I WISH SHE WAS DEAD i wish they all were & we were too.
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I WISH SHE WAS DEAD i wish they all were & we were too.
thirteen
Merlin wished he could say he had special permission to be here. Here, at Finnick's bedside while he recovered from his second round of Hunger Games. Special permission, he found, did not exist in District 13. Everyone was the same. Everyone was equal. Only they weren't. It was hard for Merlin to grasp since he was mostly distracted by everything related to Finnick. Since he was not allowed in, Merlin found more creative ways to get what he wanted. He would distract the guards or climb in through the vents. Anything to be by the side of the only person he had left in the world.
"Finn? You awake?"
the adult
Kitty sighed. “The usual,” she said, letting her head fall forward against her chest in exhausted resignation. “Talking rot, refusing to take anything even remotely seriously. Most of the time I can just laugh it off, but he really got to me today.”
“I may have insulted sheep while I was yelling at him.”
“You didn't." Merlin's tone was more sorrowful disappointment than doubt.
it was wrong, but you said it was right || arthur & merlin || sometimes it burns
Okay, so apparently Merlin didn’t agree with Arthur’s assessment that he had done nothing wrong, and now he was going to punish him for his wrongs. Arthur frowned. Now that was just completely unfair; it wasn’t as though he’d murdered someone, after all! He’d just chosen to take his custom to a different shop for a few days, that was all. He was perfectly entitled to do so. It wasn’t as though he’d made a commitment to the shop or anything daft like that.
“Oh, hah hah, Merlin,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes and doing his best to act as though the whole situation was just one big joke. It wasn’t a joke, not really – Arthur would never have admitted it, but even numb from the cold outside as he already was, Merlin’s harsh pretense chilled him to the bone.
“Don’t just sit there and sulk – it’ll put me off my coffee. Come on – a double caramel latte for Martha – you know how I like it.”
Merlin could feel that the tension was on both sides. It was nice to know that Arthur was not just brushing this whole thing off, even if the terrible attempt at brightening the mood was threatening to get under his skin.
"Well, you'll have to excuse me if I forget some things. After all, it has been a while. I understand though, considering what we serve here at Midknight Brew is not up to your pricy standards."
Maybe bringing up status was a low blow but Merlin was angry and he would like to show it without throwing anything at that blonde head. He scribbled on the cup, leaving the counter to fix the idiot his drink.
the adult
Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, a scowl on her lips. Oh, but she was defiant.
“I haven’t done anything,” she said, annoyed that suddenly this was her fault. Of course bloody Merlin would take his side. “He’s the one being a prat.”
“Of course, I agree, he is being a prat..."
Merlin took a moment to nod sagely. “ what did he do, exactly?"
the adult
"Kit, please be honest with me, what did you say to Will? He's locked himself in his room and moved all the furniture in front of the door. Which, by the way, he has not done since he was twelve."
it was wrong, but you said it was right || arthur & merlin || sometimes it burns
It had been sixteen days since Arthur had set foot back in Midknight Brews. Sixteen days of averting his eyes as he passed the shop and choking down vile cups of Starbucks lattes as he desperately tried to keep up with his coursework.
As much hell as he had always given Merlin about the quality of his beverages, drinking Starbucks coffee truly was like suckling at the devil’s teat.
It was the need for a proper cup of coffee that finally brought him back. That, at least, was what he kept repeating over and over in his head as he pushed through the front door and strode up to the counter, heart pounding inexplicably violently in his ribcage. Ridiculous. There was no reason for him to be nervous. It wasn’t as though he had done anything wrong. Okay, he had, perhaps, been unfaithful – if Merlin found out where he had been getting his coffee for the past fortnight, he would surely have to face ridicule and condemnation of the type he had never before believed possible, but so what. He could handle that.
And then, why did he even give a toss what Merlin thought about him? It wasn’t as though they were even really friends. What they had was, at best, a close customer-barista relationship, and at worst, was a mere acquaintanceship.
He had no reason to be nervous.
The few steps separating the entrance from the till, thankfully empty of other coffee connoisseurs, seemed to stretch on for an eternity. He swore he could almost feel sweat dripping down his face as he made the arduous journey, though when he reached up to touch his face he found it completely dry.
“A double caramel latte, please,” he said, making his best attempt at his usual winning smile. It didn’t have quite the same effect. “Large, if you don’t mind.”
Merlin had not been brooding about Arthur-fucking-Pendragon. Oh no. In fact, Merlin had not thought about Arthur at all since they went out to lunch. He had not worried over the details, nor fretted over the lack of Arthur in the shop since. Arthur was a busy man and Merlin had better things to do than spend precious time thinking about his favorite customer. Nor about the friendship he might have ruined before it bloomed. Of course not. Merlin was fine.
In fact Merlin was so fine that he did not remember the stupid prat's face when he finally came in on day sixteen. Why should he? Its not like he had a memorable face, whoever this customer was. Had he been here before? Merlin certainly could not recall but he would get no less than the best service from this employee.
"Of course, sir. May I have a name to go with that?" He said in a barely controlled, polite tone of practiced customer service. His eyes released Arthur's as soon as they were caught and focused on the pen and cup in his hands.
chatting
You should have seen his face when I told him who the errand was for. Apologized at least a dozen times.
The Name Day of William Gladstone
When Arthur saw the package on his desk that morning, his first thought was that it must be a trap of some kind. Merlin always delivered his mail directly to him rather than leaving them unsupervised, just in case whatever happened to be inside shouldn’t be left unattended.
It wasn’t until he had summoned his faithful djinni, had it examine the box, discovered it lacked any offensive magic, and dismissed the spirit, that curiosity about what might be inside hit him. It didn’t look official, so what on earth could it be?
Feeling a bit foolish, Arthur poked the box.
Nothing happened.
–– “Merlin!” he yelled, waking back towards the door. –– “Merlin, did you let someone into my office?”
“No, sir, I was not born yesterday." Came the somewhat snarky retort from Gladstone's assistant. Merlin entered the room and closed the door behind him. The magic protecting the office was sealed automatically. "The only people who have entered your office today are in it at present."
“Ah I see you've got my gift. I should have known you would poke around it with your bad case of paranoia. Seriously, Gladstone, if I had a pound for every harmless thing you thought was a threat "
The Name Day of William Gladstone
Magicians were not big on birthdays. Being born was a marker of before. That time in their lives when they were helpless and named- maybe even loved. They once were common as the rest of the world. Mortal. Unremarkable. Naming days were better though not by much. Merlin Emrys only knew a few magicians who celebrated their name day and they were considered either arrogant or foolish.
While Merlin did not know the name day of his boss, William Gladstone, he did know it was sometime this month so the first seemed like a good oppertunity to celebrate it. Celebrate being a very loose term.
Gladstone did not have any friends that Merlin trusted in his office so this alone ruled out much of a party. It was just him then. Just Merlin. The secretary and, honestly, now that he thought about it, not someone very suited for giving gifts at all. He had only been working with Gladstone a few months and they had been months of verbal abuse and underappreciation. Still, Merlin felt as though he had moments with his boss. Unexpected, quiet, sincere moments.
Still there the present sat centered on Gladstone's desk, wrapped very neatly in a simple, matte red paper.
"Arthur are you awake?"
▌█ ♆ ░
finnick realized he’d forgotten to tell merlin about the fish he’d caught early that morning. surely, he’d want to cook it for later. finn could only imagine merlin out there trying to catch his own fish. the victor laughed just thinking of it. he opened the door with a smile, but it fell quickly. “merlin? what’s going on?!”
Merlin, for all the hopelessness he felt, fooled himself into believing he had not been caught crying. He pulled himself together quite well for the state he had been in a second before. His voice did not shake though it splintered a little at the beginning.
"Finnick...did you forget something?"
Finn was supposed to be out. It was only when he was gone that Merlin allowed himself to have moments like this. Moments where he curled up on Finnick's bed and just laid there. Sometimes, like now, he would cry. It was not Finn's fault, if anything having him around helped. Merlin did not feel nearly as raw and vunerable when he was with Finnick. But the wounds were still there, open in his heart, refusing to scar. Merlin felt the past as clear as if it were the present still.
an independent rp account for kitty jones of the bartimaeus trilogy
–– “She’s stubborn, but she always retains her idealism that she can make a better world. She is not corrupted - her idealism survives intact and is flexible enough to change her course.”
9 years of RP experience
OC and crossover friendly
Flexible format
––– [[HOME]] ––– [[MESSAGE]] ––– [[WRITING]] ––– [[ABOUT]] –––
Worlds Collide || Kitty & Merlin
–– “Oh, Christ.”
In the wake of this revelation, Kitty just gaped at the man for a few seconds. Just her luck - of course the person she was unnecessarily hostile towards would turn out to be her flatmate’s best friend. Of course she would make the worst possible first impression.
Then again, if William had been talking about her to Merlin, there was a good chance he was hardly surprised by her behaviour.
–– “You’re Will’s Merlin,” she said, a bit unnecessarily. She dropped her head. How embarrassing.
–– “You probably think Will’s at least half mental for putting up with a flatmate like me, but I promise - I’m not always this difficult. Just when I’m hungry. Or tired. Or I’ve tripped over one of William’s books again.” She glowered for a moment, and decided that, as Will’s former flatmate, Merlin probably shared this frustration and could at the very least understand that annoyance completely.
Hoping to somewhat rectify the situation, she said, –– “Well, now I really feel like an arse. Please, take some of the bun - it’ll make me feel better, at least.”
“Thanks." Merlin finally accepted the offer to share the iced bun. He felt denying it any more would be rude. After all, she was attempting to make amends in her own way. "Well, Will is not exactly the most normal housemate to have around anyway."
“I am certain you balance each other out very well." His laugh smoothed into a smile that was soft and knowing. "Don't feel too awful about anything. We all have our moments. Consider it forgotten."
Merlin was terribly jubilant now, having finally had the opportunity to meet Miss Jones. Will had not talked about someone so animatedly since Merlin started working for Gladstone, though the way he talked about Kitty was far more positive. Merlin did not dare dabble in guessing at romance but he was certainly thrilled that Will had made such a good friend. Often, William was an acquired taste and not many people appreciated his full uniqueness.