#tw: lying

[thebekashow]

"think of it as a good thing."

(mini fun fact, I drew arthur and delilahs suits with colour, but then grayscaled it lol)

[prince-boy]

ill finish this later

[teaand-dreams]

Cages or Wings (which do you prefer?)

Arthur Pendragon x Reader

Summary: Some say a life with the person you love is perfection—they never say what happens when that life is spun from lies.

TW: panic attack, lying, magic, angst

WC: 2240

The repeated scratching of a quill against paper floats through the air as you quietly slip through the door, pausing to reassure yourself no one else is in the room. As your eyes sweep over the empty chairs to land on the only person in the light, you take a deep breath and prepare to move out of the shadows.

You take a deep breath as you move toward the man writing in the dimming candlelight, words and phrases flitting through your head in half-questions and half-conversations. Finally, you ask: “Long day?”

“Hmm?” The quill stops as Arthur glances up, eyes blinking wearily before they clear as he smiles up at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” He sighs, the quill falling from his fingers as he lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “Yes, it’s been a very long day. Leon ran into some trouble with the new recruits this morning, and as I’m sure you’ve heard by now one of the visiting nobles was caught using magic so I had to deal with that with Father instead of going over the wedding protocol, and I-” Arthur pauses, his mouth open as his eyes stare out into the darkness of the world beyond the window. You bite your lip, carefully bringing your hands to his shoulders and rubbing as he groans. “I forgot about our dinner plans, didn’t I? Again.”

“It’s alright.” You swallow the growing lump in your throat as Arthur leans into your touch. “Three more weeks and you’ll be stuck with me for life. We can eat together then.”

A pained laugh echoes in the room as Arthur shakes his head. “Still. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you; I swear.”

You press your lips together and shut your eyes, forcing yourself to take another deep breath before carefully pressing your lips to Arthur’s head. “I know,” you whisper. Arthur just tilts his head back.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Merlin drops his head onto the table, groaning as Gaius closes the book in front of him. You glance over the various pages in front of you, scanning the paragraphs and drawings of the creature Gaius determined is being used to try and kill your fiancé.

“I could try talking to him,” you offer.

“That might do more harm than good.” You open your mouth to argue, but Gaius tilts his head in a knowing manner and the resolve drains from your shoulders into the ground. “Arthur trusts you, loves you, but is it strong enough to withstand the notion of you knowing about creatures of magic?”

“Probably more trust and love in that relationship then in his friendship with me,” Merlin mutters.

You swallow to dissolve the growing lump in your throat, but it pushes back, expanding to constrict your airway as Gaius’ words and Merlin’s next response fade into distorted noise in your ears. “Not enough to still love me if he ever found out I have magic.” The words leave your mouth with your next exhale, and if either of your companions heard they ignore it as they continue to debate the best course of action.

You blink as your ears prickle with the sound of a chair being pushed away, and your eyes focus on Merlin as he stands, arms folded over his chest and lips turned down in a frown, and stomps out of the room. Your eyes turn to Gaius as he shakes his head and shuffles toward the bookcase on the other side of the room.

“Excuse me,” You mutter. Gaius doesn’t turn, and the lump in your throat reels the words back into your chest as you push your way from the table and stumble out of the room. The walls shift, chasing you as you stumble, foot after foot after foot after foot, until you find yourself falling onto a patch of green and crisp, fresh air found the morning after a storm wraps itself around you in a comforting hug. Your lungs scream joyously as you breathe.

Your fingers clench around blades of grass and you force your brain to focus on the ticklish feeling as you shift to kneel on the ground, head bowed low as you regain the breath you had lost in Gaius’ chambers.

Your eyes shut as you swallow once more, and when you open them it is to the shadow of someone walking up behind you. You slowly push yourself to your feet and turn, letting your shoulders drop with relief at Gwen’s smile.

“Are you okay?” At your nod, she nods her chin back toward the castle. “Well, Arthur asked me to tell you that the tailor finished your outfit for tonight so he sent it to your room.”

“Thank you, Gwen. Did he say anything else?”

“Just that he’s excited. As am I. I can’t believe tonight’s the last feast before you and Arthur’s wedding; I’m sure it’ll be a lovely event.”

Your lips tentatively pull up in a small smile. “As if Uther would let it be anything else. Only the best for his only son, right?”

Gwen laughs. “True enough. Well, I’d better be on my way. I have to pick up material for a new dress for Morgana. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You say farewell to Gwen and slowly make your way up to your room in the castle. Once the door has shut, a loose barrier protecting you from the world of Camelot and Uther’s hatred of magic, you turn to look at the new outfit sprawled out on the bed. You take the fabric in your hands, smiling at the colors, and pick up the note next to it. Your fingers aimlessly trace Arthur’s handwriting, and you close your eyes to force the pain from your heart and gut.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me, you tell yourself. Not if he knew the truth.

You turn quickly, moving to replace your current clothes with the new outfit made specifically for the feast. A final feast before the wedding, a final goodbye to life before…it will be all right, love shapes life, and I love him and he loves me; that is all that matters…

Arthur smiles when he sees you. A wide, unconscious, loving, terrible smile that holds a world of possibilities, hopes, and future dreams within it.

“You look lovely,” he whispers in your ear as you link your arm through his and he leads you into the main hall. You thank him, and let the warmth of his arm guide you past the nobles chattering and whispering, your eyes desperately searching the corners of the room until Gwen’s reassuring smile slows your beating heart and Merlin and Gaius’ waves slow the spinning world to an acceptable pace.

“Ah, there you are.” The world crashes into motion again, your heart slamming into your chest.

“Father,” Arthur nods in greeting and you instinctively bow your head.

“Your Majesty.”

Uther Pendragon waves his hand dismissively. “None of that. We are to be family, after all.” You silently nod as Uther moves to greet someone else.

“See. I told you he doesn’t hate you.”

You sigh. “So you did.”

Arthur laughs. “Come, let us sit down.” You let Arthur guide you toward a seat, frowning when something shifts in your peripheral vision. You turn your head to see Merlin talking animatedly with Gwen, head turning and eyes searching. “Y/N?” You turn back to Arthur, his once smiling face fallen into worry.

“I-” The words constrict in your throat as the world slows, slower than before, your vision locked on the figure of someone—the daughter of a noble, your brain supplies—as their fingers shift and they point at Arthur’s back, sparks flitting through the air. A gasp tears its way from your throat as you push him away, arms rising instinctively to stop, protect, keep the lightning away.

The sparks bounce away from the shield as they have every time Merlin practiced the spell with you in the privacy of Gaius’ chambers, and your heart plummets when, instead of his praise, your ears receive the gasping horror of an entire room of nobles and knights of Camelot.

“Magic.” The word breathes itself into existence, a small, quiet sound uttered from the most protected corner where Uther stands, face white, through the jaded room and into your soul, shaking, cracking, as Uther gestures for knights to restrain you.

You turn helplessly toward Arthur, mouth opening with unsaid words, but the gaze in his eyes stops you. He backs away, knights push him behind them, and your arms are forced behind your back and tied together. Behind Arthur, you see Gaius grab Merlin’s arm, forcing him to stay still. He watches, eyes wide and mouth moving in an unheard, unforgiven, apology. Next to him, Gwen’s hands clasp together under her chin as she mutters into them, watching with shaking shoulders as the guards force you out of the room.

Your gaze falls to the ground as you’re pushed from hallway to hallway, out of the sun, out of the moon, down a flight of stairs, into the freezing, damp dungeon. You only lift your gaze once the clanking echo of the cell door being slammed shut has faded and, alone, you let your tears fall.

He arrives an hour later. Silent, guarded. He stays in the shadows for the first few minutes, watching, waiting. You keep your head down, eyes watching the edge of his shoes as he moves to step closer, hesitates, and then speaks.

“So you have magic, then.”

You swallow, throat dry. “Yes.”

“You never told me.”

“No.”

He pauses, perhaps unsure, perhaps confused, perhaps wanting to know but not wanting to ruin the image of what you were with what you are. “Why?” You flinch, the word cutting through the defenses you had prepared for this very conversation with its soft, quiet, desperate tone.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not an answer!” Arthur slams his palm against the door of the cell, and you close your eyes until you hear him take a step back. “That’s not an answer,” he repeats.

“I know. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Was nothing true?”

“Everything was true.” You lift your head to stare at him. He raises his eyebrow. “It was. It is. I love you, Arthur. I have always loved you, and I always will. Yes, I have magic and I never told you. What did you expect me to do? Tell you the day we met? Your father would have had me executed.”

“And now he’s planning your execution in place of our wedding.”

“Better that than your funeral.”

Arthur swallows, stares a moment more, and turns to leave. “Get some rest.”

“Whatever for? I’ll be dead by nightfall.”

He pauses, and you wait in the silence as he shakes his head and continues on his way. In the quiet that follows, you hold back a scream.

The cell door opens. You press your fingernails into your palms, silently recounting every promise and every truth and every lie and every dream you have ever made and every face that will mourn when you are gone and every face that will laugh and say good riddance and every face that will be unsure of how to mourn your erasure from existence without mourning the loss of the magic you possess.

A hand grabs your shoulder. Your eyes shut, and your throat closes in on itself. You’re pulled to your feet, and your mind counts the laughs and smiles you’ve shared with Gwen, Merlin, Gaius, Morgana, Arthur.

The hand pushes you and you stumble as you’re guided out of the cell. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, sweet, loving, Arthur, trying to please his father, the smile he only shared with you, please let him find happiness again.

The hand presses firmly into your shoulder and your breath catches in your throat as another hand grasps your wrist. Fingers delicately draw circles into your wrist before something presses against your skin, moving, and the rope tying your hands together falls to the ground. Your eyes open as the hand urges you forward again. You stare at the dimly lit hallway, turning your head as Arthur leans whisper in your ear.

“I have two horses waiting just outside here. Quietly, come on.”

You follow as he leads you, eyes scanning for the missing guards, and soon Arthur is helping you onto a horse before mounting his own and leading you through Camelot and out into the wilderness.

You ride in silence, fear gripping your throat, until dawn breaks through the sky and Arthur pauses, drawing his horse to a stop. You stop next to him, watching as he turns his horse around. His eyes stare into the distance as he speaks.

“You are to leave Camelot. Do not return. Ever.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Arthur nods, and urges his horse back toward Camelot. You watch as he pauses again, several feet from you. You wait as his shoulders rise with the need to say something, and then drop as he says nothing, and his horse moves again. You watch, tears filling your eyes, as he continues to move away from you. You watch until he is too far to see and, once you are sure he has not looked back, you turn your horse away from Camelot.

taglist: @tangled-upwithyou @retvenkos @multifandomfix​

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

When the Rebellion gave orders, it was always in your best interest to follow them. They didn’t tend to allow outside thinking. But the orders to fake your death in order to shock the Capital into action made something inside your shrivel.

The entirety of plan meant that you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what was going to happen — and that would leave you lying to (and potentially never seeing again) your mother, your sisters, and Finnick.

And while your relationship was fake, set up by President Snow to distract the Capital, you had fallen for the Pretty Boy of District Four. You didn’t like lying about anything and didn’t like lying to your closest people and you especially didn’t like lying to the one man almost single-handedly keeping you afloat in the cesspool you called home.

But you were a part of something bigger now, had been since you agreed to side with the Rebellion, and Finnick’s honest reaction to your death was needed to sell the ruse.

You just hoped you were both alive so you could apologize about it all.

@themerrywhumpofmay

[sanderssidesaudiobooks]

To Have a Home (Chapter 4) by oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall

Written by @oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall (HelloColdWorld on AO3) Narrated by @prideful-patton

Summary: To say that Virgil had a poor life at home is an understatement. One day he decides to run away and live on the streets.

Characters: LAMP

AU: Human

Warnings: lying, suspicion, mention of prejudice of the homeless

CHAPTER FOUR

Audiobook version: SoundCloud

Written version: AO3

[black-roses-and-angst-posts]

Seeing Red

Summery: Virgil spent his whole life searching for the man with red eyes. His soul mate. But it’s hard to find someone, when you don’t know there name, face, or what red even looks like. The night before his eighteenth birthday, Virgil frantically searches the city for the mysterious red eyed man. But will he be too late?

Trigger Warnings: Panic, strong language, let me know if I need to add anything else.

Ships:  Prinxiety, Logality in the background 

A/N: I know, I know, this isn’t From Shadows To Sunlight, but I’ve been super busy, and I’ve hit writers block. This is a pretty fluffy soul mate au, where you can’t see the color of your soul mates eyes, until you find your soulmate. Like, say your soulmate were to have blue eyes, then you couldn’t see the color blue. Sorry if that was a terrible explanation. Oh, and this has two endings! So I hope you enjoy, and next week I’ll be posting From Shadows To Sunlight 

"Red, is such an odd color for an eye color, don't you think?"

I was asked this many times in my life. How should I know? I've never seen the color. The color of my soulmates eyes.

I dreamed of seeing those eyes so many times. But how could you dream of something you've never seen?

From what people tell me, it's a warm color, representing love, and fiery passion. The opposite of the dark black eyes I posses.

Demonic. That was a word often tossed around when people talked about me. Demonic eyes that held no love, or compassion. But they didn't see, that I did have love, but it was stomped out of me by the people who said I didn't have it.

In second grade, my best friend met his soul mate. The day it happened, he broke down crying. Dark blue, I believe was the color he saw. His eye color was a pretty pastel blue. I had spent many days wishing I couldn't see that color. That he could be mine. Selfish, isn't it?

I never once told a soul. It's a taboo to have feelings for another person's soulmate.

But those feelings were gone quickly, since after that he spent time with his soulmate, leaving me alone. They would draw hearts in the sand, with  P + L in the middle.

Pathetic, that I thought about that at this moment. I turned eighteen in a few hours. That brought many things with it. I would be kicked out of the place I was living, I would be considered soulless, which many people already thought, and I would officially be out of the time loop for finding my soulmate.

You see, most people find their soulmate very early in life. Sure, there were the tales of people who found their soulmates when they were older, but usually those were fake. Very fake, and very rare.

That gave me only a few hours to find my soulmate. If I had one. I have to have one, right? What would I do if I didn't? Die? Probably. I'd probably get murdered by the hoards of angry people hellbent on removing soulless people from the world.

The side of society you don't see. The part they hide from view. Sure, if you were to look on the surface, it would seem like times was progressing, that people were more accepting than before. But that wasn't true, people just got better at hiding their hatred. Or at least the people I had met.

God, I shouldn't be thinking about this right now. I had to leave. I shoved clothing into my backpack, and glanced at the clock for the fifteenth time in the last minute.

8:30. That gave me three hours and thirty minutes to find a person I had never met.

Shit.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, and climbed out the window of my room, which was on the second floor. I shivered as the cold air brushed against my bare arms. I quickly ducked back into the room and grabbed an over sized hoodie I had on my bed. I pulled it on, and made my way to the ground, before sprinting down the street.  

How was I going to find them? I didn't know what they looked like, their name or anything! How would I know if I saw the color? What if they didn't love me? What if there was no soulmate and I was just sprinting through the city for no reason in the hopes I wouldn't be executed by the people who-

I was knocked to the ground. In my mad dash of panic, I had ran into someone.

"Virgil?" The person gasped.

My eyes met theirs, and I gasped as well. "Patton?"

He grabbed my arm, and helped me up. "Gosh, kiddo, I haven't seen you in years!" He exclaimed.

"Patton, we're the same age, and also, I feel really really bad for not talking to you, but right now I have-" I checked my watch, my heart sinking a bit," three hours to find a person I have never once met in my life, and I'm kind of panicking." I said quickly.

"Take a deep breath Virgil, it's going to be okay. We'll find them, okay?" He said.

I nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself.

"Okay.  Now, I'd say we should probably go to the most crowded place. There would be a lot of people, which means the chance they're there is higher, right?" Patton said.  

"I-I guess..." I muttered. He grabbed my arm again, and began dragging me along. Patton was surprisingly strong. Or I was just really underweight. Or both.

"Do you know where you're going?" I asked him, stumbling over the uneven side walk.

"Kind of." He shrugged.

He continued to run, until we came to the the mall.

"The mall? But, Patton, it's nine, no, nine fifteen, who's going to be at the mall?" I asked, desperation growing.

"Don't worry, there are people our age here." He said, reassuring me once more.

I followed him into the mall, searching for any sign of my soulmate. But everything looked the same... The sinking feeling in my chest grew, as I held back tears. They... they had to be here, right?

"Hey, don't worry, we have plenty of time, okay?"

I looked up at Patton. "What do you mean? We have hours, Patton, hours! To find someone I have never met! Pat, you met Logan in second grade! What if I don't have a soulmate? What if I'm going to be lonely forever and hunted by people who hate me because of my black eyes and lack of soulmate because I don't have a soul and-" Patton held a finger to my lips, shushing me.

"Just calm down. You have a soul, and a soulmate, I promise. Just take a deep breath, and look around." He said calmly.

I nodded again. I did as he said, but there was nothing different.

After a few minutes of looking around, we left. The time ticked down, as the hopelessness grew in my chest. We went to a few more places. Soon it was eleven fifty and everywhere was closed, save for a small theater on the square.

"I just.... I'm never going to find my soulmate, Patton... It's almost midnight... Come on, we'll just go watch a late night musical, it'll be like old times, right?" I asked, voice thick from tears.

Patton sighed sadly, brushing my tears away.  "I'm sorry... I feel like I've failed you... I wasn't there for you, and you obviously weren't in good living conditions... You've been alone for years... I'm so, so sorry." Tears welled in his eyes, and leaked out from under his glasses.

I shook my head. "No. Neither of us are going to cry anymore. Now, the last show starts in a few minutes, lets go."

We both sprinted to the theater, and sat down inside. It was four minutes until midnight. I absentmindedly glanced at the clock as it came closer and closer to midnight.

Finally, the show began. And as the clock struck midnight, I saw him.

Red... Red is a beautiful color. His eyes were like two bright gems shining in the stage lights. In moments I was up on the stage, next to him. His eyes met mine, and he swept me up into his arms.

I pulled away, a mixture of tears and happiness on both our faces.

"I'm sorry it took me so long, I tried to find you..." I said, breathless.

"Darling it's okay, you're okay, you perfect." He giggled, holding me close to him.

Slow clapping started from behind us. Soon the midnight theater was filled with the sound of cheering.

"It appears in all this uproar, I have forgotten to introduce myself." He mused. "My name is Roman."

"V-Virgil... my name is Virgil." I said.

"Virgil, will you stay with me forever and be my prince?" He asked, drawing me in closer.

My eyes filled with tears. I was loved. I buried my face in his neck and nodded, the weight of the day coming over me like waves. But at this moment, I felt happy, for the first time in years.

Red was the color of love, passion, and the eyes of the man who I would love for the rest of my life.

Bonus Ending!

Trigger Warnings: Lying, Implied Kidnapping, Blood Mention. Let me know if I need to add anything

Ships: Anxceit

A/N: Here’s the second ending! It’s angsty, dark, and there’s forced anxceit. But don’t worry, it’s not as dark as my other stories

Finally, the show began. And as the clock struck midnight, I saw him.

His eyes were like two bright gems shining in the stage lights. In moments I was up on the stage, next to him. His eyes met mine, and he swept me up into his arms.

I pulled away, a mixture of tears and happiness on both our faces.

"I'm sorry it took me so long, I tried to find you..." I said, breathless.

"I was starting to worry you wouldn't show up." He whispered, holding me close to him.

Slow clapping started from behind us. Soon the midnight theater was filled with the sound of cheering.

"In all this uproar, I forgot to ask your name." He said.

"Virgil... My name is Virgil." My heart beat faster, as he took my chin in his yellow gloved hand. My eyes traced the scar that cut across his face.

"And we shall forever be together." He said softly.

I should have listened when everyone told me red was an odd color. I know now that I wasn't the one with demonic eyes, but him. Red was the color of hatred, war, and bloodshed. I should have never left my room. I shouldn't have gone with Patton. I shouldn't have gone into the theater. And I shouldn't have been stolen away from the one I came to know as Deceit. A snake who has the ability to change his eye color to fool those into thinking they truly have a soulmate.

[astagmatism]

worn mask

face blank and emotionless,

emotionless because fatigue is all that is felt,

felt no motivation to raise the mask,

mask sadness with faux happiness,

happiness that is faked far too often,

often flawlessly executed, easily fooling everyone,

everyone prefers the imperfect copy,

copy that i hide behind,

behind smiles and laughter,

laughter and joy that ceases once they’re gone

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

You knew it was all an act, a ploy to deceive the Capital — that it was a faked love, manufactured to receive more gifts, a way to survive a little bit longer within the Games. You knew that, understood that but… it was hard and getting harder all the time to keep understanding that. You wanted it to be real so much — you hadn’t realized how much you could love someone until it was quite possibly the only positive thing you could feel.

Days into this year’s Games and you were surviving by the grace of a higher power, the Capital and its fondness for tragedy. The more they thought they deserved to witness this love story writing itself in front of them, doomed to end in death, the more support they offered. You knew it was never going to be you alone in the end but you had hope that your partner would make it — they deserved it more than you anyway, had more to actually live for back home.

So your plan had rapidly changed from merely surviving until someone bigger, better, smarter caught you to surviving so you could insure your partner made it. You didn’t think it would be easy — and it wasn’t, not by any stretch of the word — but when you had softly sang them through their nightmares one night, your mentor had been able to send you some desperately needed supplies with the simple message of ‘Keep it up’.

You had grasped their meaning and ran with it, running yourself face first into an actual love for all that it was one sided.

Your partner had grudgingly agreed with your plan to hook the Capital into supporting you and they were quick to remind you, silent and hidden, that they thought the plan was stupid and doomed to failure, most especially due to the fact they didn’t have those feelings for you and didn’t think that they could reliably fake it long enough for it to mean something.

You had simply shrugged your shoulders and told them to try harder, that you both needed to be determined to get one of you back home. The mention of being able to go back to your District was enough to light a fire under your partner.

It might hurt worse if you knew they could love you back but you still wished you had more this a fake love story to tell.

@themerrywhumpofmay