagon itself was burning. (Y/N) couldn't hold in her sobs as she watched her life burn to the ground. Ada came to her side and wrapped her in a hug, but it didn't do much in consoling her.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy started as he and Lizzie came over to where she and Ada were standing. At this point, her sobs had reduced to sniffles because she didn't really have much left anymore. "(Y/N), we're sorry it had to happen like this," he tried his best to offer her his condolences. "You...you'll still get his share of the company to make sure that you are able to live comfortably on your own."

She wanted nothing of it. "No, Tommy. I don't want your money. All I had was your brother, and this stupid fucking feud took him from me! If I don't see another member of the Shelby family until the day that I am on my deathbed, that would still be a day too early!" her pained words came out as screams mixed with cries, and she ended her statement by turning from the self-proclaimed leader of the family to leave the vicinity.

She made her way back to her home in Small Heath. The home that was only supposed to be temporary. Where she and Arthur were supposed to stay until this shit blew over, and then they would be able to head out to the country again. Now she'd be going back alone. She wasn't sure if she could even do that.

——

(Y/N) couldn't tell how many days had passed since the funeral. She'd been locked in her house since she returned from the desolate field. Polly, Lizzie, and Ada had been around to check on her, but (Y/N) never let them into her home. They simply asked their questions from the other side of the door and were met with silence. (Y/N) didn't want to speak to them. She didn't want to do anything. She spent most of her time sitting on the chair in front of the fireplace. The only times she moved was to eat and use the bathroom. It felt like she was a shell of the person that she used to be. And she'd get terrible reminders of how her life was just a few weeks ago when she'd look up to the mantle to see pictures of her and Arthur. She just couldn't bear to take them down though. He still meant so much to her.

It had gotten dark now, but (Y/N) had no intention of going to bed. Her night would be just like the rest: her sitting on the couch until the sun came up. Sometimes she slept. Sometimes she just stared at the fire. She had a feeling that the latter would happen tonight. She'd been feeling jittery all day for no apparent reason. It was like she needed to cry, but she couldn't get any tears to come out. So she sat on the couch in a constant state of anxiety, knowing full well that it wasn't good for her, but at the same time not having enough control of the situation to stop it.

The thought that was traveling through her mind for most of the night was what she would do next. She couldn't stay in Small Heath. It wasn't home for her. She'd met Arthur in London, where she had been living for several years. She also couldn't bear to go back to her and Arthur's country home. Too many good memories were tied up into that house; memories that she couldn't face alone. So she'd go back to London, maybe. Or go to a new city entirely. Maybe she'd even leave the country...travel to the United States, or Ireland. She just needed to find a way to start again. To leave all of the pain behind before it really started to hurt her.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the door to the house open, or the person who entered through it walk over to her. In fact, she didn't know that someone else was in the room until they put their hand on her shoulder. "Have you been awake all night?" the voice that (Y/N) thought she'd never be able to hear again asked. In a second, her head snapped to the side and she was met with Arthur, standing next to her with his physical hand on her shoulder. She had to have been dreaming. He was dead...right?

"I'm dreaming right now, aren't I?" she decided to ask outright before she got her hopes up. There was no way he was actually standing in front of her right now.

"You're not dreaming, love. Although you look like you really need some sleep," he told her, his hand squeezing her shoulder slightly.

That was all she needed to spring into action. She literally jumped up onto the couch and over the arm of it to wrap her arms around Arthur's neck and hug him tightly. Arthur responded by wrapping his arms around her frame so that he'd be able to hold her tight against his body. (Y/N) was sobbing into the material of his suit jacket, although the tears rolling down her cheeks now were from her happiness.

"I thought you were dead, Arthur. They told me that you were dead. They said that you were gone," she cried as she clung to him like her life depended on it. She was never letting him go again.

"I'm not dead, darling. They needed to make the Changretta's think that they'd killed me...that the vendetta would be finished," Arthur explained as he kissed her temple, "the vendetta is finished now. Luca Changretta's dead. I fired the bullet that killed him."

"I'm so happy you're alive," she said as she finally dropped down to her feet, her hands going up to hold onto his face as they looked into each other's eyes. "Tommy and Polly they...they made me believe that you were dead. I was so fucking mad at them because they didn't even let me see you. I'm still mad at them for not telling me even after it happened," she said as she caressed his face. It was like she needed to have her hands on him because touching him helped to confirm his realness.

"You've taken off your ring," Arthur observed then as he took her hands into his, "have you already met another man?" he asked, the grin pulling up the left corner of his lips showing that he was joking.

"No, I haven't," (Y/N) shook her head, "I just couldn't bear to look at it anymore. It reminded me too much of you," she said, taking one hand out of his so that she could wipe the tears from her eyes. "I can't believe that this happened. That it took so long for you to come back. You scared the shit out of me, Arthur!" she exclaimed then as she smacked him on the chest. Arthur was quick and grabbed hold of her hands before she could smack him anymore, holding them tight against his chest.

"I'm sorry that I had to do that, (Y/N). I won't let anything of the sort happen again, alright?" he promised her, his eyes locked onto hers. "And I still want to marry you...that is if you still want to marry me."

"Of course I still want to marry you, you bastard," she smiled through her tears as she pulled him into another hug.

"We should do it tomorrow. Not waste another day. I'll get Jeremiah to officiate it," Arthur came up with a plan then, making (Y/N) pull back to look at him with shock on her features.

"You'd want to?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes. I don't want another day to go by where I'm not married to you, (Y/N)," he told her.

"Let's get married tomorrow then," she grinned as he took her face into his hands and kissed her passionately. "I love you, Arthur," she said as they pulled away.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he repeated the sentiment with a smile on his face, pulling her into another embrace. "We should probably get some sleep. Our wedding's going to be in a couple hours," he stated after they'd been embracing for a few minutes. It must've been at least four or five in the morning at that point.

"We should," (Y/N) agreed with a smile before she let him lead them up the steps and to their bedroom. Just moments ago, (Y/N) thought that Arthur was dead. Now, he was alive and back by her side. Better yet, in a few hours, they'd be getting married.

———

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @the-anxious-youth @magicalxdaydream @mrsalwayswrite @zablife

MASTERLIST

[ellie-rosewood]

Paul Verlaine random headcanons (because not many write about him)💛

• Long multiple volumed novels bore him, so he reads short stories and novels.

• Doesn't like movies because he knows all too well most emotional situations are a lie.

• Chuuya brings him wine and they can talk for hours.

• Don't let his appearance decieve you. Play some good rock 'n roll and he'll dance better than Michael Jackson ever could.

• He might listen to Indila once in a while.

• He never learnt to cook because he always imagined the vegetables as his enemies to be killed.

• He HATES going to the doctor when he gets sick.

• When ever his pupils fail, he complains harshly  in French to calm down but advices them gently after.

• Still doesn't mean he'll go easy on them. He is a very strict teacher.

• He once allowed Gin and Kyouka to brush and braid his hair.

• He doesn't like it when anyone except Chuuya comes to see him unannounced.

• He never said to any of his pupils about his past, afraid they'll see him the same way some comrades of his during the war did.

• During the war hardly anyone called him by his name because he wasn't a real human.

• He takes cold showers almost daily, to clear his head.

• Rimbaud set him on a blind date once. It went smoothly... sort of.

• Paul may look and seem tough but all you need is to tell him he is handsome and he blushes.

• "Not something I hear everyday..." or "I... I didn't... thank you."

• He is mostly polite unlike Chuuya who curses all the time.

• During the fog (Dead Apple), he kept walking around in the shelter nervously. He was worried for Chuuya.

• Will he be fine? Is he safe?

• When he decided to grow his hair long, Rimbaud complained, "It'll be easy to grab."

• But Paul was too stubborn.

• Which made Arthur grow his hair that long too.

• Paul practiced different styles of braids on Arthur's hair before doing it on his.

• Whenever Arthur shivered from being too cold, he'd drape anything that'll warm him on his shoulders. (In his first few days of freedom, he once ripped the curtains.)

• There are times when he stares in the mirror, places a hand over his heart and smile.

• "Thank you for the second chance... I'm only sorry that you are not here."

• He hopes he can find a reason someday to step outside, and so does Chuuya.

• Chuuya loves to see how Paul will feel if he saw how strong he is now.

• Spoiler: Paul feels happy for him.

• He likes sweet deserts with tea.

• Some nights he has messed up nightmares of Guivre, Arthur's death and Faunus tormenting him.

• When he wakes up he can't sleep again, afraid to see those nightmares again.

• Cat or dog person? He likes both!

• There are times when he speaks French with Mori and the boss begs him to speak Japanese.

• Elise likes him a lot but Paul feels awekward around her. He has no idea how to treat a child properly.

Might make a part two... if I recieve an as ask for it!

[dramayeoja]

Goblin ❣︎ 도깨비

Kim Shin, an undefeated war general, is ultimately killed by a jealous young king named Wang Yeo. After death, Shin is revived by the gods—but his revival is by no means miraculous. He becomes a 도깨비 (dokkaebi, goblin), and is cursed. He will have to pay for all the lives he took in battle by living alone in immortality, witnessing everyone he's ever loved, die. Remaining lodged in his chest is the very sword that killed him. There is only person who can see that sword, and draw from his heart so that he can finally rest in peace: his bride... whom he's yet to meet.

Things get spoilery under the cut—you've been warned! ;)

Chipper, yeah? Haha so, right off the bat, the premises of Goblin remind me of like, a much more morbid version of the legend of King Arthur. You know, a man draws a sword from stone to prove himself the greatest king in all of Britain? Yeah. Just to be clear: this is a good thing (imo). Like, I personally think this is just such a cool idea for a drama 😍

Let's jump right in. I'm gonna be honest and say that, at first, I felt a little turned off at the female lead, Eun Tak, being nineteen (in the beginning of the show), meanwhile the male lead, Shin, is 900+ years old (but physically looks to be in his thirties). It just... rubbed me weird. But hey, the Twilight series (both the books and the movies) is exactly the same—high school girl, century-old man, bananas yet somehow romantic storyline... And I loved me some Twilight as a young adult. So I mean, I have no right to judge, really. Plus, Eun Tak soon turns twenty anyway. So that's an improvement I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️ We follow her character into her late twenties, nearly thirty. So things are definitely fine by then haha! 👍

Don't let that previous bit make you think I didn't enjoy Goblin—I LOVED it. That detail is just a lil funky to me, is all. Back during my Twilight obsession days, I was nearly twenty myself, and the thought of being pursued by an older man was exciting. Hell, I mean, it still is! But now that I'm two years shy of my 30th Birthday, I feel differently sometimes. I think, LAWD get that girl away from that man, she too young for him LOL. I am definitely getting old... Enough about Twilight now, apologies! I'm only using it for the sake of conveying similarities seen in Goblin 🙏 Let's talk cast!

Kim Go Eun as Ji Eun Tak and Gong Yoo as Kim Shin

Eun Tak is a bubbly young woman with limitless energy! While still in her mother's womb, Mama Ji was involved in a hit-and-run incident which, sadly, took her life. During Mama Ji's dying moments, she prayed to anyone above that her child's life be spared. Sat on a rooftop from afar, beer in hand (lol), Shin hears her prayers, as he is a god of sorts. He appears before Mama Ji, and shows mercy to her unborn baby. Eun Tak grows up with the ability to see/speak to ghosts. Said ghosts tell her constantly that she is the goblin's bride. How do they know? A strange birthmark on the back of Eun Tak's neck tips them off. Eun Tak unfortunately was taken in by her abusive bitch of an aunt, who jabs Eun Tak every chance she gets. Her cousins are assholes. Eun Tak's aunt really only keeps her around in hopes of collecting Mama Ji's savings (intended for Eun Tak) one day. Sad, right? I mean, isn't Eun Tak being born without her mother enough as it is? Life can be so cruel 😔

Lee Dong Wook as Grim Reaper/Reaper/Wang Yeo

This is Grim Reaper (or Reaper for short), portrayed by the handsome Lee Dong Wook. His character is just this strange, not at all tech-savvy man with a constant deadpan facial expression. Said facial expression provokes so many giggles during funny moments, and drives home the longing and desperation during sad times. We learn quite a ways in that he, in his previous life (again, just in case: spoiler), was Wang Yeo G A S P ! The young king that is essentially responsible for Shin's death, as well as all the misdeeds that were done to Shin's family. Again, this is something I don't want to spoil. Well, more, anyway 😆 You gotta see it!

Yoo In Na as Kim Sun/Sunny

Kim Sun, or simply, Sunny (she loves to spell her name for people lol, S-U-N-N-Y!) is the second female lead. Yoo In Na is so gorgeous that one look at her makes you feel like such a potato hahhah. 🥔 This fact about her beauty bleeds over into the show itself—every time another character meets Sunny, the camera does this slow motion pan into her lmao. She really is that pretty! Sunny's personality comes across so odd at first... Having watched all of the episodes now, I feel the intention of Goblin's creators was to make her seem like a soul searching for something it has lost in a previous life. idk if that makes sense, but yeah. She has this way about her, like she's disconnected from others, and is sifting through the haziness to find this thing she feels she's lost.

Yook Sungjae (my BtoB bias 😍) as Yoo Deok Hwa

Sungjaeeee ahhhh 💘💘💘 I had to gush, sorry! Hehe. Meet Deok Hwa: unofficial nephew of Shin. Deok Hwa is a third-generation chaebol (heir to a family-owned corporation) and spoiled man-child, always seeking his credit card hahaha 🤣 But I love him so much. Between Gong Yoo, Lee Dong Wook, and BtoB Sungjae? Man, I'm dying over here! Deok Hwa's true identity is revealed later in the show, which if you haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it. Just watch. But his ending sucked. Like where did he go? Everyone else's endings got tied up neatly except for his. What gives, man? 🤔 Edit: I was actually reading an online conversation about what happened to Deok Hwa online—someone jokingly said he was reincarnated as BtoB Sungjae LOL 💯

Other various comments

AMAZING OST 😍😍😍

Good pace, episodes drag at times. A little confusing in the beginning, but you get there eventually. Maybe this is just me though, viewers who are a little more keen than I will likely catch on sooner ;) My mom was a little confused as well, and actually said at one point, "This should be called the 'what-the-hell-is-going-on' show," hahaha. Like I said though, we quickly moved on from this, and loved all the things. There are actually, I think, three (?) specials that were made to aid viewers in making sure they understand the complex events and relationships clearly. I haven't watched them yet, but want to!

Quite repetitive tbh, as there are unnecessary flashbacks often. Probably for two reasons: the obvious of reminding you what's what, but also to create suspense. Typical duration of most tvN dramas seems to be about 16 episodes, so it's possible these flashbacks and things are, for lack of a better word, filler. I don't know how rigid or lax tvN is about having a drama set at 16 eps, but I get the idea this is their preference. Seeing as so many of their programs on average last that long, I feel this must be what they want. Such has the potential to affect the writing, either positively or negatively.

A continuation of the previous bullet: I think Goblin's creators oversimplified the plot at times. I'm unsure if this is due to possible pressures to meet a specific requirement(s), or what. I'd rather forgo ALL restrictions and let creativity flow, let the story be told without pressure to fill a specific amount of time, etc. but TV production is weird. And contracts are weird. tvN might not to blame for these issues, could simply be that storytelling isn't always easy, man. I'm a writer myself, it's hard! I'M being redundant now lmfao! Anyway, yeah ~

Absolutely LOVED all the scenes that were filmed on location in beautiful Québec City, Canada 🍁 Tall, romantic trees, the fall foliage, historic buildings... sigh. Now all I need is Gong Yoo chasing me and we're all set! ;D

In addition to Shin being revived, my crush on Gong Yoo has been revived as well LOL. He fine 🔥 A classic K drama crush, can't go wrong with GY👌

Gong Yoo is always stellar at doing kiseu (kiss) scenes, and in Goblin, he does not disappoint. He really goes at it 🙈 which is preferred vs. the typical person kissing a stone statue that you see so often. He even did a lift kiss with Kim Go Eun that was reminiscent of THEE Coffee Prince kiss he did with actress Yoon Eun Hye! 😍

I never saw it coming, how the sword would wind up being removed from Shin's chest. I worried what the writers were going to do, how would they approach this, and just wow. The way things turned out is such a relief. It also told me that Shin's love for Eun Tak is true. I mean, I didn't need that scene to occur for me to know that, rather it just adds extra oomph that yes, Shin really does love Eun Tak. He didn't want her to suffer knowing she was responsible for his "death," so he thought quick and used her hands WITH his hands asdfghjkl. How dumb (bc noooo now you're gonna die) and amazing he is at the same time 💜

I love how Shin made his way back to Eun Tak after passing away, it was such a powerful scene. I could really feel his struggle, and kept yelling at my TV for him to stand up lol!

Devastated that Eun Tak died 😭 I really thought as many times as she'd cheated death before, she would somehow continue cheating death again and again for the rest of her days. But no... What a selfless person, Ji Eun Tak. Her being reincarnated as Park So Min gave me some closure. Not the closure I wanted, but closure.

The relationship between Shin and Reaper is ADORABLE. Whenever they interact with each other, they just have this great dialogue. Shin pings, Reaper pongs, Reaper pings, Shin pongs. It's great 😄 I still laugh about the slow-mo scene of them returning from the market with green onions HAHAHA 😂

I love Sunny & Reaper ~ However, their history as Kim Sun & Wang Yeo in their past lives is so very sad. I don't even know where to start RE: my feelings on this 💔 imo, their ending kinda sucked. I just wasn't satisfied with them having had this complicated, tragic story, only to be reincarnated in this fashion that I ultimately found to be just... idk, disappointing 😩 Again, closure, but not the closure I wanted.

I thought Reaper, the other grim reapers, the name cards, the depiction of what happens immediately following death with the brewing of the tea, the afterlife, etc. was all very creative. We really don't know what awaits us when our time comes—it's interesting to wonder if it's anything like it is in Goblin 🍵

Can't stop thinking about Goblin, even though I'm now watching Thirty but Seventeen & Mr. Sunshine! I'm emotionally cheating lol halp.

Photo credits: tvN & AsianWiki

Yo yo! I'm sorry I took so long to watch + write up this review! It's been a long couple of weeks for me, I wasn't always able to watch when I wanted. It was maddening 😆 But I have finally watched, and feel like the most accomplished person on the planet hahaha. xoxo 💜

[the-desolated-quill]

The Angels Take Manhattan - Doctor Who blog (The Statue Of Liberty is a WHAT?!?!)

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Remember when the Weeping Angels used to be scary? Good times, right?

Blink was one of the few Moffat stories that I genuinely liked. It was a simple story with a simple gimmick. Statues that could only move when you weren’t looking at them. It was ostensibly a most lethal version of Grandmother’s Footsteps, and it was bloody terrifying. There was however one problem with the Angels. A problem that soon became apparent the more the Weeping Angels reappeared in the show. They’re really just one trick ponies. Once you’ve seen Blink, you’ve literally seen everything they have to offer. From that moment on, the Angels suffered from the law of diminishing returns. They just weren't scary anymore, and I believe even Moffat was semi-aware of this, hence why his timey wimey crap became more ridiculous and why he kept changing the established rules of the Angels in an effort to keep them fresh. Of course it didn’t work. All it did was mangle the Angels beyond repair and now they’re a shadow of their once scarier selves.

Which brings us to The Angels Take Manhattan. The complete polar opposite of Blink. Whereas Blink was simple, clever and scary, The Angels Take Manhattan is convoluted, stupid and about as scary as a basket full of kittens. As far as I’m concerned, The Angels Take Manhattan serves as a very harsh lesson on learning when enough is enough. Some monsters just don’t work as recurring villains, and the Weeping Angels are most definitely one of them. If Moffat had learnt to keep his massive ego under control, he wouldn’t have turned his greatest creations into the limp, nonsensical and utterly pathetic non-threats they are now.

Let’s stick with the Angels for a bit. Aside from their lack of scariness due to us knowing their MO off by heart now, Moffat also can’t help but change the rules again. Remember in Blink it was established they would turn to stone if anyone looked at them, including each other? Well we’re supposed to forget about that clearly as there are loads of moments where Angels are clearly looking at each other, but can still move. There’s also a really odd moment where a Cherub manages to blow Rory’s match out, but... the Cherub is frozen as a statue. How the fuck was it able to do that? Odder still, Amy and Rory get zapped by the Angels at the end, but on those occasions people were still looking at the Angel, so how did it manage to do it?

And then there’s by far the weirdest part:

The Statue Of Liberty is a Weeping Angel?!

This raises so many puzzling questions. Isn’t the Statue Of Liberty made of copper, not stone? How the fuck did it get from Liberty Island to Winter Quay without anyone noticing? And what is even the fucking point of that?! It’s not as if it actually does anything. It doesn’t even look like an angel. Nor do the statues of the woman and the boy who come chasing the guy who had the Angel chained up (and what was the deal with the guy who had the Angel chained up? We never find out what that was all about).

And we’ve only just scratched the surface here. There are loads of things that don’t make sense here. Take this ‘farm’ the Angels have made. So they send people back to a hotel in 1938 and send them back in time repeatedly to feed off of the time energy. But... why hang onto their victims afterward. Once they’re done feeding, they keep the victim locked in a room until they die of old age. What for? What’s the point? Why not just feed on them and let them go like they usually do?

Rory ends up becoming the latest victim and vows to escape, creating a paradox that will kill the Angels. But for some reason the Doctor doesn’t want to do that and I honestly don’t understand why. He says Rory’s death has been predetermined now, but that’s never stopped the Doctor before. It certainly didn't stop him in the previous series when he himself was destined to die. So why is saving Rory suddenly impossible? And I definitely don’t buy all that bullshit about how once you’ve read something, it’s destined to happen no matter what. That’s just bollocks and the show has contradicted that loads of times in the past. Moffat is once again just making shit up as he goes along and it’s not even consistent. Just look at the whole wrist breaking scene. The Doctor says River needs to break her wrist in order to escape (I don’t even understand that. The Angel has its hand wrapped around her wrist. The only way she could possibly escape is if she were to crush her entire hand down to a circumference smaller than her wrist) because the book says so. Except the book doesn’t say so at all. It just says the Doctor breaks something. Her wrist is never even mentioned and the Doctor doesn’t even break it in the end. (Also why would River lie about her wrist later on? I understand the metaphorical significance of hiding the damage, but it’s just plain daft).

Since I’ve brought up River Song, let’s talk about her. She reappears in this episode wearing a really stupid hat that’s pulled down over her eyes presumably in an attempt to make her look cool and mysterious, but in reality just makes her look like a tit. You’d think considering this is post Wedding Of River Song and we now know everything about her, she might behave a little bit more like an actual human being, but nope. She’s still just as smug and unlikeable as she was before. Actually The Angels Take Manhattan really highlights all the problems with her character, especially her relationship, or lack thereof, with the other characters. They keep insisting she, Amy and Rory are really close now, but I can’t see any evidence for that. It still feels just as strained and awkward as ever to me. As does her relationship with the Doctor. I just don’t buy the supposed ‘romance’ between the two whatsoever as their dialogue only seems to consist of bad sexual innuendo. There’s no genuine emotion or chemistry whatsoever.

Early on it soon becomes apparent how Moffat actually sees her:

Amy: “She’s got ice in her heart and a kiss on her lips and a vulnerable side she keeps well hidden.”

Yeah, turns out Moffat views her as being a noir dame. That’s something that never occurred to me, and that’s because ever since her first appearance in 2008, she had absolutely nothing in common with a noir dame. I mean come on! Ice in her heart? Since when? The Silence In The Library two parter alone contradicts that completely. It’s about as accurate a description as calling her a psychopath, which Moffat does again here by the way. He also describes her in the Melody Malone book as ‘packing cleavage that could fell an ox at 20 feet’. Okay, two things Moffat. One, no woman would EVER write something like that, and two, stop perving over Alex Kingston’s boobs, you colossal fucking creep.

But of course the big thing about The Angels Take Manhattan is that it’s Amy and Rory’s last ever episode. Is it a good farewell?

Credit where it’s due though, the scene on the roof was extremely good. It’s both tragic and emotional in equal measure, and both Karen Gillan and Arthur Darvill really go for it, giving truly incredible performances. It’s hard not to be moved by Amy’s decision to jump off the building with Rory and if Moffat and everyone had just left it at that, it would have been an extremely powerful ending. Instead they seem to go out of their way to ruin it. For one thing, rather than just have Amy and Rory jump off the building and have the performances of the actors be what drives the shock and tragedy of it all, they decide to over-egg the pudding by having Amy and Rory fall in slow motion whilst Murray Gold’s stupid choir performs a slushy melody, which just made the whole thing feel mawkish.

Also it’s hard to be emotionally invested in their sacrifice when it makes no sodding sense. I can understand the paradox killing the Angels, but un-making the hotel? How does that work? What’s Rory got to do with the construction of the hotel? How would his death affect it? And if the hotel never existed, it would mean Rory could never jump off the roof of it to create the paradox in the first place, so wouldn’t we just end up right back to where we started?

Then it just gets worse when we’re suddenly pinged back to the present day and a lone Angel zaps Amy and Rory. Hold on a fucking minute! I thought the paradox killed the Angels! Where the fuck did this one come from?!

The biggest problem with this is that it doesn’t have nearly the same impact the roof scene had because we’ve already done all this a few minutes ago. So why are we doing it again? As far as I’m concerned, it would have worked so much better if Amy and Rory had just plunged to their deaths and that was the end. This just doesn’t make sense. The Doctor says he can’t visit 1938 New York again or it’ll destroy the planet or some such bollocks, but then River says she has to visit Amy in order to write and publish the Melody Malone book. Why not just use her Vortex Manipulator to get them out? Or get them to drive to New Jersey or somewhere and the Doctor can pick them up. It doesn’t make any sense.

And then, as the final turd in the water pipe, we see on the gravestone that Amy has changed her last name to Williams, showing that at last she’s fully committed to her marriage in a way no woman who kept her own name could ever be.

The Angels Take Manhattan is fucking awful. The story makes no sense, the Weeping Angels have been completely and utterly defanged by this point and what could have been a really emotional farewell for Amy and Rory is utterly botched thanks to Moffat putting more emphasis on outsmarting the audience rather than writing a satisfying goodbye.

So let’s end with my final thoughts on Amy and Rory. I’m not going to lie. i wasn’t very impressed. Rory faired slightly better I feel. While his character arc is pretty much the same as Mickey Smith’s from the RTD era, at least Rory actually got to grow and evolve during his time in the TARDIS and Arthur Darvill did a good job overall. Amy on the other hand is definitely one of the weakest companions I’ve ever seen, not just in New Who, but in general. I’ve made it no secret over the course of these reviews how much I dislike her. She’s selfish and obnoxious, and she exhibits a lot of the problems present in all of Moffat’s female characters, namely her lack of agency and proper characterisation. Over two and a half series, she hasn’t actually grown or evolved in any meaningful way and we’ve learnt basically nothing about her outside of her relationship with the Doctor. This was most apparent in Series 6 where she gives birth to and loses her child and at no point does Moffat ever address how she feels about that, and the reason for that is because he doesn’t view her as a character. He views her as a plot device in a mini-skirt whose sole contribution to the story is her legs, her sass and her womb. That’s not to say I don’t like Karen Gillan. I think she’s a great actor and episodes like Amy’s Choice and The Girl Who Waited have demonstrated that when you actually give her some good material to work with, she can give a truly amazing performance. It’s just such a shame that Moffat never fully utilised her.

So goodbye Amy and Rory. You could have been so much more, but at the end of the day... you just weren’t.

[runnning-outof-time]

To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x Reader | Chapter 30

Masterlist

Next Chapter - Epilogue

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Tommy narrowly escapes death and finds his way back to Celia. She’s finally able to share her secret with him, and he asks her a question she can’t say ‘no’ to.

Warnings: language, smoking, drinking, season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 4051

A/N: here it is everyone...the day of reckoning. What will happen? What will Tommy say? How will it all end? I’ve only got 1 more chapter left to share with you after this :’) also, I was listening to ‘First Times’ by Ed Sheeran a lot when I wrote this part, it’s such a sweet song ... enjoy! :)

———

Celia was still waiting for him to return. It had been a bit since the shots were fired, and Tommy hadn't shown his face in the stands. She did see the men that he brought along with him to clean up Sabini's posts, and by the looks of it, they were making out well. Still, she wouldn't feel better until she saw his face and physically confirmed that he was ok.

"I need to go," Polly then stated, standing from her seat.

"Where are you going?" Celia asked for more details, really not wanting to be left alone at the moment.

"I have business I have to attend to," Polly was vague with her answer, and Celia sighed, knowing that this was all she'd be getting. "Stay here," Polly told her then. What else was she going to do though? So Celia watched as Polly moved through the row and walked up the steps to the concourse, leaving her sitting by herself. She couldn't help but feel tears prick her eyes, and she got a feeling down deep in her gut that something wasn't right.

Tommy looked about finished with everything as two coppers dragged him out of the building and to a truck, one leading them with a pistol pointed back at his arrestee. He didn't know why they were making such a big deal out of this...it wasn't like he was resisting.

"Take his hat and gun," the man with the weapon ordered, now standing in the back of the truck. "Get in then," he then ordered Tommy once said things had been taken, and Tommy listened, no emotion on his face as he heaved himself in and sat down, his own revolver, the one that didn't fucking work, being pointed at him now. One of the remaining men got into the back, and both guns were still aimed in Tommy's direction as the doors to the truck shut and everything went black. The engine started up then, and the truck began moving to who the hell knows where.

Celia had had enough of waiting. She needed to find someone she knew, and she needed to do it fast. So she stood from her seat and moved throughout the concourse in hopes that a familiar face would pop up. It didn't take long for her to hear Arthur's distinct voice coming from one of the bar areas. So she stepped in, seeing John in the middle of hugging Lizzie, who looked like she had been put through hell. Arthur was sitting at one of the tables, a drink in his hand as he grinned. "Oi, Celia! Have you seen Tom anywhere?" he asked once he saw her approaching.

"No. I was wondering if you did," she shook her head, sending a look of concern in Lizzie's direction, "are you ok, Lizzie?" she asked.

"Things didn't go quite as planned. Tommy got to me late and then struggled with the soldier because his gun didn't go off. They fought and he killed the Field Marshal with his own gun," Lizzie gave them a rundown of what had happened, her voice shaky. "I don't know where he went afterwards. He told me to leave."

"Things went off without a hitch for us. We took Sabini's lisences and burned them. All bets made on these races will now go to the Peaky Blinders," Arthur reported on how him and his men got on with their assignment, a proud smile on his face.

The conversation was cut short before anyone could respond by Polly walking into the room then. Celia's eyes widened when she noticed a circle of red in the middle of her white, striped coat. "Are you ok, Pol?! Are you bleeding?" she frantically asked as she moved to the older woman’s side.

"No, I'm not bleeding. We need to go, Celia," she answered, her voice bare of emotion. Celia furrowed her brows, almost wanting to dispute the statement and wait for Tommy, but the look in Polly's eyes told her that her argument would be wasted. So she nodded and followed the other woman out of the grounds and to the car. The others were left there with confused expressions on their faces, but nobody said anything as they surely also heard in Polly's voice that her statement wasn't up for contention.

"I killed the inspector," Polly stated the second they were in the car. Her voice still held no emotion, and she stared straight out in front of her as she spoke. Celia looked at her with wide eyes, not knowing what she was to say.

"No one knows where Tommy is," she decided to tell the woman sitting to her left then, tears brimming her eyes for the umpteenth time today. She didn't know why this was affecting her so much emotionally.

"He'll be fine," Polly assured her, sending a nod and a comforting look in Celia's direction. She may have just killed a man herself, but she knew that Celia was still new to this. She hadn't been around for one of Tommy's plans to go awry. And she knew how much Celia cared for him.

"I hope so," Celia said, wiping her tears as she nodded her head along with Polly, hoping that doing so would make her believe more.

"You're pregnant," Polly said then, making Celia look in her direction with widened eyes. This statement had came out of left field, and it was the last thing Celia was expecting her to say. "I can tell in how you've been holding yourself these past few months." So she'd known all along? If so, why didn't she approach Celia sooner?

"I am," Celia nodded, her voice coming out as a whisper. There was no use in lying about it now.

"And it's a girl," was Polly's next statement.

"It is," Celia nodded once more, trying so hard to smile. Her mind was focused solely on Tommy and his well-being at the moment. Although she did wonder how Polly knew that without any background knowledge.

"Tommy'll get out of it," Polly assured her, knowing exactly what was on the younger woman's mind. "He'll be home before the end of the day."

"I hope so," Celia whispered, staring out the window then as she tried so hard to hold on the tears that were threatening to fall.

—

"...nearly got fucking everything!" Tommy yelled into the emptiness of the fields around him, his back turned to the three men who would be executing and burying him in a matter of seconds. All he had on his mind at that moment was Celia. How he was never going to see her again, touch her again...be with her again. He wasn't afraid to die, but he felt terrible that he would be leaving her in his wake.

"Ah, what the fuck...get it done, boys," he sighed, throwing his cigarette to the ground before he moved to the hole, kneeling in front of it as he threw his valuables that he had on him in. He closed his eyes and said his final words then, imagining Celia as he waited for his end to come.

But it didn't. He fell into the grave, but he was still alive, and now there was a man yelling at him to get up and get out of there. So he did just that, only half-concentrating on the orders that the remaining man was barking at him. He stumbled as he walked through the fields, falling down onto the dirt at one point, before his feet were taking him to the place he knew she'd be. Right now he only needed to see her.

——

Celia went back to Tommy's house in hopes that he'd show up there when he finally came back. She almost got tired of waiting and wanted desperately to go to sleep. But her desire to see him again outweighed her desire to get some rest. So she sat on the couch in his living room, staring at the fire as she tried to keep the terrible thoughts in her mind at bay. Her hand was subconsciously rested upon her stomach, her baby girl not leaving her mind also. Her baby girl who she didn't tell him about. Who she kept a secret from him for way too fucking long. Who she may never get to tell him about now. No...don't think like that, Celia.

Polly's words kept going through her head...'he'll be home by the end of the day'...it was night now, and Celia had wished that she had asked for some clarification before leaving the woman who had spoken the statement. Did she mean by the end of daylight or the end of the calander day? Either way it was coming to an end, and Tommy hadn't come back yet.

Then she heard someone knocking on the door. She gasped at the sudden sound, sitting frozen in her spot on the couch as she looked over to it. Could her prayers have finally been answered? There was only one way to find out.

The knocking came again as she stood from the couch and moved to the door, her hand gripping the knob tightly before she turned it and slowly pulled the door open. Another gasp left her mouth as her eyes fell upon the person now standing across from her. "T...Tommy," she breathed, her eyes already filling with tears. Was this real right now? Or was she dreaming?

The man in front of her confirmed his realness when he stepped forward into the house and took her into his arms, hugging her frame tightly to his body. He didn't want to let go, because this time he wasn't so sure that he was going to get out of the predicament he was in and find his way back to her arms.

"Tommy...what happened to you?" she asked him after they finally pulled away. She stepped back to look him over, cringing slightly when she took in his appearance. His clothing was disheveled and dirty, his hair was a mess, there was a cut by his right eyebrow that had a trail of blood dried to his skin directly under it, the bright red necktie was now missing and his once white collar had red splattered over it. He looked like he'd been to war. The worst of it for Celia though was his eyes. They simultaneously held no emotion and all of the emotions in the world in them, and it was making it hard for Celia to really discern what he was feeling at the moment.

"I was brought to my grave and then I was able to walk out of it," Tommy responded, his voice flat as he spoke.

Celia's eyes widened at his statement, "they were going to kill you?!" she just about shrieked, tears filling her eyes once again. You'd think by now that she'd have none left to cry.

"It was a set up. Winston Churchill wants me to work for him...is going to be contacting me in the near future," Tommy told her then.

"Dammit, Tommy!" she exclaimed, hitting his chest with both of her hands out of impulse. It wasn't hard, and Tommy understood why she did it - being that she was so close to losing him, so he wasn't mad at her. He could never be mad at her. "You could've been killed," she said then, tears falling freely now as she collapsed against his chest. He held her in his arms, stroking her back soothingly in hopes to get her to calm down. "I could have lost you...we could have lost you," she cried into the material of his coat.

"Shh, love...I'm here. I'm still here with you," he assured her, kissing her hair after he spoke.

"Tommy..." she paused, pulling back from him then to wipe the tears that had fell from her eyes, "I need to tell you something, and I need to tell you now. I've been holding this in for too long, and it can't wait another second," she said, preparing herself for her secret to be let out to probably the last person to know about it...the person who really should have been the second person to know.

"What is it, Celia?"

"No, let me speak, please," she stressed her words, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to regain her composure.

"Go on then, love," there was a slight smile in Tommy's words, and it was then that she realized she'd yet to tell him. That she was just standing in front of him.

"I'm pregnant, Tommy." There. It was out. Finally Tommy knew that she was pregnant. All was right in the world. Well it would be right the second that he responded to her announcement.

She locked her eyes with him as she watched him digest the news. He hadn't screamed in her face and told her to get out of his life, so that was a good sign, right? "How...how far are you?" he finally asked then, his voice soft as he spoke.

"I'm four months as of about a week ago," she told him, letting out the breath she was holding in anticipation of his response.

He was shocked now more than anything. How could he go from almost being executed to finding out that he was going to have a child in five months...that he was a father now. "Four months?" he repeated her answer, his hands going to run over her stomach as he peered down slightly, "love, your stomach's still flat," he commented on his findings then, making Celia laugh slightly.

"The midwife said that I've been carrying back, like more internally, but that she's growing perfectly and that she should be making her first appearances within the next few weeks," Celia explained the reason behind her lack of a baby bump, her hand dropping to rest upon Tommy's that was still against her stomach.

Tommy's eyes were wide again with the next bit of news that was shared with him. "She? It's a girl?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"Yes, she," Celia confirmed that he heard right, "I just found out today."

"You didn't tell me," was what he said next, now racking his brain to try to think of a time where Celia had told him that she was pregnant. He did this for a few moments, but came up blank.

"I said just about everything except 'I'm pregnant' to you, Tommy. You were too caught up in business to catch on," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “And I know I should have just said ‘I’m pregnant’, but still.”

"I'll give it up," he said out of nowhere then, making her brows furrow.

"What?" she asked for clarification.

"I'll give the business up. I'll give everything up...the races, the deals, the killing. I'll give it up." She did not expect this to come from him. But he sounded so serious at the moment.

"No, Tommy, I can't expect you..."

"You deserve it, Celia," he cut her off. His hands fumbling through his pockets then. "You deserve a steady, normal life with me...with our child," he continued on, his fingers finally finding what he was looking for.

"Tommy..."

The breath got caught in Celia's throat as she watched him drop down on his one knee, the gold plated ring that he wore on his right ring finger daily sitting in between his fingers as he looked up at her. "Will you marry me, Celia Rose Farraday?" he asked, his eyes full of hope.

"Darling, are you joking?" was the first thing that came out of Celia's mouth before she could stop it, making her mentally kick herself for not keeping her mouth shut and instead giving him the answer he was looking for.

"Please?" Tommy didn't let her statement deter him, practically pleading with her to agree to him.

"Yes, Tommy. I'll marry you," she nodded her head then, tears starting to fall again, though this time they were happy ones.

A wide smile broke onto Tommy's features as he stood from the floor and grabbed her left hand, sliding the ring, that was a bit too big for her, onto her ring finger before he took her cheeks into his hands and kissed her passionately. The kiss felt just like it was their first. Celia's mind swirled as her emotions overtook her. She was full on crying when they pulled away from each other, and Tommy couldn't stop from smiling as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. Hell, he was crying to. "I'll get you a ring soon. A beautiful ring, like you deserve," he promised her, his hands finding hers again. "This is what I had right now. I couldn't wait though," he told her, his fingers spinning the ring of his that she was now wearing.

"This is fine, Tommy," she told him, laughing softly between her tears. She looked down at the ring then. Sure, it was like a size and a half too big, and nearly slid off of her finger when she held her arm downwards, but it was perfect. It fit this moment, this proposal, so well.

"I'm getting you a ring, Celia," he remained steadfast on his statement, and Celia wasn't going to argue, "I'm getting you a ring, and I'm getting you a house...a bloody mansion that is so far away from this city that we're going to have to take the day if we want to drive back into it."

He'd just professed this grand plan for their future, and Celia...oh, sweet, Celia...said the first thing that came to her mind: “but what about my jobs, Tommy?"

"If I have my way with these betting posts, you won't be working another day in your life, love," he told her, and she could tell from the look in his eyes that he was being serious about this, that he wouldn't stop at anything until he made that a reality.

"I love you, Tommy," was all she could say then, more tears streaming down her cheeks as she pictured their future together, one in a beautiful home with their baby girl, and then maybe a few more kids, by their side. "I love you so much," she breathed, holding his face in her hands and staring right into his eyes. The smallest smile formed on his lips as he closed the space between them, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss. "We're gonna have to tell your family," Celia stated after they pulled apart to rest their foreheads together.

"Fuck my family," Tommy breathed, not really thinking straight at the moment. Celia couldn't help but giggle.

"I'm sure they'd be happy to know," she said then, toying with the dirty collar of his shirt. He really needed to change out of these clothes. "They all pretty much already know about me being pregnant."

"So I was the last fucking one to know?" he questioned, his eyebrows playfully raised at her statement. He wasn’t angry. He couldn’t be. Celia fell into more giggles as his face softened and he chuckled.

"I'm not sure if Arthur knows, because he's just as dense as you are. John only knows because I told Esme and those two have no filter whatsoever. I thought that Polly didn't know, but she sprung her knowledge on me during the car ride home."

"So I was the last fucking one to know," Tommy repeated himself, nodding his head and pointing to himself as he spoke for dramatic effect.

Celia tried to hold a straight face, but it soon dissolved into a grin as she nodded her head. "Yeah, I think you are," she admitted. Tommy shook his head as he tried hard to hold his smile back. God, she had him grinning like an idiot.

"Never again, C. Next time you have something important to tell me, tell me, please," he stressed his words, and Celia nodded, telling him that she'd do whatever it took from now on to get the message through to him when she had something important.

Celia then stepped back slightly from him, taking in his full appearance once more now that her emotions had calmed down. "You look filthy, Thomas," she stated then, her eyebrows scrunched together in a look of displeasure. "Do you want me to run you a bath?"

"Depends. Are you planning on joining me in said bath?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively as he looked down at her.

She couldn't stop the smirk from forming on her face. "If you play your cards right..." she told him, trailing off as she bit her bottom lip.

"When have I ever played them wrong when it comes to you?" Tommy grinned. He did have a point. Celia wasn't going to let him know that though.

"Do you really want to open that can of worms?" she asked, her hands on her hips as she looked up at him. The smile still on her face let him know that she was joking, and that he was safe from any lectures for the night.

"Save it for another day, love," Tommy responded, taking hold of her hand then before he led her up the steps and to his room. She then got the bath ready, and they shared the tub together, talking about what was to come as they washed the stresses and remnants of the day from their bodies.

——

"Oi, Tommy! You're still alive!" Arthur cheered as he walked into the office at the betting shop. "Nice of you to come tell us as soon as you got back," he chided as the rest of his family members filed in behind him. Soon enough, Arthur, John, Esme, Polly, Michael, Finn, Ada, and Lizzie were all standing in the open space of the office while Tommy and Celia were situated behind his desk. Tommy was sitting, and Celia was stood behind his chair, her hands rested on his shoulders as she stood sort of to the side of him.

"I had more important matters to attend to," Tommy answered, slightly glancing over to Celia, who couldn't hold back her smile. "How did the posts fair out?" he asked then.

"Really good, Tom. We burned all of Sabini's lisences, and all earnings from Espom came directly to us," Arthur reported, a proud smile on his face, because it was him who was leading the group.

"That's good," Tommy stated, nodding his head. "I have some ideas for the future of the company..." he trailed off, tapping the ash of the cigarette he was smoking into the ashtray that sat on his desk. "And...I'm planning on getting married," he told them as if it was any other sentence. Celia's smile only widened, her heart swelling as she watched his family (which was soon to be hers) for their reactions. The women's eyes immediately widened. A smug grin took up John's face, Michael and Finn were saying something to each other, and Arthur just looked on with a smile. Celia could have swore that she saw a tear fall from his eyes.

Tommy turned slightly in his chair to look up at Celia, who was looking down at him. They both shared a smile before Tommy nodded his head towards the other people in the room, as if he was telling her to go accept their congratulations'. So she went into the small crowd, immediately getting hugs from everyone. Her favorite hug though, had to be when Tommy came up to her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to him, his head moving to fit between her neck and shoulder. The boys were immediately hollering about how there was no doubt now that Tommy had gotten soft, and that they couldn't believe that he'd actually got a woman to willingly settle down with him. Tommy ignored them, pressing his lips to Celia's neck. She felt him smile against her skin, and it only made hers widen. At that moment, everything was the way it was supposed to be.

———

Tagged: @mootiemoose @theshelbyclan @alreadybroken-ts @cloudofdisney @stevie75 @kagome1414 @epicwaterlemon @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @woofgocows @joossieisdabomb @strangunddurm @pulisvertz