#I need to know what the tower princes talk about

[sunfloowerlatte-art]

necromancy puns

[nosyrobin]

I NEED WONDER BOY READER AND HOW THEY MET DAMIAN AND JON!!

“Is that a girl?” “IM NOT A GIRL?!”

Summary: meeting the new addition to the duo, there’s already wild first impressions

Genre: fluff

Pair: Superson trio. (Supersons x Wonderboy!reader)

Damian and Jon were in the watchtower, practically there because their fathers had a meeting. But slowly the meeting felt longer, Damian and Jon sat across from each other. Jon was asleep while Damian was awake. He dared not to close his eyes and fall asleep to an “important” meeting with his father. After the adults were done talking, Diana looked over at the supersons. She smiled and points to the two boys, “Yknow, I have a child of my own. Not very social, but would make a good addition to these two.” Immediately Damian snapped his head at the Amazon woman.

Clark smiles warmly, picking up his son who is still knocked out. “Oh yeah! Y/N. I think so too.” Damian raised a brow. He didn’t want to seem curious about this “Y/N” kid he was hearing about. But learning that the child is half Amazon or fully Amazon. He smirked, another kid to join “his” team. Amazing, maybe he can show his father that he can be a true leader. As the others leave the watch tower. Bruce drives back to the bat cave as Damian looks ahead. “Father.” Bruce hummed for his son to continue. “…when will I meet wonder woman’s heir.” Bruce smirked. “Eager are we?” Damian scoffed, now looking out the window. “Not like that father. Its just..I wanna see how she is. I wanna see if she’s just like her mother.”

Bruce held his tongue. He knew whatever happens next would be a surprise for his son. “Yes, I can see your curiosity about Y/N’s personality. But I assure you that you would be shock at how she acts.”

And oh boy would the two supersons would be shocked. Now it’s a new day, Jon and Damian were in their costumes. Batman, aka Damian’s father, aka Bruce Wayne himself asked the boys to meet him in the batcave. They did as they walked inside to see the present trinity of heroes. Batman had his stoic face and Superman was smiling. Wonder Woman was standing in-front of someone who clearly had the same material outfit as her. But when the Amazon lady moved, that’s when the two boys caught the beautiful sight of the child of the Amazon. They looked exactly like Diana. But wore pants other than a skirt. And looked more masculine, but the face is what threw the super off. Along with the boy wonder. Jon pointed a finger at the kid who seemed a little older than them. 11 at most. “Is that a girl?”

……..

“IM NOT A GIRL?!” The Amazon yelled shocked. The adults let out chuckles, even the Batman let a small one out before regaining his face. Jon felt heat hit his face of embarrassment, Damian showed shock before he switched his expression. “Wow superboy. I thought you would use your x ray vision.” Jon, still flustered looked at his best friend. “X ray vision is not supposed to be used like that Robin!” The older Amazon male snickered, which brought the boy’s attention to the male. “Jeez, what a first impression.” Wonderboy says. He walks up, holding his hand out. “Sup, I’m wonderboy. Son of Wonder Woman. But honestly, I already know your identities. Doesn’t take a genius to know.” The boy says. Jon didn’t care about his identity being known as of the minute. His manners were taking over as he shook the Boy’s hand.

“I’m superboy, Jonathan Kent. But you can call me Jon when we aren’t superheroes!” He giddily says. The boy only nods, “Okay Jon. I’m Y/N Prince. But you probably heard my name already.” Y/N winked at the super, Jon felt heat hit his face again. His ears tinted red as he quickly pulls his hand back. Damian moved forward, his arms crossed looking at the boy in-front of him. “So, you know who I am?” His face hardens. Y/N snorted with a smirk, a smirk that lifted one side of his lips to his ear. “Course I do, Damian Wayne.” Y/N ruffled the hair of the tanned boy. Damian huffs and immediately pushes the male’s hands off his head. His ears are a little red but it soon calms down. “Funny how I’m the oldest of this trio. Was hoping you guys would be at least my exact age. But that’s okay.” The Amazon boy shrugged and started to float.

Jon’s eyes light up, immediately started to float off the ground. “You can fly?! I mean of course you can fly, you’re wonder woman’s son! Omg we can fly around and catch bad guys! Have flying races! There’s so much things!” Jon was so excited to have an another flying person like him. And his age range as well! Damian clicked his tongue in distaste. Damian wasn’t jealous that his best friend was practically flying around the bat with the new addition. The superson trio was so caught up knowing about each other that they didn’t know their parents had left.

As Damian stare at the flying boys, Y/N smiles down at the boy wonder. The Amazon male swooped down and lifted the bird in his arms. “Aww birdy don’t be sad you can’t fly.” Y/N coos playfully, Damian scoffs. He can feel his facade melt, Jon chuckles as the two flying boys flew around the bat cave. Damian was fully relaxed in the boy’s arms, leaning his head against the amazon’s chest.

“Boy. It’s time to go home.” The flying boys stopped their flying. Damian immediately realized his softened demeanor and pushed himself off the Amazon male. Landing on his feet like a cat, Bruce raised a brow under his cowl at the quick switch up. Damian could only just stand there as Clark and Diana came in the batcave. It seems their little meet up to hang out has ended. Jon frowns, “Awe man…” Jon looks at Y/N. “Think we can hangout tomorrow? I have these comic books I want to show you!” Y/N nods. “Sure man!” Clark and Diana fist bumped each other, smiling as Jon hugged the Amazon boy goodbye.

After the Amazons are gone, leaving just the supers and bats. Jon pulls his dad’s cape. “Could he come to our house? PLEASEE” Clark chuckled and patted his son. “Sure sport. Sure.” Damian had his arms crossed. Looking down, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want Y/N to come over as well?” Damian stayed quiet before a curt nod was received. Bruce smiled. “Alright then, I’ll set up your play date after Jon’s.” The Kents were now gone, leaving the Waynes to their home.

Neither the less of tonight, Damian was interested in the Amazon male. His charming smile, his compassionate nature , his calming attitude that he oddly find..attractive. Jon felt the same way, his eyes were blown out wide. You would’ve seen a tail behind him wagging when he sees that the male was strong just like him. But of course Y/N is strong like him! Y/N’s an Amazon, he’s a kryptonian. Plus he loves his heart beat makes him calm. Hopefully he can get a playdate with him soon!

This trio would be legendary for the future of heroes.

[secretlysamcro]

Female reader x Jax Teller Explicit Language & Possible spoilers. If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: "Hey hey, I saw your post and wanted to req a jax x reader where there's no Tara and he's pined for reader since high school? Maybe he's asked her out a few times and been rejected bc she's nervous to get involved with the club but finally he wares her down for a date and she's surprised with how damn romantic he is with her?"

Back story: Jax and y/n go way back, high school years to be specific. Despite y/n’s consistent rejection, it never changed his affection for her. Jax understood that her reluctance to get involved with him may have stemmed from her nervousness about his affiliation with the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. Although she knew they helped the town out a lot… she had also heard rumours of the darker aspects that took place behind the closed doors of their clubhouse.

[7 years ago - the last time you saw Jax]

“So this is how it ends, huh?” Jax says, his muscular frame towering over you as he leant against the lockers. “Not even one date?” He questions, puzzled by your lack of interest.

Jax’s words hang in the air, as you feel a slight heat rising to your cheeks. Despite the undeniable attraction to him, the life that you know he’s associated with seems somewhat overwhelming and intimidating.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you looked him up and down. “Good luck prospecting Jax” you genuinely wish him well. You’d heard the whispers that Jax was officially going to be joining the motorcycle club that held significant pride for both him, and his late father.

Jax called out to you as you turned to walk away, his voice stopping you in your tracks. “Wait…y/n” he says, sounding curious. “Is that the reason you’ve never gone out with me…you got a problem with the patch or something?”

You scrambled to find the right words, feeling a mixture of concern and unease. “No…I just… I didn’t say that… I…” you manage to stutter out, not wanting to give Jax the impression that you thought badly of the patch.

Jax eyes you up and down, with that familiar Teller smirk on his face. It confirmed his skepticism. Your fumbled words hadn’t convinced him and he could tell there was more to your hesitation than what you were admitting.

“I’ve…heard things” you say softly, not wanting to offend.

“What sorts of things?” He raises an eyebrow, as he places his cap on his head - backwards of course - the words ‘reaper crew’ displayed proudly.

“Just things” you snap back, trying to avoid the conversation all together.

Jax chuckled slightly, entertained by the fact that others were talking about the club behind his back. He knew the rumours floating around held some sort of weight but no one would be able to prove anything.

“Well y/n” Jax said almost possessively, “you could’ve just said from the get go that you don’t fuck with the biker life, I would’ve left you alone” Jax delivered a playful and gentle punch to your shoulder before turning to walk away, his movements showing a hint of hurt and annoyance. It was clear that your words had struck a nerve and he was upset by your response.

[Present Day]

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath as you heard the sound of air escaping from some part of your car. Frustration boiled inside of you as you realized the cause of the sound - a popped tyre. You gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, aware of a nearby garage that was just a few minutes away.

Pulling into the Teller-Morrow garage, you couldn't help but chuckle slightly as memories of your high school days flooded your mind. You had spent most of your time dodging the Prince of Anarchy, and now, seven years later, here you were - in his very domain - needing something from him and his club.

As you navigate the lot, you park your car in an empty space just in front of the garage. You give a courteous smile to the two older men working on different vehicles inside the garage as you make your way up to the main office door. As you push through, entering the world of SAMCRO for the first time, you hear the gentle jingle of the overhead bell.

Sitting behind the desk is a short and cheerful man. His presence peculiar yet inviting. As he waves a friendly greeting you mentally question the unconventional digits on his hands. One real finger on each hand whilst the others seem strangely unfamiliar, you realise after getting a closer look that they are prosthetics.

“Bonjour Madame!” he says, perfecting his French accent. You laugh slightly, not expecting the foreign greeting. Once he learns about your flat tyre, he assures you that it will be taken care of right away. He invites you to take a seat in the waiting area as he works on getting things sorted for you.

As you cautiously settle onto the worn leather sofa, you scan your surroundings in the office. Half naked women grace the walls, Harley Davidson memorabilia, skulls and grim reapers placed around wherever there was space. Small, crumpled ���to do:’ notes thrown about, adding to the slightly chaotic atmosphere.

Your attention was interrupted abruptly by the deafening roar of motorcycles entering the parking lot. One by one riding in and parking with practiced ease. You maintain a watchful eye as you watch each of them dismount their bikes, all rocking the same attire - a leather vest with the bold words ‘SONS OF ANARCHY’ stretched across their backs accompanied by a menacing reaper emblem. One biker in particular, standing out to you.

You watch as the familiar man in question walks towards the office door with a nostalgic stride - one you’d notice anywhere. However, when he entered he remained absorbed in his phone, oblivious to his surroundings, oblivious to you. “Chuckie, have you heard from my mom?” He questions, his voice shattering the silence. His voice has grown matured and slightly rougher since the last time you had heard it.

“Non, désolé” the man you now know is called Chuckie responds.

“You know, I preferred it when you spoke in riddles” Jax says, a hint of frustration in his tone. He seemed somewhat agitated by the apparent change in Chuckie’s communication style.

Chuckies shoulders sagged slightly, and his tone softened as he spoke… “I accept that” he replies as he acknowledges Jax’s frustration.

“He said he hasn’t seen your mom” you declare, suddenly making Jax aware of your presence. He looks up from his phone, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in his eyes as he lay them on you.

Upon realising your identity, his eyes widen in a sense of delight “y/n�� as I live and breath” he exclaims, the unexpected reunion seems to overshadow any other thoughts or concerns he previously had.

“In the flesh” you say matching his sarcastic tone. Jax extends his hand, offering a helping grip to guide you up from the sofa. In a gesture, he pulls you into an embrace, pulling you in a surprising but comforting warmth. You feel the distinct texture of the patch on the back of his kutte, each thread carefully holding in to place the emblem of the reaper that marks his club.

As you both pull away, you take note of the ‘President’ patch that jax wears proudly.

“President huh?” You say with slight shock, but jax is able to detect the proudness in your voice.

Jax responds with a cocky remark, his tone laced with playfulness though. “Yeah… I guess you could say your luck helped me get here” he shoots back, referring to the last words you had spoken to each other all those years ago.

You open your mouth to rectify those words you spoke to Jax, but before you can, he cuts you off.

“I’m just messin’ with you y/n. What brings you here anyway?” He peers out of the office door, noticing a unfamiliar car. “That yours?” He questions.

Before you can respond, Chuckie, who had been silently observing your exchange from behind the desk, pipes up.

“sa voiture a un…” Chuckie stops abruptly as Jax shoots daggers with his eyes, another attempt at asking him to stop with the French bullshit. “Sorry boss… flat tyre” he says, back to his usual voice.

“Find someone and get it sorted, now” Jax says, excluding absolute authority. Chuckie rushes off from behind the desk and makes his way into the garage.

“I accept that” he says once more.

Jax notices the unspoken questions etched onto your face, the curiosity obvious in your expression. “Don’t ask” he laughs lightly, moving even closer to you.

“You know, y/n your tyre popping so close to the clubhouse might just be fate trying to bring us back together” he smirks his tone light but teasing.

In the short moment that it takes for Jax’s words to leave his lips, your mind is already racing through the different types of men you had dated in the last seven years. Polished, corporate types, the stereotypical ‘good guys’. The realisation that neither of these types ended in the relationships that you desired. Perhaps, just maybe, it was time for something riskier something more tempting. Maybe it was time to choose a different path.

“Not you still tryna get a date out of me after all these years” you respond, attempting to mirror his confidence. Jax can hear the playfulness in your tone, and it only helps to boost his ego further.

He shrugs his shoulders, at you with a playful glimmer in his eye. A glimmer you were used to except it’s aged slightly. His once smooth skin now bears a few delicate lines at the corner of either eyes, a telling tale to the amount of time passed. A slight touch of maturity and wisdom, making him even more attractive.

"I don't know your current situation, but if you're down, I'm down," he says, with anticipation, silently hoping for you to still be single.

You extend your hand in front of Jax, showing no sign of a ring. Indicating that you are currently unattached. His lips then curve into a subtle smirk and he nods in understanding.

“Well, your car might take an hour or two” he says, thoughtfully but casual. “You wanna go grab something to eat?” He locks onto your gaze, as he asks you. The suggestion hangs in the air waiting to become more so.

“What now? Like… right now?” You splutter out.

Jax finds amusement in your mild awkwardness, and he playfully mimics your earlier words, teasing, "Not you still trying to get out of it." His smile growing wider.

Hastily you respond, not wanting to give the wrong impression. “No! I’m not… I want to it’s just…” Your eyes wander down your casual attire “I’m not exactly dressed for a date” you laugh slightly embarrassed.

Jax takes a moment to consider, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible. "Alright," he says thoughtfully, his tone genuine. "Let's call it a pre-date, a date before a real date. For now, just two old friends grabbing a bite to eat. No pressure."

You nod in agreement, a soft smile breaking across your face. "Okay," you respond, accepting the terms of the 'pre-date.'

“Okay” he smiles, repeating his words, as if he can’t actually believe you’ve finally agreed. “Wait here a second? I’ve just got to let my VP know I’ll be gone for a few hours” Jax says, his presidency shining through again.

“VP?” You question.

“Vice president” he laughed, finding your lack of biker knowledge cute. “Second in command” he winks before walking out the office door.

“Right” you say, laughing to yourself, stealing a quick glance in the office mirror making sure you look at least somewhat presentable.

Outside, Jax bumps into Chuckie. “How longs that tyre gonna take chuck?” He questions lifting his head towards the car.

“Guys said about 30 minutes” Chuckie says, rushing over to Jax’s side.

Jax looks around making sure he’s unable to be heard. “Tell them to make it an hour…maybe two”

Chuckie is clearly confused, but knows better than to question jax.

“j'accepte ça” he mutters quietly under his breath. [At Franks Restaurant]

Deep in conversation, you both walk towards the doors of Franks restaurant. Jax quickens his pace, he does a swift jog to reach the doors before you. “After you, my lady” a glint of mischief in his eyes as he mimics a more sophisticated tone.

As you both enter, you notice the curious glances from the other customers. All taking in the proud statement of affiliation to the Sons of Anarchy club that Jax wears loudly on display. Some looking with admiration whilst others avoid eye contact all together.

You observe Jax exchanging friendly greetings with the waitress, a sign that this establishment is a familiar one.

As you settle into your seats opposite each other, you can’t help but notice how intensely Jax is studying you. Feeling slightly self conscious you question him, wondering why he’s being so precise.

“What is it?” You laugh lightly, trying to brush away the self doubt.

“Just thinking” he says, nonchalantly.

“Thinking about…” you drag your words out as you circle two fingers around each other encouraging him to finish his sentence.

“Why it took you so long to finally give me a chance” his answer filled with curiousity and longing.

You take a moment before you finally answer, conflicting thoughts rushing through your mind. When you think back now you wonder to yourself ‘why was I so scared to give him a chance?’ It boils down to the rumours you had heard about Jax - his family, the motorcycle club, which at the time he wasn’t even a part of - but now that you had grown and lived life yourself, you realised just how insignificant those things really were. You realise that maybe, just maybe if you had agreed to even one of those dates back then, you could have had the relationship you always desired.

You sigh softly, the memories of being young and easily influenced. “I was young, Jax…the stories and things I’d hear about your world I just… I don’t know it was all new to me”

Jax smiles at your honest response, his expression showing understanding rather than offence. The waitress brings over your food orders, and you find yourselves engaged in heartfelt conversation. You talk about the highs and lows of your lives, laughing about past relationships that never worked out, remembering your high school days and learning more about eachother’s lives.

When you’re both finished eating, Jax’s eyes linger on a small bit of food beneath your lip. His voice takes on a tone of gentle authority. “Come here” he says, as he reaches out with his thumb to gently wipe it away. His touch delicate - a contrast to the aura he gives off. The warmth of his touch sends a soft shiver down your spine leaving you wanting to feel his touch again.

As you attempt to conceal the pleasurable shiver that courses through your body, you try your best to maintain composure, but Jax as observant as he is takes note of your reaction.

"Why thank you" you respond, your voice laced with a subtle undertone of growing desire and longing.

The waitress glides over to your table with a charming smile, placing a fresh piece of cherry pie in front of you and Jax. The dessert, a complimentary treat, arrives accompanied by a single fork. She gracefully clears away the empty plates, leaving you and Jax facing the l slice of cherry pie and one lonely fork.

Jax smoothly slides the plate towards him and claims the fork, carefully selecting a piece of the pie. He does something unexpected. He leans towards you with the fork balancing a piece of pie in one and, and his other hovering just below to catch any rogue crumbs. He brings the piece of pie to your lips, maintaining strict eye contact and creating an intimate moment between the both of you as he feeds you a bite of the pie.

Jax locks eyes with you, the intensity of your stare causing him to react immediately. His slight shift in his seat betrays the growing struggle that he’s trying to hide. The air is suddenly thick with unspoken tension.

With a seductive gaze, you mirror the gesture from earlier. Taking the fork from Jax’s hand you also select a piece of pie. Balancing the fork in the air waiting for his approval. He glances around discreetly to ensure there are no prying eyes. “Can’t let people think I’m soft now” he laughs slightly, knowing in this moment he definitely is not ‘soft’ - before giving you the green light to proceed. Your heart beats with anticipation as you carefully feed him the next piece of pie.

As Jax munches on the pie, a small nod of approval follows. “That’s some good pie” clearly satisfied with his dessert.

You exchange a look across the table, a silent communication between you both that needs no words. The look between your eyes speaks volumes. It’s as if the entire world fades away in that moment, leaving only the two of you aware of something special currently unfolding.

You clear your throat a little, trying to downplay your eagerness. Glancing at the time on your phone, with a hint of reluctance you ask “So… do you think my car will be done now?” trying to shift the conversation back to reality.

Jax confidently nods his head in agreement, already having the knowledge that your tyre would have been sorted out long ago but he wanted the opportunity to spend a good amount of time with you. “Yeah, I’d say so” he replies, his eye contact still strong, as if he’s taking in all of you before he has to say goodbye.

As you both reach the cash register, you move to grab your purse from your bag. Jax takes note of your intention, his laugh soft but affectionate. He steps forward positioning himself between you and the register. “I got this, y/n it’s on me” he asserts. His gesture is both romantic and thoughtful.

Jax confidently strides out of the restaurant, as you follow with a playful remark escaping your lips. “Well aren’t you a gentleman” you tease, as you both walk back towards his bike.

He smirks in response, his words spoken with a hint of challenge. "Well, you would have found that out years ago if you weren't so scared of me," he jokes waiting for your response.

“I was not scared of you!” You say, attempting to push him playfully. Instead he counters by grabbing you mid-push lifting you off the ground before setting you back down again. Laughter spills from your lips as you feel the butterflies ignite in your stomach. “I wasn’t scared of you” you say again, making sure Jax understands.

“I’m messin’ darlin” he says, as he takes a seat on his bike. Once again, taking in all of you.

You lean against the wall, a heartfelt “Thank you” slipping from your lips. Jax can tell that you’re being sincere and you definitely were. You really did appreciate the thoughtfulness of Jax taking you out on this ‘pre-date’ and you also both acknowledged the deeper connection that has sparked between you both.

You make eye contact with him once more, a twinkle in your eye which teases him slightly. “You know Teller… I never knew you could be so…romantic”. It’s a playful acknowledgment of the unexpected side of Jax, that you have only just discovered these past hours together. A side that shows more depth, more emotions than you thought possible. A side that made you think, the tempting road ahead, was worth taking.

Jax takes in your compliment. He is very aware that he doesn’t radiate the conventional romantic aura, but hearing that from you, especially given your past rejections adds a special significance.

Jax, feeling the weight of your words and the sincerity behind them, is somewhat unsure of how to respond. He runs his fingers through his hair before putting on his helmet, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts and compose himself before responding. It’s clear that your comment has touched a deeper part of him, a part that hasn’t been touched before.

“I’m all about the fairytale, baby” he smirks, as he starts his bike up, waiting for you to join him.

Thank you so fucking much for this request! Honestly! I know it took forever but I was getting so carried away & trying to find a good place to end haha! I promise you that whatever you’ve imagined, I have too! So send in those requests I am down for writing about whatever! [I’m also rewatching again I’ve just started season 6 and I’m already crying about reaching season 7] but yes thank you thank you thank you. I hope you love it! Gifs, Photos & Music do not belong to me.

CHERRY PIE PT 2: A SLICE OF LIFE Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

[28harryssunflower]

Royal scandal - a mini series: Part 1/4

Royal scandal: Part 1

The grand dining hall of Buckingham Palace was oppressively silent, save for the sound of silverware clinking against fine china. Candlelight flickered off the polished mahogany table, casting long shadows across the velvet-draped walls.

Harry pushed the food around on his plate, barely listening to his mother’s polite small talk with one of the visiting dignitaries. His father sat at the head of the table, regal as always, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a deliberate clearing of his throat, King Edward turned his attention to Harry.

“It’s time we discuss something important,” the King said, setting his wine glass down with a soft clink. The conversation around them quieted instantly.

Harry sighed, already knowing where this was going. “Do we have to?”

“Yes.” His father’s tone was firm. “You are twenty-one, Harry. It’s time you start taking your responsibilities seriously.”

Harry exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair. “I am taking my responsibilities seriously.”

The King scoffed. “Is that what you call the drunken outings? The constant presence of your name in the tabloids? The string of women you leave behind without a second thought?”

A muscle in Harry’s jaw tightened. “What I do in my personal life is my business.”

“Not when you are the Prince of England.” The King’s voice grew sharper. “You cannot behave like some reckless commoner with no obligations. Your duty is to this country, to your people. It is time to act like it.”

Queen Anne sighed softly, placing a gentle hand on her husband’s arm. “Perhaps we should discuss this privately.”

“No, we will discuss this now,” the King said. “Harry needs to understand the weight of his position.” He turned back to Harry, eyes cold and unwavering. “You will be married within the next six months.”

Harry froze.

His fork clattered against his plate, the sound echoing through the silent room.

“What?”

“You heard me,” his father continued. “You are of age, and it is time you settle down. If you do not find a suitable wife soon, I will choose one for you.”

Harry let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “You can’t be serious.”

The King’s expression didn’t waver. “I am.”

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t just force me into a marriage.”

“You are a prince, Harry. This is how things work. A marriage will stabilize your image and strengthen alliances. You will choose a woman of noble standing, someone with grace, intelligence, and the ability to uphold the duties of a princess. No more scandals, no more reckless behavior.”

Harry pushed his chair back abruptly, the legs scraping against the marble floor. “And what if I refuse?”

His father’s eyes darkened. “Then I will make the decision for you.”

Harry clenched his fists, rage bubbling beneath his skin. “So that’s it? You’d just hand me off to some woman I don’t even love? Someone who only cares about the title, the money, the power?”

His father’s gaze remained hard. “Love is a luxury, not a necessity.”

Harry let out a bitter laugh. “That’s easy for you to say. You already have everything you want.”

Queen Anne frowned, her voice softer. “Harry, I know this may seem unfair, but-“

“No.” He cut her off, his voice sharp. “It’s not fair. It’s my life.”

His father stood, his towering presence only adding to the tension. “You are a prince before you are a man. And you will do what is required of you.”

Harry’s hands curled into fists at his sides. His entire life had been dictated by duty, by expectations, by rules. But this? This was too far.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining hall, ignoring the calls of his mother and the murmurs of the guests. He needed air. He needed an escape.

That was how he found himself in the heart of London hours later, dressed in worn jeans and a hoodie, stepping into a dimly lit bar.

The place smelled of whiskey and cigarette smoke, the low hum of conversation blending with the faint sound of a jukebox playing an old rock song. It was exactly what he needed.

Behind the bar, you were wiping down the counter when he approached. You recognized him immediately - how could you not? He was the Prince of England, his face plastered across tabloids and news outlets constantly.

But instead of gawking or treating him like royalty, you simply raised an eyebrow.

“What’ll it be?”

Harry smirked, but there was a bitterness to it. “You’re not gonna bow or curtsy?”

You snorted, leaning on the counter. “You want me to? ’Cause I’m pretty sure you came in here looking like a regular bloke for a reason.”

He blinked at you, caught off guard. Most people fawned over him, desperate for a selfie or a conversation that they could brag about later. But you… you didn’t seem to care.

And for the first time that day, Harry felt like he could breathe.

So he told you everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way you just listened, nodding along without judgment. You even did a few shots with him, making sure he had a good time. He didn’t have to be Prince Harry here - he could just be Harry.

And when the night ended, it didn’t feel like a mistake when he ended up in your bed.

One night turned into two. Then three. Then a routine.

Harry kept coming back, and you never asked for anything more than what he was willing to give. No expectations, no pressure. Just him.

But that all came crashing down one night when, at nearly 3AM, frantic knocking at your door jolted you awake.

You barely had time to open it before Harry barreled inside, his face streaked with tears, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“I can’t do this,” he choked out, collapsing into your arms. “My father’s going to start looking for a wife for me. I can’t- I won’t… be forced into some loveless marriage with a woman who only wants the title. I just want-“ He sucked in a breath. “I just want to be happy. I want love. A real family. Not something arranged for me like I’m some pawn.”

You held him, running soothing circles along his back. You wanted to say something comforting, but what words could possibly fix this?

And then, an idea struck.

“Harry,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to look into his red-rimmed eyes. “What if… what if you introduced me to them?”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“What if we got married?” You swallowed hard, nervous about his reaction. “I mean, at least we like each other. It wouldn’t be forced. And it’d buy you time - keep you from being stuck with someone awful.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “They’d never let me marry a bartender.”

“Then I won’t be a bartender.” You took a breath. “I’ll tell them I’m in college, that I’d drop out for you. We can make this work - we just have to convince them.”

He stared at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

Then, against all odds, a small, breathless laugh escaped his lips.

“You’re mad.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But so are you for coming here at 3AM crying in my arms.”

Harry let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, he looked at you again - really looked at you.

“Alright,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s do it.”

The plan was simple.

Well, as simple as introducing a commoner bartender to the King and Queen of England under the guise of being a respectable college student could be.

Harry sat across from you in your small apartment, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared at the floor. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

“This is crazy,” he muttered.

You leaned back against the couch, crossing your arms. “A little.”

“They’ll never go for it.”

You shrugged. “Not if you walk in there doubting it. You have to make them believe it.”

Harry let out a deep sigh and dragged his hands through his curls. You could tell he was struggling. He wanted a way out of this marriage arrangement, but deceiving his family - especially his mother - wasn’t something he took lightly.

“You know they’ll do a background check on you, right?” he asked.

“Obviously,” you said. “Which is why we have to be smart. I’ll tell them I’m in school, that I study… something impressive.”

“Political science,” Harry said quickly. “That would make sense. It would explain why we met - maybe at some charity event or lecture I attended.”

You nodded. “Right. And we’ve been seeing each other for months now, just keeping it quiet.”

Harry exhaled sharply, glancing over at you. “And you’d really do this?”

You looked at him, taking in the uncertainty in his eyes. This wasn’t just about helping him avoid a loveless marriage. It was more than that. Somewhere along the way, what started as casual hookups and late-night conversations had turned into something deeper. You liked him - more than you should have, more than you were willing to admit.

So you swallowed down the nerves creeping up your spine and nodded. “Yeah. I would.”

His lips parted slightly, his gaze searching yours. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he must have found it.

Because he whispered, “Okay.”

The next few days were a whirlwind of preparation.

Harry took care of the logistics, ensuring that you were given the right credentials, setting up a believable history of your supposed time at university. He even had someone help polish up your online presence - social media accounts cleaned up, LinkedIn updated with impressive details that made you sound like a brilliant up-and-coming scholar rather than a bartender slinging drinks to London’s rowdiest crowds.

Meanwhile, you practiced.

You memorized details about your “studies,” learned the etiquette of addressing royals properly (even though Harry assured you that his parents wouldn’t expect you to bow or curtsy), and prepared answers for the inevitable questions about your background.

But the hardest part wasn’t the preparation.

It was the waiting.

The night before you were supposed to meet them, Harry stayed over. You sat together on your couch, both nursing glasses of whiskey, the air between you heavy with unspoken thoughts.

“If this goes wrong…” Harry murmured, staring at his glass.

You shifted closer to him. “Then we deal with it.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is.”

Harry turned his head toward you, his green eyes filled with something unreadable. His gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest moment before he shook his head and looked away.

“I don’t deserve this,” he muttered.

You frowned. “Don’t deserve what?”

“This. You.” He swallowed. “I dragged you into this mess, and you’re willing to lie to my entire family just to help me.”

Your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t just about helping him.

But instead, you smirked and nudged his shoulder. “Well, I’m not doing it for free. I expect lifetime access to the palace’s wine collection.”

Harry huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Deal.”

Buckingham Palace was even more intimidating in person.

You had never been inside before, and now, standing in the grand foyer with its towering ceilings and ornate chandeliers, you felt very, very small.

Harry stood beside you, dressed in a sharp navy suit, looking every bit the prince he was. He had told you not to be nervous, that his mother would be kind and his father would be fair.

But none of that mattered when the King and Queen of England entered the room.

Queen Anne was graceful and poised, her smile warm as she took you in. She was beautiful, elegant in a way that made you understand why the country adored her.

King Edward, on the other hand, was… intimidating. His gaze was sharp, assessing, his posture rigid as he studied you.

“So,” the King said, his voice deep and measured. “You are the woman my son has been seeing.”

You straightened your spine, keeping your expression polite but neutral. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

There was a pause. The tension in the room was thick, like everyone was waiting for someone to say something that would determine the entire outcome of this meeting.

Queen Anne smiled. “Harry has spoken highly of you.”

You glanced at him. He was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched.

You turned back to her. “That’s very kind of him.”

“What is it you study?” the King asked.

“Political science,” you answered smoothly. “I’ve always been passionate about government and international relations.”

The Queen tilted her head. “How did you two meet?”

Harry stepped in. “At a private charity event. We got to talking about politics, and we just… connected.”

The King didn’t seem convinced. He studied you for a long moment before finally saying, “And tell me, if this were to continue - if it were to become official - would you be willing to give up your personal ambitions to stand by my son’s side?”

Your stomach twisted. This was the moment.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. “If it meant supporting Harry, then yes.”

The Queen seemed pleased with that answer. The King, however, remained unreadable.

Finally, he looked at Harry. “A word. Alone.”

Harry stiffened, but nodded.

You watched as he followed his father out of the room, your pulse pounding in your ears.

Queen Anne turned to you with a kind smile. “Would you like some tea while they talk?”

You managed a smile, but your mind was racing.

The moment the King led Harry out of the room, your stomach twisted into knots.

Queen Anne, ever the picture of warmth and grace, poured you a cup of tea with delicate hands, as if this were nothing more than an afternoon social call. You tried to steady your nerves, tried to ignore the fact that just beyond these walls, Harry was being confronted by one of the most powerful men in the world.

You wrapped your hands around the fine china cup, more for something to hold than to actually drink from it.

The Queen studied you for a moment before speaking. “I must say, I was quite surprised when Harry told us about you.”

You forced a polite smile. “I imagine so.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “Not because of who you are, but because Harry has never been one to commit. Not to anything that wasn’t forced upon him.”

Your throat tightened. Was this a test? A warning?

“You must mean a great deal to him if he brought you here,” she continued.

You hesitated before responding. “I’d like to think so.”

The Queen smiled knowingly, but there was something sharp in her eyes, something that told you she wasn’t as easily convinced as she seemed.

You were about to say something else when the doors swung open, and Harry reentered. You barely had time to assess his expression before he turned to you.

“We should go.”

Something was wrong.

You set down your tea and rose to your feet, glancing at the Queen, who simply nodded in farewell. As you followed Harry out of the room, you kept your voice low.

“What happened?”

He didn’t respond until you were outside, stepping into the sleek black car waiting to take you away from Buckingham Palace. The second the doors shut, Harry let out a sharp breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“He doesn’t believe it,” he muttered.

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“My father. He doesn’t believe us.”

You swallowed hard. “What did he say?”

Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “He said I’m lying. That this is all an act to get out of my arranged marriage. That you’re nothing more than an excuse.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “So what now?”

Harry turned to you, his jaw tight, his green eyes dark with frustration. “Now? Now he’s going to do everything in his power to prove I’m lying.”

Over the next week, the scrutiny was relentless.

The palace had people digging into your past, scouring every detail of your life, looking for any reason to dismiss you. Paparazzi started sniffing around, and before long, tabloids were already speculating about Harry’s “mystery woman.”

You’d never been under this kind of microscope before. At work, people whispered when they saw you. Your coworkers asked questions. And when the first grainy photos of you and Harry surfaced online - him walking you to your door, his hand lingering on your waist - the media frenzy only grew worse.

But the real pressure came from within the palace itself.

Queen Anne invited you to lunch three days after your meeting, her expression as gentle as ever but her words careful. “You must understand,” she said, her hands folded neatly on the table, “this isn’t just about Harry. It’s about the monarchy, about the future of the country. If you truly care for him, you must be prepared for what this life entails.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a challenge.

And then there was the King.

He summoned you alone one evening, without Harry’s knowledge. The meeting took place in one of the palace’s smaller sitting rooms, the air thick with unspoken tension.

The King sat across from you, his sharp eyes assessing, calculating. “You think this will work?” he asked bluntly.

You held his gaze. “I think Harry should be allowed to choose his own future.”

A small, humorless smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “And you believe you are that future?

You swallowed, keeping your expression steady. “I believe I care about him enough to try.”

The King leaned forward, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, how much is he paying you?”

The words struck like a slap. Your breath caught in your throat, but you refused to let the shock show.

“I’m sorry?”

The King’s lips curved into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so cold. “I know my son. He is desperate to escape the obligations placed upon him, desperate enough to go to great lengths to do so.” He tilted his head. “So tell me - how much did he offer you? Money? Status? What was the deal?”

Your blood ran cold.

Your entire life, you had been underestimated, dismissed by people who thought they were better than you. But this - this was the King of England accusing you of being a gold-digger, a liar, a pawn in his son’s game.

And you wouldn’t stand for it.

You straightened your shoulders and met his gaze head-on. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I don’t need Harry’s money. I don’t need his title. I don’t need anything from him.”

The King studied you, but you weren’t done.

“I didn’t come into his life looking for a way out of mine. And I certainly didn’t agree to this relationship because of what he could offer me. I care about him. I see him as a person, not just a prince. And if that’s not good enough for you, then I don’t know what is.”

A beat of silence passed.

And then, to your utter shock, the King chuckled.

It was a deep, knowing sound, like he had expected you to break and was almost impressed that you hadn’t. He stood, brushing nonexistent dust off his perfectly tailored suit.

“Well then,” he said. “I suppose we’ll see how long you last.”

And just like that, he walked out, leaving you alone in the vast, empty room.

Your hands trembled slightly as you exhaled.

This wasn’t just a test anymore.

This was war.

When you told Harry about the conversation later that night, he was furious.

“He what?” Harry’s voice was sharp, his hands clenched into fists as he paced your apartment. “He accused you of- bloody hell.”

You sat on the couch, watching him wear a hole into your floor. “Harry, calm down.”

“No.” He stopped, turning to you with fire in his eyes. “He had no right to do that. No right to treat you like-” He cut himself off, his jaw tight.

You stood, walking over to him and resting a hand on his arm. “I handled it.”

Harry’s expression softened slightly, but the frustration didn’t leave his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

You sighed. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy. And honestly? I think your dad respects me more now.”

Harry let out a breath, dragging a hand through his curls. “That makes one of us.”

You smirked. “Oh, come on. What would be the fun in this if there wasn’t a bit of royal drama?”

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

You grinned. “And yet, here we are.”

Harry exhaled and cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Here we are.”

And as he kissed you, slow and deep, you realized something terrifying.

This wasn’t just a plan anymore.

You were falling for him.

And if this all went wrong, you weren’t sure your heart would survive it.

It had been two weeks since your confrontation with the King.

Two weeks of scrutiny, of whispered meetings with Harry in your apartment, of watching the media dissect every little movement you made. The palace hadn’t officially acknowledged your relationship, but the press had already put the pieces together. Every tabloid ran their own version of the story - some calling you a mystery scholar, others labeling you a gold-digger who had seduced the prince.

And through it all, Harry had been by your side.

He showed up at your apartment almost every night, exhausted and frustrated, but unwilling to let this fight go. You’d stay up for hours, strategizing your next move, trying to find a way to win his father over. But as much as you prepared, you knew one thing - if the King had already made up his mind, nothing would change it.

And that became painfully clear when Harry got the news.

The King had begun the search for his future wife.

Harry stormed into your apartment that night, his face red with anger, his curls a mess from running his hands through them. The moment he saw you, he grabbed your face and kissed you - desperate, urgent, like he needed to remind himself that you were real.

When he pulled away, he was breathing heavily.

“He’s doing it,” he spat. “He’s already selecting candidates. He’s meeting with their families, setting up discreet meetings.”

You felt your stomach drop.

“Harry-“

“I won’t do it.” His voice was sharp, unwavering. “I won’t marry some aristocrat I don’t know. I won’t be forced into a life I don’t want.”

You swallowed, reaching for his hands. “Then we have to do something.”

He exhaled shakily, his grip tightening around yours. “Like what?”

And that’s when the idea hit you.

“An engagement.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

You took a deep breath. “If we announce our engagement first - publicly - then your father will have no choice but to acknowledge us. He can’t force you into another marriage if the world already sees you as taken.”

Harry stared at you, his green eyes searching yours. “That’s insane.”

You shrugged. “A little.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, to your shock, Harry let out a small, breathless laugh.

“You’re serious.”

You lifted a brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Because this isn’t just pretending anymore. This would mean… forever.”

Something in your chest tightened, but you kept your voice steady. “Is that really so bad?”

Harry’s expression shifted. He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not if it’s with you.”

Your breath caught.

And then, just like that, the decision was made.

The palace was in chaos.

The moment Harry posted a simple photo on Instagram - his hand wrapped around yours, a stunning engagement ring on your finger - the world erupted.

News outlets scrambled for statements. Social media went into a frenzy. And within an hour, Buckingham Palace was forced to issue a public response.

You sat in your apartment, your phone buzzing nonstop, watching the royal spokesperson deliver a carefully worded statement on TV.

“His Royal Highness Prince Henry has announced his engagement. The Royal Family was not made aware of this decision beforehand, but we offer our congratulations and will provide further statements in due course.”

Not exactly the warmest endorsement.

But it didn’t matter. Because now, the entire world knew.

And that meant the King couldn’t erase you.

Harry had warned you that the palace would summon you soon.

He just didn’t expect it to happen the next morning.

You barely had time to process the news before a sleek black car arrived at your apartment, and suddenly, you were being driven straight to Buckingham Palace.

By the time you entered the grand hall, your nerves were on fire.

Harry was already there, standing tall in front of his parents. Queen Anne looked composed, her lips pressed together as she studied you. But King Edward…

He was furious.

His gaze cut through you like a blade. “So this is how you do things?” he said coldly. “Announcing an engagement without our approval? Trapping us into accepting this circus?”

Your heart pounded, but you refused to back down. You lifted your chin. “Harry made his choice.”

The King scoffed. “A choice? No, this is manipulation. A desperate attempt to back us into a corner.” His sharp eyes turned to Harry. “And you. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” Harry said, his voice unwavering. “I chose her.”

The King clenched his jaw. “Do you even understand the consequences of this? You think you can just marry some commoner and expect the world to accept it?”

Harry’s expression darkened. “Maybe the world would accept it if you did.”

The tension was suffocating.

And then, for the first time, Queen Anne spoke.

“I’d like a moment alone with her.”

Everyone turned to look at her. The King frowned, but after a long pause, he nodded. “Fine.”

Harry hesitated before turning to you. His fingers brushed against yours in a silent reassurance before he followed his father out of the room.

And then it was just you and the Queen.

She studied you for a long moment before finally speaking. “Are you in love with him?”

The question caught you off guard. You opened your mouth, then closed it.

Were you?

This had started as a plan - a way to protect Harry from an arranged marriage. But somewhere along the way, you had fallen. Fallen for his laughter, his late-night rants about music, the way he looked at you like you were the only person who had ever really seen him.

So you took a deep breath and told the truth.

“Yes.”

Queen Anne’s expression didn’t change. “And do you truly believe you can handle this life?”

You swallowed. “I don’t know. But I’m willing to try.”

She was silent for a moment. Then, to your shock, she let out a soft chuckle.

“You remind me of myself,” she murmured.

You blinked. “What?”

She smiled, but there was a knowing sadness in her eyes. “When I married Edward, I wasn’t what the world expected, either. I was too bold, too outspoken, too… untraditional.” She sighed. “But I loved him. And I fought for my place here.”

She met your gaze.

“So if you truly love my son, then fight for him.”

Your breath caught. “Does that mean…?”

The Queen smiled faintly. “It means I won’t stand in your way.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

She wasn’t giving you full approval. Not yet.

But she was giving you a chance.

And right now, that was more than enough.

When you walked out of the room, Harry was waiting.

The moment he saw you, he rushed forward, his hands finding yours. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, then smiled.

“She’s on our side.”

Harry’s lips parted in shock. Then, without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, lifting you slightly off the ground.

And as he kissed you - right there in the halls of Buckingham Palace - you realized something.

This wasn’t a plan anymore.

This was real.

And you were ready to fight for it.

You weren’t surprised when the King requested to see you alone.

After all, Queen Anne may have been willing to give you a chance, but King Edward? He wasn’t one to accept things so easily.

So when a royal advisor arrived at your apartment with the summons, you didn’t hesitate. You knew what this was. A test. A final attempt to break you, to make you doubt yourself, to push you into walking away.

But you weren’t going anywhere.

You were led through the grand halls of Buckingham Palace, your footsteps echoing against the marble floors. Every corner of this place reminded you that you didn’t belong here - not yet. But if the King thought he could intimidate you into submission, he was about to be very disappointed.

The advisor finally stopped in front of a massive oak door. “He’s waiting inside,” he said stiffly.

You nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped in.

King Edward was seated in a large armchair near the fireplace, his posture straight, his hands folded neatly over his knee. The room was dimly lit, the flickering flames casting shadows across his face. He didn’t look up immediately, instead staring at the fire as if deep in thought.

You didn’t speak first. If there was one thing you’d learned from watching him, it was that he commanded every room he was in. He expected obedience. Expected people to fold under his silence.

So you waited.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled sharply through his nose and turned his gaze toward you.

“Sit.”

It wasn’t a request.

But you stayed standing.

“I’d rather not.”

His brow arched slightly, the first sign of surprise. “Is that so?”

You lifted your chin. “If you called me here just to intimidate me, Your Majesty, I’d rather skip the formalities.”

Something flickered in his eyes - annoyance, amusement, you weren’t sure. He studied you for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair.

“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”

You shrugged. “I think I love your son.”

His jaw tightened. “Love.” He let the word linger in the air before scoffing. “Do you have any idea what it means to love someone like Harry? What it means to be part of this family?”

“I understand more than you think.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Then you understand that this isn’t a fairy tale. You are not a princess. You are not meant for this life.”

You clenched your fists. “Who decides that? You?”

“Yes.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. “I decide. Because I have spent my entire life protecting this family, this monarchy, from people like you.”

Your nails dug into your palms. “People like me?”

“People who don’t understand what this life requires. People who think love is enough to survive it. People who will break under the weight of it.” His eyes burned into yours. “You think you’re ready for this? Ready to be scrutinized, criticized, torn apart by the press? Ready to be hated by the people who don’t believe you deserve to stand beside him? Ready to sacrifice your life, your privacy, your freedom?”

Your throat tightened. You had thought about it. But hearing it like this - so brutally, so coldly - made it real.

Still, you didn’t back down.

“I don’t care what the press says about me,” you said firmly. “I don’t care about the public’s approval. I don’t care about titles or palaces or any of this.” You took a step forward, your voice unwavering. “The only thing I care about is Harry. And I won’t walk away just because you think I should.”

The King’s expression darkened. “You are playing a dangerous game.”

“So are you.” You met his gaze without flinching. “Because if you keep pushing Harry away, you’ll lose him.”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. “You think he’d leave his family?”

“I think he’s already considering it.”

That hit its mark.

For the first time, King Edward looked genuinely unsettled.

Good.

You took another step forward, your voice softening just enough. “I don’t want to take him from you. I don’t want to be the reason he walks away. But if you force him into a life he doesn’t want… if you push him into a marriage that will make him miserable… he will leave.”

Silence.

The King stared at you, his expression unreadable.

And then, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, he said, “Do you truly love him?”

You swallowed hard. “Yes.”

He exhaled slowly, his eyes closing for a brief moment. When he looked at you again, something in his gaze had shifted.

Not acceptance. Not approval.

But understanding.

“Then prove it.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“If you truly love my son,” the King said, standing to his full height, towering over you, “then prove it. Prove that you can handle this life. That you can handle me.”

You squared your shoulders. “I already have.”

His lips twitched, like he wanted to smirk but refused to.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked past you, leaving the room.

The moment the door shut behind him, you finally exhaled, your hands shaking.

You had won - for now.

But this war wasn’t over.

Not yet.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before the door finally opened again.

Harry rushed in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His brows were furrowed, his jaw tense. “What did he say to you?”

You swallowed, still feeling the weight of the conversation. “He tested me.”

Harry stepped closer, reaching for your hands. His were warm, steady - grounding. “What do you mean?”

You met his gaze. “He wanted me to back down. To walk away. To prove that I wasn’t strong enough for this.”

Harry exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Of course he did.” His grip tightened around yours. “And?”

You let out a slow breath. “I didn’t.”

His expression softened, something like admiration flickering in his green eyes. “You stood up to him.”

You gave a small, tired smile. “For you? Always.”

Harry cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “You shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

“But I will.” You held his gaze, unwavering. “If that’s what it takes, I will.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh, but there was something vulnerable in it. Like he wasn’t used to being fought for. Like he had spent his whole life being treated as an asset, a pawn in the monarchy’s game. And now, here you were, standing in front of him - defying the King himself - just to be with him.

His lips met yours, slow and lingering, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken word into the kiss. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you.” His voice was hoarse, like the words had been sitting on his tongue for too long.

Your breath hitched. You had known it - felt it - but hearing it was something else entirely.

You smiled, your fingers curling around his collar. “I love you too.”

A soft knock at the door made you both pull apart.

A royal advisor stepped in, looking as stiff as ever. “His Majesty requests an audience with the Prince.”

Harry frowned. “Alone?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Harry looked back at you, hesitation flickering across his face. You squeezed his hand. “Go,” you whispered. “See what he wants.”

He exhaled through his nose, clearly reluctant, but nodded. He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before following the advisor out of the room.

And you?

You stayed behind, your mind spinning.

Because while you had won the first battle, you knew the war was far from over.

Harry returned hours later, his face unreadable as he shut the door behind him.

You stood from the couch immediately. “What happened?”

Harry dragged a hand through his curls before finally looking at you. “He gave me a choice.”

Your stomach dropped. “What choice?”

His jaw clenched. “Stay in the royal family and marry someone of his choosing… or leave it all behind.”

Silence.

Your heart pounded. “Harry…”

His eyes softened as he stepped forward, his hands settling on your waist. “I told him my answer before he even finished speaking.”

You swallowed hard. “Which is?”

His thumb brushed against your hip. “You.”

Your breath caught.

Harry took a deep breath, his voice steady. “I’d rather walk away from the crown than lose you.”

Tears burned the back of your eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His hands moved to cradle your face. “I was born into this, but it’s not my life. It’s theirs. And if I have to give it up to be happy, then so be it.”

You shook your head, emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I don’t want you to resent me-“

“I could never resent you.” His gaze was fierce, unwavering. “You are the only thing in my life that feels real. And I won’t let my father take that from me.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “What happens now?”

Harry’s lips pressed into a firm line. “We fight.”

And looking into his eyes, you knew one thing for sure.

You weren’t fighting alone.

You weren’t going to stand by and let this happen.

The moment Harry told you what his father had said - what he was threatening - something inside you snapped.

You knew the King didn’t approve of you. That he wanted you gone. But to go as far as to force Harry to choose between you and his entire family?

No. Absolutely not.

So while Harry was in another wing of the palace, distracted in a meeting, you stormed through the halls of Buckingham Palace with a fire in your veins. The staff gawked as you passed, but no one dared to stop you. Maybe it was the determination in your stride, or maybe they were simply too stunned to believe what they were seeing - a commoner marching straight toward the King’s office unannounced.

You didn’t knock.

You pushed open the heavy oak doors with more force than necessary, making them slam against the walls.

King Edward looked up from his desk, startled for only a second before his expression turned to cold disapproval.

“You are out of line,” he said sharply.

You didn’t care.

You stepped inside, shutting the doors behind you. “You can’t do this to him.”

The King leaned back in his chair, regarding you with a blank expression. “Do what?”

“Don’t play games with me.” Your voice shook with anger. “You know what. You can’t just kick your own son out of the family because he refuses to be your puppet.”

Edward’s eyes darkened. “You think this is my doing? Harry made his own choice.”

“No, you forced his hand.” You stepped closer, slamming your hands onto his desk. “You gave him an impossible choice: abandon me or abandon his entire family. Do you even hear yourself?”

His jaw tightened, but he remained silent.

Your chest heaved, your voice growing desperate. “You’re supposed to be his father. His family. And instead of supporting him, you’re pushing him away. You’re punishing him for wanting to be happy.”

King Edward let out a slow breath, his gaze sharp. “And what would you have me do? Let him throw away centuries of tradition for a woman who doesn’t belong in this world?”

You clenched your fists. “I don’t give a damn about tradition. What I care about is Harry. And whether you like it or not, he’s still your son. You can’t just cut him off because he refuses to live his life according to your rules.”

The King studied you, his eyes cold. “And why do you care so much? Is it because you fear losing your new luxurious lifestyle?”

Your anger flared so hot it nearly burned.

“You think this is about money?” Your voice rose, filled with frustration. “You think I’m doing all of this because I want a title? A palace? You have no idea who I am.”

The King arched a brow. “Enlighten me, then.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to steady. “I love Harry. Not because he’s a prince. Not because of his wealth or his status. I love him because he’s kind. Because he’s funny and stubborn and passionate. Because he’s the only person who has ever truly seen me.” You swallowed hard, eyes burning. “And I refuse to let you take him away from the people who love him just because he refuses to be your perfect prince.”

Silence.

You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the tension in the air so thick it was suffocating.

But you didn’t back down.

“I will fight for him,” you continued, voice unwavering. “I will fight for his happiness, for his right to choose his own life. Even if it means standing against you, I won’t give up on him.”

For a moment, the King just stared at you.

And then-

He grinned.

A slow, amused grin that made your stomach twist.

“Welcome to the family.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

The King leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “You passed.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

His smirk deepened. “You think I was really going to cast my own son out?” He scoffed. “Harry may be reckless, but he’s still mine. I needed to see if you were strong enough to stand by him. If you’d crumble under pressure… or if you’d fight for him.”

Realization hit you like a freight train.

“This was all a test?” you said in disbelief.

The King’s expression turned knowing. “Did you really think I’d let my son marry someone who wouldn’t protect him?” He exhaled, shaking his head. “Harry is emotional. Impulsive. He needs someone who will stand their ground, someone who won’t walk away when things get difficult.” He gave you a pointed look. “And you just proved that you’re exactly that person.”

You were still reeling. “So… you approve?”

The King chuckled, standing from his chair. “I wouldn’t go that far.” He smirked. “But I’ll allow it.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. After everything - every argument, every moment of doubt - he was letting you stay.

You had won.

Just as you were about to respond, the doors suddenly flew open again.

Harry stormed in, his green eyes wide with panic. “What the hell is going on?” His gaze darted between you and his father, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I leave for one hour and suddenly you’re having a meeting without me?”

You turned to him, still stunned. “Harry…”

The King smirked. “Relax, son. Your little spitfire here just proved herself.”

Harry blinked, completely thrown. “Proved herself?”

The King clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “She’s a fighter. You chose well.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “Wait- you mean?-“

“I won’t stand in your way,” Edward said simply. Then he turned to you, eyes glinting with something almost… proud. “But be warned, young lady - being part of this family is no easy task.”

You lifted your chin. “I never expected it to be.”

The King studied you for a final moment before nodding. “Good.” He glanced at Harry. “Try not to embarrass me, son.”

And with that, he strode past both of you, leaving the office like nothing had happened.

Harry stared after him, then turned to you. “What the hell just happened?”

You let out a breathless laugh, still processing. “I think… we won.”

Harry blinked. Then, without warning, he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You shrieked in surprise, laughing as he kissed you - deep, desperate, filled with relief.

When he set you back down, he pressed his forehead against yours. “You did this for me?”

You smiled. “I’d do anything for you.”

His green eyes burned with love. “God, I love you so much.”

And as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you knew - this was just the beginning.

The moment the King gave his reluctant approval, everything changed.

There was no more hiding, no more sneaking around. The press exploded with headlines about Prince Harry’s shocking engagement to a commoner, the royal advisors scrambled to prepare the public for the news, and the palace staff suddenly had to make space for you in Buckingham Palace.

And you?

You were caught in the middle of a whirlwind.

Standing in your tiny apartment, surrounded by half-filled boxes, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness.

This place had been yours. A space that belonged to no one else, where you had lived freely, without the weight of the crown pressing down on you.

Now, you were about to trade it all for a palace.

For him.

Harry sat on your couch, watching as you folded a sweater into a box labeled clothes. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers playing with the rings on his hand.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You exhaled, forcing a smile. “Yeah. It’s just… weird.”

Harry nodded, understanding. “I get it. This is a big change.”

You looked at him, searching his face. “Are you sure about this? About me moving in?”

Harry scoffed, standing up and wrapping his arms around you. “Are you kidding? I’ve been dreaming about this since the first time I woke up in your bed.” His lips brushed against your temple. “I want you there. I want to fall asleep with you every night. Wake up with you every morning.”

Your heart melted a little. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you, love.” He smirked before looking around the apartment. “Do you want to keep this place?”

You hesitated.

“I mean… it’s not like I need it,” you admitted. “But it’s the first place that ever felt like mine, you know?”

Harry nodded in understanding. “Then keep it.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

His smile was soft. “You don’t have to live here, but it can still be yours. Somewhere to escape when the palace gets too much.”

Your chest tightened. How did he always know exactly what you needed?

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I love you so much.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

Walking into the palace with your belongings felt surreal.

The grand halls, the expensive paintings, the endless corridors - it still didn’t feel real. You weren’t just visiting anymore. You lived here now.

Staff members were already bringing in your boxes, setting them in the suite you’d now share with Harry. It was massive, more like an apartment within the palace itself, with high ceilings, antique furniture, and a balcony overlooking the royal gardens.

You turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.

“This is insane,” you whispered.

Harry grinned, leaning against the doorway. “A bit different from your apartment, huh?”

You shot him a playful glare. “Just a bit.”

He walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “You’ll get used to it.”

You leaned into him, sighing. “I don’t want to lose myself, Harry.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “You won’t. You’re you - the woman who stormed into my father’s office and yelled at the King of England.” He chuckled. “Trust me, no palace is gonna change you.”

You smiled, relaxing into his embrace.

Maybe he was right.

The next few weeks were absolute chaos.

Meetings with royal advisors, endless dress fittings, security briefings, and etiquette lessons that made your head spin. There were rules to follow now - how to sit, how to speak, how to wave (yes, there’s an actual royal wave).

Every day was another step closer to the wedding.

And every day, it felt more real.

One afternoon, you sat in the Queen’s private sitting room, flipping through a massive book of wedding venue options. Queen Anne sat across from you, poised and elegant as ever, but her gaze was warm.

“You must be exhausted,” she said knowingly.

You exhaled, nodding. “There’s just… a lot to take in.”

She smiled. “That’s an understatement.”

You hesitated before speaking. “How did you handle it? When you married the King?”

Her smile faltered just slightly, as if she were recalling something distant. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “I had to fight for my place, just like you.” She studied you for a moment. “But I see now why Harry chose you. You’re stronger than you realize.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest. “Thank you.”

She nodded, flipping to another page in the book. “Now, let’s pick a venue before the King takes over and insists on Westminster Abbey.”

You laughed. “God forbid.”

She smirked. “Exactly.”

For the first time, you felt like you truly belonged.

This wedding - this life - was yours. And you were ready.

The morning of your wedding dawned with a golden sunrise spilling through the palace windows. The air buzzed with nervous excitement, and the entire world seemed to be watching.

Today, you would officially become a member of the royal family.

[inkedcerulean]

an alliance in waiting | chapter one

jacaerys velaryon x fem!frey reader

summary: when jacaerys arrives to treat with the freys, forrest and sabitha frey propose a betrothal between you and him— a betrothal you are not aware of.

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of war & death

notes: i based the reader partially off of myself. (projection time!)

jace taglist: @hotdhoe @chimmysoftpaws chocotorta2027 @drvcosstuff @emilly-adopted-mcmann @charlottelaffin @suniika @princessofthereach @twilightzone24 @ghizlana @yohanseyebrowmole @fairyjuhak22 @francislovergirl @viserraslawyer @ackerman0-0

Jacaerys set down his goblet and looked at Forrest and Sabitha Frey. Negotiations of Harrenhal were set; the Freys would take the castle at the war’s end. He could not help but feel a little proud of himself, for he had improved his mother’s standing alone.

Lord Frey took a bite of his provisions. “There is one more thing.”

Jace looked at him. “What is it?”

“My Prince, you are a man grown. And word has it that you have not secured a betrothal as of yet.”

Jace knew, if only in the back of his mind, that talk would soon arise about this; he would not let future whispers begin, calling him The Heirless King or Jacaerys the Unbetrothed. His mother would be pleased with the Frey’s allyship, but this implication dove into complexities. To secure an alliance was one thing, but to have his feet in another negotiation was another. Vigilance was key.

“That is correct.”

“One of our daughters is eight and ten, two years my Prince’s senior,” Lord Frey said, then pursed his lips and looked down at his feet. “She has not secured a marriage either. After the war is won and Her Grace sits upon the throne, we would like to propose a betrothal between you and our lady daughter.”

A Frey Queen Consort… it was certainly an audacious prospect. Jace had been thankful that his mother had not pestered him about the idea of marriage yet. He had a claim to uphold, not a betrothal to secure. Or so he thought.

Jace knew that he had to choose his next steps carefully. The war was not won yet, and his family were to be dependent on the Freys’ honor until the end. If he refused, they could deny their crossing and obiscience. Looking at their faces made the decision more pressing. He knew that he could not let his reservations show. That would be a weakness.

“I will send word to my mother. I cannot guarantee that she will send her approval, but there is no need to fear the mood of her response.”

“See to it that she hears the advantage of this.”

You were glad that you were not in the midst of the war between the Hightowers and the Targaryens. The Twins was more than a shelter from the war that only suffocated you into loneliness and mundanity. This was the fate of so many ladies of the realm, to keep themselves in one place and never have the agency of motion. It was a fate you wished to resist.

“You plotted my marriage without my consent?” you spat.

“I know that you wished to get married.”

“To get married, yes, but only if the suitor is mine to choose!”

“The wedding would be in weeks of his arrival, there is plenty of time for courting.”

“Then we have a different perception of time, perhaps.”

The Prince was said to be quite comely, but great beauties are only made so by truly knowing them. He could be the most handsome young man in the seven kingdoms, but if he was not fit to be your companion for life, you would have been swept away into a life of misery. Routinely, you spent your days pacing from the West Tower to the East praying that this kind of misery would not find you. And now you feared it did.

“Sweetling, do not be angry with me. You know the difficulties of being a woman and how the lords of the realm perceive us. Having the Targaryens as an ally, and one bound in blood at that, will help us greatly. Your father and I took action at the first moment.”

Briefly, you thought of Queen Rhaenyra. You both shared a similar plight, only the irony was that her son will invoke your own even more. But it could not be denied that you had wanted a romance in your life. You had experienced the bare bones of suitors; they would smile and look at you at feasts, then their attention would be occupied with another lady.

The war had brought another tear upon your life. Your friends, the ladies Roesaynne, Leona, and Gertrude, were frequent guests at your keep, as you were at theirs.  But recently, you had been given word that their lord fathers had sequestered them within their castles. You had not seen them since. You understood the reason; dragons were fearsome creatures that may descend from the sky at any time. It was best to keep the nobles safe from that prospect. As safe as they could be, and left for misery to strike them as you suspected it did.

You fidgeted with the velvet sleeve of your dress. “What could you perceive of him?” you asked, your tone much quieter. “His character?”

“He was quite even-tempered.”

You shook your head minutely. Even an hour’s worth of conversation would not be enough. The Prince had not laid waste to the Crossing with his dragon, true, but you knew that the greatest conflicts of the Realm were from disagreements amongst the nobles. There was nothing saying that this would not be the same. And there was the obvious fact: the Prince of Dragonstone was a dragon rider. Wise as you tried to be, you feared him for this. Would your own lord father instruct you to stay inside your castle like your friends were?

There was no place for you here for much longer. One of your brothers, Gunther, three years your elder, would inherit the Crossing, and your sister would soon be married. On paper, marrying the Prince was a miracle.

The door bursted open with a loud thunk. Both you and your mother turn your heads toward it. It was your little sister, Marsella, enthusiasm ripe on her face.

“Mother! I saw him,” she giggled.

“Not now, Marsella.”

Marsella’s face was flush as spring. “I saw the Prince and Vermax, though the others were too stupid to look for him before they went away. He was—”

“Please, leave us,” your mother commanded.

Marsella’s face fell, and your eyes saddened when they found hers. She then turned and left, shoulders caving in. You would see to her afterwards.

“Where, might I ask, will the wedding take place?” Being a lady of the realm meant that you could never be comfortable anywhere. You were told by your mother’s friends not to get attached to any setting, since men, hungry for power and status, often brought in a new environment.

“At the Red Keep, as will your courting.”

“It will not,” you said.

“Do not meddle with the plans that have been so carefully forethought!” Her voice broke midway, and she clasped a hand around her mouth and turned her head to the side. “I am sorry. I have a great stress on me. What is it that you wish to be changed?”

“Not the location of the wedding, that is a logical place for it to be held,” you said. “But the courtship, please, mother, let him come here instead. if you truly want this to be a success, he must know me, and where my roots are from.” You saw the opportunity for this small agency: the Prince, learning about your home from you… you hoped that it would spark a subtle intimacy. You knew it was a foolish thought, but if the war was to be won by the rightful queen, such comfort could be afforded. Or so you hoped.

“Very well, my dear.”

[justauthoring]

the trees told me about you.

the trees whisper to you and gojo thinks that makes you special.

a/n: i just started watching frieren and i NEEDED something fantasy okay???? also, i love him <3

pairing: prince!gojo satoru x f!elf!reader

The trees whisper to you.

Whisper words that ghost past your ears and leave your eyes sparkling with warmth, staring at the twinkling green leafs that bristle in the wind. 

No one else can hear them, except for you. 

Some think you're mad, others just don’t like you cause you’re different – either way, you’ve long ago learned not to care.

Because the trees speak to you, tell you secrets of the world and bring you the love you’ve never felt elsewhere. They don’t judge you because you look different, and they make you feel included – loved.

So even though you’re glared at and cruel words are whispered behind your back;

She’s not right. Spending her days talking to trees…

They say her parents abandoned her when she was young… you don’t have to wonder why.

What a lonely life… but no one wants to talk to a girl who thinks trees speak.

You’ve learned that there’s no point worrying and no point in trying to change their minds. 

A life of solitude is one you’ve accepted for yourself. And besides, you don’t feel all that alone in the first, shrouded by trees, protected from the small, the feeling of the dirt and grass and earth beneath your fingers as you smile and laugh and talk.

Yeah, you don’t feel alone at all.

At least, until you meet him.

-

“You know they all think you’re insane, right?”

A moment ago, you’d been positive you’d been alone. You hadn’t heard him walk up, the crunch of his footsteps along the forest floor or even the rustling of his clothing; so when you hear his voice, so much louder, harsher, sharper than the voices that whisper in your ears, it makes you jump.

You’re startled, incredibly so. You lose your footing beneath you, your bum hitting the ground harshly as you turn your head to face the voice, worrying just who it was that had snuck up on you.

It’s a boy. Roughly your age, or at least you assume so. He’s tall. Even though you’re on the ground, you know he’d tower over you. He’s got bright white hair that shifts to a purple hue when the sun hits him just right. And his eyes are a striking blue that rivals even the sky and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

You’d lived in your small village all your life and you’re positive you’ve never seen this boy before.

“Who… who are you?” Your words come out shakier than you want but then again, you’re not all that accustomed to speaking to others. Most of your time is spent listening… and even you know there’s a difference between listening to trees and real people. You’ve never had someone speak so directly to you before – most of the time, they opt for whispering behind your back even though both you and them are aware you can hear them.

Still, you force yourself to speak; “what are you doing here?”

He’s grinning. Ear to ear. And it’s wide and it’s bright and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that seems some sort of mischievous, yet, the smile feels real and genuine and almost… kind(?).

Then, he’s crouching, moving so he’s more level to you and his head tilts to the right. “Gojo Satoru,” he introduces, saying his name with pride. “And I am going for a light stroll in the woods.”

Gojo Satoru…

Gojo…

That’s… that’s last the name of the king—

Your eyes widen, instantly shifting to meet his gaze while he continues to just smile at you, bright and happy, hands clasped in front of him without a care in the world. You take in his clothes properly then, the detailing and the quality of the fabric, hemmed with laces – clothes you’ve never even had half enough coin to buy.

Clothes you’d never be able to buy.

You’d heard the King had a son but you’d never seen him or any drawings of him either.

A boy that looks like this though? Looks like he could be the King’s son.

“I ventured through the village beforehand,” he gestures over his shoulder. “You are not well-liked.” 

You blink out of your daze, frowning at his words.

Shifting, you move so you’re sitting straighter, straightening out your blouse as you glare at him. “That’s rather rude.”

He shrugs, still grinning. “You didn’t deny it though.”

And you frown because you know he’s right.

“Okay, so, what’s the King’s son doing taking a stroll in the woods well outside of the castle grounds?”  

He pauses, raising a brow; “so you did recognize me…” He hums lightly, pointing at you. 

You nod; “yes, I did.”

You’re well aware that your lack of respect for the King’s son could get you arrested, or worse. But, you don't care all that much. You figure that Gojo would’ve done something by now if he was really bothered by it, and… well, he’s the one who snuck up on you in the first place.

Laughing lightly, Gojo shrugs; “couldn’t stand being there anymore.”

You raise a brow; “the castle?”

He nods. “It’s so… stuffy! Gods, no one knows how to have any fun in there! And I'm constantly getting reprimanded for trying to liven the place up a little.” His words are dramatic, doubled by his actions as he wildly waves his hands around, rolling his eyes as he sulks. “You’d think royalty, with all the money we have, would know how to make things at least a little exciting… but no! They’re dreadfully boring.”

He finishes his rambling with a loud huff, and a second passes before you burst out in laughter.

Gojo blinks at you, once, twice, stunned before he’s grinning once more.

“That’s funny?” He asks, watching you amusedly.

Clutching at your stomach, you shake your head; “sorry,” you gasp. “I just never expected the King’s son to be so… un-princely?”

Chuckling, Gojo’s eyes trail your figure as you continue to laugh; “no?”

“No,” you snort, calming yourself down. Then, a second later, you glance at him; “so you ran away?”

“For now,” he agrees. “And you?”

You blink; “what about me?”

“What are you doing here?”

Your smile fades. “Well… you heard.”

“So, you really do talk to trees?”

You pause, bewildered. “You believe me?”

“Why would you lie?”

And it’s the first time you’ve heard someone say that to you… because, yes, why would you lie? Why would you make all this up?

And yet he’s the first one who believes you.

“I’ve never seen someone like you before you, you know,” he shuffles closer and your breath halts, eyeing him as he leans in. “I thought you all died out.”

Subconsciously, your fingers move to touch the tip of your pointy ears that’s hidden by your hair. “We did,” you whisper, “it’s just me.”

Resting his head on his crossed arms, Gojo fidgets in the spot. “That’s unfortunate.”

You hum, not sure how else to respond. It was unfortunate and sad, but no one else had ever seemed to think so. At least not anyone in your village. Scorned and judged because of your smaller stature and your pointy ears… you were a freak amongst humans in your village and they constantly liked to remind you of the fact.

“You think the trees talk to you because you’re different?”

Wide eyed, you turn to Gojo. “What?”

“I don’t hear them,” he frowns, and he strains his ear, cupping it for emphasis as if that’ll help. “And I’m royalty. They should talk to me… but they don’t. I bet it’s because you’re an elf. Makes you extra special then.”

Lips parting, you glance around, taking in the trees, hearing the whispers that have softened, before turning back to his blue eyes. “More special than the prince?”

He smirks; “I guess,” he obliges, chuckling. “Just this once.”

You smile. A real, genuine smile.

“You shouldn’t hide them, either.”

“Hm?”

“Your ears,” he explains, reaching forward. You barely have time to react before he’s brushing back your hair, the tips of his fingers brushing against the skin of your ears as he tucks the hair behind, revealing your insecurity to his eyes. He doesn’t look away, and panicked, you watch him, overwhelmed by how close he suddenly is, breath stuck in the back of your throat.

But he doesn’t look disgusted or freaked out.

He looks… amazed.

“You shouldn’t hide them,” his gaze shifts back to yours, grinning again but this time it’s softer, more demure. “They’re what make you you.”

“They make me look strange. Different,” you mumble to yourself, lowering your gaze as you attempt to pull your hair back out from behind your ear.

Gojo grabs your wrist, small in his own grasp, halting your movements.

You turn to him with parted lips.

“No,” he whispers and it’s the softest he’s sounded, but yet, it’s still so confident. Like he doesn’t doubt a single word he says. “No, they make you special.”

You stare back at him, stunned. But you don’t pull away and you don’t move. You like it, having him this close. This boy who you've just met. This boy who is the King’s son. The prince. Next in line for the throne.

This boy who’s made you feel more normal than you ever have your entire life.

But then he’s pulling away, despite the disappointment that burns through you, standing up straight as you crane your head up to look at him. He’s grinning, ear to ear again, as he takes small steps back.

“I should go,” he explains, laughing. “My father is probably throwing a fit. But, come back tomorrow okay?”

You raise a brow, tilting your head in wonder.

He just laughs.

“I plan to run away again.” 

Is all he says and then he’s turning, offering you a short wave before disappearing through the thick of the trees, leaving you to yourself and the whispers.

You stare at the place he left, undeniably grinning from ear to ear yourself now.

“Yes,” you nod to the whispers. “I think I like him too.”

[sandwitchstories]

Not-So Malevolent Shrine

Welcome back to more adventures in Mouse's Mini-verse! I just can't get enough of these two together!

For more adventures with Mouse and Dad!Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )

If you prefer to read this story on AO3 click here !

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Upon hearing Mouse yelling something in the backyard Sukuna heads out there to investigate. As per usual when this father and daughter combo are left unsupervised, hijinks commence.

WC: 1101

CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, I love them together, baby's first attempt at curse techniques

“Ma-leb-pu-tent Shine!!! I said Ma-leb-pu-tent SHIIIINE!!!.... Shine please and Thank you?”

Sukuna headed outside, curious just what his daughter was doing and even more curious about who she was talking to. He found her standing in the yard, doing what looked to be the toddler version of his palm sign for Malevolent Shrine. Ah, so that’s what she was trying to say.

“Mouse. What are you doing?” he asked, startling her and watching her whip around to face him.

“I tryin’ to do shine like Papa does but it no want to come for me. I even said please and thank you,” she told him with a frustrated look on her face.

“It is shrine not shine.” He stopped in front of her, towering over the toddler with his arms crossed. 

“I says that.”

“Why do you have a need of Malevolent Shrine, brat?” he asked, lips pursed as he waited for an explanation.

“That,” she turned and pointed behind her.

Sukuna saw the decent sized watermelon sitting in the grass a short distance away. He glanced down at her and asked why she had not done what should obviously have been her first choice before trying to unleash shrine. “Why didn’t you just ask Uraume or your mother?”

“No! Papa! Uhm… they no know…” she scratched her little pink head as she looked up at him.

His daughter may be a thief but at least she did not lie. He smirked down at her, “They told you to wait until after dinner, didn’t they?”

“Yes… but  starving Papa. I no have a tummy mouth but my tummy is empty and hungry, Papa!” She looked up at him with big huge pleading eyes.

Sukuna sighed before kneeling down on one knee. He reached out a hand and gripped her arm, pulling her closer with a gentle but firm tug. He tapped the tip of her little turned up nose when she looked up at him. Time to set her straight. Better do it while she was still young.

He kissed her forehead and turned her around so she was in front of him facing the watermelon. “Since the watermelon is only 1 thing and it has a small circumference-”

“Whats a cir-cub-prince?”

“Circumference. Its how big a circle needs to be. Notice how the watermelon is not very big?” she nodded. “That means it would be better to use a single slashing attack. Now, Do you want slices or chunks?”

“Chunks, please and thank you, Papa!” she said in a tone of victory, cheering her little hands up.

“Alright. Then this is what you want to use. Dismantle!” he moved his hand and the watermelon fell apart into perfect cubes.

“Thank you, Papa!!” Mouse bolted from his arms towards the juicy pile of green and pink contraband. She jumped up and down, squealing with delight before leaning down to grab a piece in either hand and come running towards him. She held up a piece to him. “You have some too, Papa!”

And wouldn’t luck have it that the moment he sunk his teeth in he heard your voice from behind. He didn’t have to look to know your hands were on your hips and your face was pinched in frustration. “What do you two think you are doing? You’re going to ruin your appetites!”

“Uh-oh, Papa!” Mouse said in a loud whisper to him. “She got her stink face on. We in big trouble.”

If you had heard her words or seen his face when she said it, he knew they would both be did. Even if not a single word she spoke was a lie. It was the perfect description for it. “Go get a piece for Mama. I’ll try to smooth it over.”

“Okay, Papa!” she nodded and took off running while he stood to face you. “I came outside to find her trying to use Malevolent Shrine to cut the watermelon she admittedly stole. But don’t worry precious one, I have corrected the error of her ways.”

“Here, mama!” Mouse said as she came running back, holding up a piece for you and eating a fresh new piece in her other hand.

“Oh you did?” You asked him, taking the watermelon from Mouse. You looked down at her and brushed bach hair from her eyes with your fingers. “So Papa already talked to you about how stealing is bad?”

“Nope! Papa taught me that to make little chunks you need to use dibanedele not Ma-leb-pu-tent shine. Because of the cir-cub-prince of a watermelon,” she explained as she held onto your robes with her sticky free hand.

You glared at Sukuna who just shrugged his shoulders. “I told you I corrected her on the error of her ways.”

“Papa is the best Papa!” Mouse laughed happily, blissfully unaware that you were conjuring the image of squashing her father’s head over and over and over again in your mind. She ran off to get more melon. 

“That’s your version of correcting the error of her ways?” you grumbled as he smirked. You shook your head, a small smile tugging at one corner of your lips. “I should have known before I even asked.”

“Mama, Papa! Come have more with me, please and thank you!” Mouse called, gesturing with her hands for you to join her.

You once again found yourself adopting the ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ mentality with a sigh. You grabbed one of his hands and gave it a tug,  “Come on, we better go help her. There’s too much evidence there for her to eat all of it by herself and Uraume will be looking for that watermelon soon.”

“You want to teach her to eat the evidence of her crimes but I got the stink face merely for correcting which technique she needed for that situation?” he arched an eyebrow at you. 

Your eyes narrowed on his face. “Excuse me? Stink face?”

“Don’t be mad, precious one, it describes it accurately.”

You laughed and let him pull you in for a kiss. You cupped his face with your hands, letting him kiss you softly several times before you pulled back. “I supposed my having a stink face pairs well with your being a stinky head.”

“Ouch,” he said, screwing up his face and letting you go.

“Ouch in deed, ouch indeed. Now come, my beloved, we must go assist our little delinquent in covering her tracks.” It was a  life full of craziness that you led, but there was nowhere else you would rather be and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sweetbunpura]

After rushing out of Nimbus, Rollo and the Shroud brother was approached by Malleus

Malleus: Where is child of man

Ortho: She was there she is currently in……

Round 8! The finale!

Start - Daydreamers (Ch. 2) - Junglehearts (Ch.3) - Aqualetta (Ch. 4) - Potential (Ch.5) - Nevemela (Ch.6) - Nimbus (Ch.7)

Verasavi

"Verasavi." Rollo finished for Ortho. "I told her to stay there as we were on our way."

"Verasavi...." Malleus kept his face straight. "The Prince..."

"She's with Phara?" Lilia added in.

Idia nodded. "Yeah, and I think the guy is still old fashion, so he might not let her go with us 'Villains.'"

"Flamme, we're going to retrieve her immediately."

"You do not have to tell me twice."

Rollo and Malleus moved towards the final portal with a rose etched into the emblem before Lilia could try and reign them both back in.

"Oh crumpets. Silver, Sebek, come on."

"What vile person must this 'Phara' be to kidnap the human?" Sebek ask as they joined the others through the portals.

Silver answered. "I've only met him once, during the summit between RSA and NRC dorm and vice leaders. He and Malleus.... did not get along."

"He didn't get along with Waka-sama!?"

"No. Phara is a prince of a small city a little bit north of Briar Valley." Lilia explained. "He was raised to be very old fashion and on the tales of the hero bests the beast and saves the woman."

"He sees him as a beast!?"

"Yes."

They arrived on the other side of the portal and were greeted by the sounds of a gentle silence of the forest and the calmness of the cottage village in front of them. Malleus and Rollo were already a few feet ahead, as they rushed to join them, someone suddenly stepped in front of the pair.

"Draconia."

"Little Prince."

Phara stood in front of them, brown eyes narrowed at Malleus as his hand rested on the sword at his hip. If it wasn't for his eye color, Rollo might've mistaken Phara for being Silver.

"I assume you and your vile party are here for the princess."

"Call us vile all you want, but we're not the ones who kidnapped her." Malleus glared at Phara. "If I do recall, it was your classmates that did that."

"Count Neige and Sir Che'nya have already had their talk." Phara crossed his arms. "But I will fight you if you've come for her hand."

"I did not come here for a fight, only to retrieve Child of Man." Malleus raised his hand as a green fire appeared in the center of it. "But if you wish to start a battle, so be it."

"Malleus."

"Phara!"

Lilia and an a Ox Beastman stood between the pair before they could start. Rollo found his eyes focused on the beastman as he took in his tall stature and dark skin tone. His horns were visible even against the long and messy locks of his brown hair.

"Ram, kindly move out of the way."

"Lilia, please move to the side."

Lilia sighed. "You know this is the last thing she would want."

Ram easily towered over Phara. "If it weren't for the warning messages I've received from the others, I wouldn't have found out about what was happening."

Phara huffed. "Warning? What could they possibly warn you about?"

"Do you not see the fight you're about to start?"

"I'm not letting her go back with these villains!"

"Phara, what does our dorm represent?"

"....Is this what Riley calls a rhetorical question?"

"Answer."

"True Love."

Ram bent down. "And what are you keeping her from?"

"....She's dating someone?" Phara looks at Malleus. "Him?"

The beastman stepped aside and gestured to Rollo. "Him."

The moment Phara's eyes moved to look at him, Rollo felt the need to honestly knock the man aside and start searching for Yuu without his help.

"...Him?" He squinted at Rollo before straitening up. "Can't be. Why would she be dating someone so.... skinny looking? Hardly a Knight nor a Prince and not even worth the title of a Lord."

Silver and Sebek coughed as Rollo felt his face begin to heat up.

"This is coming from someone so lacking in common sense, he assume we were nothing more than a gaggle of ne'er-do-wells." He snapped. "So lost in your fantasy of saving the helpless damsel that you failed to realize that she is the further from being as such. I've come to return her home from the kidnappers I see before me. Now step aside, this is my last warning."

"....I had assumed you weren't like these miscreants, but you wear their colors as you own."

"Seven Dammit, Phara!" Ram sighed in exaggeration

Rollo felt his magic a lit, but as quickly as it ramped up, it diffused as he spotted someone running towards them. He knew who it was immediately as he opened his arms and accepted Yuu's tackling hug. Rollo steadied the pair of them as he held her tightly.

"Love."

"I missed you, Rolls."

Phara watched them with wide eyes as Ram's shoulders dropped in relief.

"I...do not understand-"

"Phara."

Phara froze as Malleus and Lilia moved aside to allow Tundra to walk between them with crossed arms. Rollo watched with a sense of smugness as the blond stared down the dorm leader.

"H-hello, my everlasting love...."

"Why did Colt come and get me? Have you been causing problems again?"

"N-no-"

"Phara."

"A .... little?"

Tundra sighed as Colt joined Ram's side, the beastman whispered something to the brunet as his tail wrapped around his hip. The blond turned to face Malleus and the others.

"Please forgive him. He takes it very seriously, which is what I love about him, but it also causes problems." Tundra bowed. "I heard the others were doing the same, I may not speak for the others, but I know a lot of us hope you forgive us."

Malleus shook his head. "We're not the ones who you should be apologizing to, Goldsworth." The fae gestured to a still hugging Yuu and Rollo. "They're the ones you inconvenienced the most."

Tundra grabbed Phara's arm and directed the pair of them to the couple.

"I'm sorry, to both of you." Tundra locked his boyfriend into a headlock and forced him to bow with him.

"I-I apologize as well."

Before Rollo could speak, Yuu turned to look at them and everyone could feel the temperature lower a few degrees.

"You pull this shit again and no one is going to fix what I do to you. If Ram wasn't telling me about you and Tundra, I would've beaten your ass black and blue, Phara." Yuu's voice was cold and unforgiving. "You're very lucky you got your vice to vouch for you. Got it?"

"U-Understood."

"Good." She turned back towards Rollo. "Now take me home. If I stay here any longer, someone is getting punched in the face."

"Glad to have you back, Child of Man." Malleus smiled as they went towards the portal.

Remembering what Phara had said earlier, Rollo picked Yuu up effortlessly in a bridal carry and followed the others. Yuu blinked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What's this for~?"

"I missed you."

"I know you did, but there's something more to this action."

".....He called me skinny."

"Imma beat his ass."

[writersdrug]

Please continue to write literally anything for konig, I’m having the worst work week of my life and your fics always sustain me! I just finished chapter 13 and I almost cried because I realised I’d have to wait for more to come out 😔 this isn’t really a request or question just encouragement!!!

I don't have much queued up for König besides I Don't Need You, but here are some headcannons I have!! Also I'm sorry your work week was bad, let König cheer you up

NSFW at the end

We all know he would love to go on rants bout knives, guns, history, etc. But I also imagine that if you tried to chime in with your own, semi-relatable topic he'd glare at you and say "I wasn't finished," before continuing on his schpeel. He's not trying to be mean, he just has to tell you about Richard the third and how he definitely killed the two princes in the tower.

If you ask if the two of you can get a cat, he comes home the next day with one - but he didn't go to the pet store, or a shelter. He went to the restaraunt you always drag him to and waited by the dumpster with a can of tuna. Caught the scruffy thing and brought it to you, tucked under an arm with a big smile on his face.

He had to help you bathe the spitting kitten, poor baby was covered in fleas.

This man unironically adores the bucket of chicken you can get from KFC. Just a pail of chicken all for himself.

If you're out shopping or really anywhere where you take the lead, people are always asking if you're ok - "That man looks like he's following you," they whisper, "do you need me to get someone to walk you out?"

It's just König, standing behind you in a balaclava, hands in his pockets and dark clothing. Just 👁👁

Goes for an hour-long run at 4 am every morning, comes home to shower, then crawls back in bed with you to sleep until you have to go to work.

His phone screen is probably gross. Lock screen is you, doing your makeup and wearing a stunning dress for date night, unaware of König lurking in the doorway for a photo; background is the poster for Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

This man is known as a terror among door salesmen. They're just trying to get him to buy their services for cleaning gutters and he's dragging them to the backyard to show them how he cleans it himself, talking to them for an hour about how you don't need to hire someone to do "simple work"

He plays D&D with other veterans every Thursday night - you both usually host at your house, and he gives you an appreciative smile/pat when you come through with more drinks.

(Based on a tiktok) he once came in through the back door, standing in the dining room awkwardly as he watched you sort through the mail. He stared at you with a blank expression, until you finally looked back at him. "What's wrong, baby?"

He then slapped a lizard on the table, making you scream and throw a pile of mail at the thing as it scurried across the wood. He laughed for a good thirty minutes.

When he's sick, he tries to get away with downing a shot of Everclear and moving on with his day. "Alcohol kills bacteria, no?" (You'll have none of that nonsense, and he's not complaining when you dote on him and hand-feed him soup.)

If you're in the shower, he's in the shower. Doesn't matter if he had one an hour ago.

If you have a child, he loves to gaslight them (especially in their elementary years). Agrees to play Princess with them, but then proceeds to say that he's the Princess.

"I'm always the Princess!"

"Nein, you said I could be this time!"

"No I didn't!"

"Well I'm the Princess, so I make the rules."

Believes eating your pussy will make you feel better in any situation (sometimes it does). Bad day at work? He's kneeling in front of you and telling you to flip your skirt up. Cramps? Orgasms are the best remedy, schatz. Your tomatoes aren't growing well this year? Ah, shucks. Let him eat you out.

Anyways this is bleh but hope this helps!!

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spiders Into The Bat...Verse?

{Accidentally getting thrown into another portal, you have to figure out your way back! Yet Au's are tricky things...}

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

Bruce Wayne/Batman:

"Phew~... Well, that should be all of them." You grin, smiling at the Dark-Knight... Bat-Knight? Either or, you happily bump into his armor as you talk with Captain Gordon. The Knight looming beside you easily.

When you first arrived, you crashed into Wayne Manor's extravgent garden party. Crashing into tea sets and tables, while trying to fight off the pest that threw you there!

While simultaneouly keeping terrorfied citizens and guests away.

Finally throwing the creature back into the portal, you cheered. About to follow suit, yet as soon as your web was tossed in. It snapped as portal closed.

Groaning softly, your spidey senses alerted you to the knew presence in the room. Recalling being knocked out, you noted your suit is still on and your on a really fluffy bed.

You don't deem the butler as a threat, opting to instead go over and ask questions as he leads you down below the grandiose home.

The Bat-Knight is Prince Bruce Wayne, heir to the late King Thomas and Queen Martha. Yet is scene in the eyes of the royal council and public as...

Well, not a suitable candiate to rule quite yet.

Since most of his time was spent jesting with royals and nobility at soirees. Along with a few scandals of chasity here or there...

"Hmmm... I'll call you "Wayne" for short. You reply bluntly.

"...Do what you like then." He said distractedly, eyeing the paperwork on his desk.

Having the permission, you get up from your seat. Holding out your arms expectedly.

His saphire eyes narrow at you, "what are you doing."

"I wanna' hug. That's what I would like!" You reply.

With a bit of a clash, you found somwhat normalcy with him and his estate.

He too, had gotten used to your visits to his study. Never fully sure on how to debute you into high-society so he could keep an eye on you when out of the estate.

Quickly giving Bruce a kiss on the cheek in graditude, you step away, fixing the attire he made you wear for the gala. Before eagerly pushing him to join you at the table of desserts or savory snacks.

-

Dick Grayson/Nightwing:

Rolling your eyes at the hand outstretched for you to take. You ignore it as you walk beside the "Nightwing" of this AU. Glancing at the horse that neighed for your attention as well, you gave it a small pat.

"You' sure you don't need a ride?" He asked politely. The sun beating down on your backs.

Readying yourself, you shoot out a web to the clock-tower in the middle of the dusty town.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine." You said steadily, pulling yourself up high into the air. Web-slinging carefully on only the higher buildings.

A low whistle leaves his lips at the sight.

Dick is the eldest son of the Batfam, along with being apart of the wealthiest family in town.

The family owning a multitude of lands and ranches across the county and beyond in other cities.

Richard has high education and well respected in the community even without his fathers wealth. Takes care of the ranch in Büldhaven, mostly. But often visits Gotham, each time it's a celebartion of his arrival.

Sweet as a bell, always giving a helping hand.

"You.. You seem indifferent." The young man states curiously. You smile slightly, "Yeah. So.. Thanks for that." Holding up the item gifted to you, you head to the drawers to place it elsewhere. The peice of jewelry too dazzling to be out.

Glazing at your (modern) jacket, he picks it up. Tracing the fabric while your back was turned. Strange as it was, he thought it was quite cute. A bit odd, but it suited you.

As Nightwing, another vigilante of the west, the two of you work suprisingly well-...Enough.. As if you know what he has on his mind on the occasion.

Your fighting styles may-be different, but that hasn't stop you two before.

Poking at the boquet in your hand, you hear the soft steps near the horse stalls come closer.

"Hey." You greet, grogginess in your voice.

"Hello... It.. Seems you have a admirer, other than myself." He spoke playfully, side-eyeing the weeds.

You blink, turning away to hide your smile. Small bits of laughter spilling out of you as he stalks closer, pouting.

"So? Where is he?"

"Far." You shrug, gazing at him with mirth, eyeing the buttercups sadly.

Overall, just an idea I had! Maybe I'll do more in the future with other batfams members?

[Thwnk you for reading, reblogs, comments are apperciated! Fan art as well! See you soon! Yall want a part 2? *wink*]

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 (You’re here), PART 18

In Gaius Tower.

Merlin: (enters)

Gaius: Oh, Merlin, glad you're here.

Merlin: Sorry I was moving all my things to my new chambers. Do you need me to help you with something?

Gaius: (sighs, turning very serious) Merlin, my boy, we must talk.

Merlin: But I didn't do anything this time 🥺.

Gaius: No, it's not about you. Well, yes. But it's not because of something you've done... I think.

Merlin: (very confused) I don't think I follow...

Gaius: You are aware that the prince is... very fond of you, right?

Merlin: Oh yeah, sure.

Gaius: I mean he likes you, Merlin.

Merlin: I know, I like him too.

Gaius: (surprised) Really?! 😲

Merlin: Of course, we are friends. How can we not like each other?

Gaius: No, I don't mean in that way, Merlin.

Merlin: Well, I guess he likes me as his servant too.

Gaius: (explodes) Oh, for Gods' sake! I'm talking about romantic love! Of sexual attraction! That's what I'm talking about!

Merlin: …

Merlin: (burst out laughing) Ha! 🤣 Good one, Gaius.

Gaius: I'm not joking.

Merlin: (sarcastic) Yeah, sure.

Gaius: Merlin, Arthur has been obsessed with you ever since you got here.

Merlin: What on earth gave you that idea?

Gaius: He almost lost his mind when you were stabbed!

Merlin: So? He cares about his subjects. That's not strange.

Gaius: He had a man imprisoned for you.

Merlin: Lancelot, yes, and only because he wanted to teach me a lesson for risking my life 'unnecessarily' again. Very childish of him if you ask me.

Gaius: And when you invited a man to sleep in your room-

Merlin: Why does everyone say that like it's a bad thing?

Gaius: -He had you immediately move into the chambers next to his.

Merlin: He still doesn't trust Lancelot and he wanted me to be more comfortable, that's all.

Gaius: He gave you a flower! Tell me, how can that NOT be romantic?

Merlin: Oh, I suppose that could be misinterpreted. Even Lancelot interpreted it that way.

Gaius: Because it can only be interpreted one way!

Merlin: But I swear it has an explanation.

Gaius: I'm dying to hear it.

Merlin: You see, do you remember when Arthur came here to leave me a message for you when the plague happened?

Gaius: The message he never left you in the end because you were too busy talking about your favorite flower? Yes, I remember.

Merlin: I told him that my favorite flowers were forget-me-nots because it's not easy to find purple flowers and purple is my favorite color.

Gaius: A color that curiously only royalty can afford because it's very expensive to make, yes.

Merlin: Exactly! That's why I like forget-me-nots. They are easy to find in nature and they are free. And I told Arthur that: "There aren't many flowers that are purple."

Gaius: And in response he got you a purple lily.

Merlin: Yeah, you see?

Gaius: ...

Gaius: Are you supposed to be refuting me? Because it seems like you're agreeing with me.

Merlin: Gaius, don't you see? The idiot gave me the purple lily just to prove a point.

Gaius: Which is...?

Merlin: That there are other purple flowers besides forget-me-nots. He even wrote me a note telling me just that. That I simply didn't know how to search well.

Gaius: Merlin, do you know what the purple lily means in the language of flowers?

Merlin: "Passionate love." Why?

Gaius: 😒

Merlin: It's a coincidence, nothing more.

Gaius: Okay, let's talk about facts instead. Naturally purple lilies are very rare and difficult to find, to the point that even if someone from royalty wants some, it is more cost-effective for them to paint the lilies purple and, as you well know, purple dye is very expensive.

Merlin: (surprised) Really? I didn't know you could paint flowers. So my lily is painted?

Gaius: No, that's the thing. The prince, who we know has no shortage of money, despite being easily able to have a lily painted purple, decided to find you a naturally purple one and give it to you as a gift.

Merlin: (very impressed) Wow…

Gaius: Do you see it now?

Merlin: Yes… It's incredible that he would go so far just to prove a point.

Gaius: (drops his things) I give up. (leaves)

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Arthur: (In his desk, writing in a parchment sheet, thinking) If Lancelot is here, the griffin will attack soon. (writes that down) What's next? The sidhes, I think. Then the black knight and the questing beast-No, the unicorn was before the questing beast. (Adds note next to 'Unicorn') Important: Don't kill the unicorn.... When was the battle of Ealdor? Was it before or after the unicorn? (thinks hard but can't remember) Well it happened around then. Hmmm... (adds note next to 'Black knight') Don't drink Gaius' drug.

Gaius: (knocks the door from outside)

Arthur: (hides the parchment) Come in.

Gaius: (enters and bows) Your highness.

Arthur: Oh, Gaius. What brings you here?

Gaius: I would like to talk to you... about Merlin.

Arthur: (stands up abruptly, worried) What happened? Is he hurt?

Gaius: No! It's nothing like that, sire.

Arthur: (sighs relieved) So? What is it?

Gaius: First, I want your highness to know that I really appreciate that you care for my ward so dearly. You didn't only give him the position of your personal manservant, you protected him and offer him your friendship even when there was no need and I will always be grateful for that.

Arthur: You don't have to thank me for that, Gaius. As you said, Merlin is very dear to me. I won't let anything happen to him. (thinking) What did that dollophead do this time?

Gaius: (uncomfortable) Right... however, despite my eternal gratitude, I must ask you... more discretion from your part, sire.

Arthur: (surprised and confused) Me?

Gaius: Some actions you have made regarding Merlin have caused... some worrying rumors to be made, sire.

Arthur: Like what?

Gaius: There are a lot, sire. But the most common one, I think, is that you took Merlin as your lover because Merlin is , pardon my words, a seductive greedy whore, sire.

Arthur: (scandalised, shouts) WHAT?!

Gaius: I know, very bold of them to accuse the prince of Camelot of sleeping with-

Arthur: They are calling Merlin a whore?!😡

Gaius: Uhm, yes, a greedy whore, but what I'm trying to get at is-

Arthur: This can't be. I'm going to fix it. Thank you, Gaius. (leaves)

Gaius: Wait! What are you going to do? 😨(goes after him, frantic) Sire? Sire!

Time skip. Arthur reunited with all the servants at his service (which means some servants like Gwen are not there) in the hallway.

Arthur: (with a branding iron in hand, threatening) This is used to mark the cattle but also to mark the gossipers. I do not tolerate gossipers, especially the slandares.

Servants: (scared as fuck, trembling in place)😨😱

Arthur: Rumors are forbidden in this castle. Even more if they involve royalty and those closest to them. I won't ask who did it. I don't care. I'm just warning you that if I hear anything remotely similar again (points the branding iron to them) all of you will pay the consequences. So if you don't want to be marked as cattle (walks and points the servants one by one) you better start controlling yours and everyone's tongues. Do I make myself clear?

Servant 1: (pales when he's pointed at and faints)

Arthur: (looks down as he falls, expressionless) You are fired. Let him know that when he wakes.

Other servants: (terrafied, with a high pitched voice) Yes, sire!🥺

Arthur: (leaves)

Gaius: (in a corner, just as terrafied) What the fu-😨

Time skip. Arthur and Merlin in Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (putting Arthur his shirt on) Arthur, is there an important event today? Is someone important coming?

Arthur: No, why?

Merlin: Well, everyone seems in such a hurry lately. Every time I run into another servant they run away.

Arthur: Really?

Merlin: (nods, putting Arthur his jacket on) They always apologise though, before leaving. (thoughtful) It's weird. Maybe I did something to upset them?

Arthur: (dismissively) Sometimes there's just too much work in the castle. Don't overthink it.

Gaius: (enters suddenly, almost a wild expression in his face)

Merlin: (surprised) Gaius!

Arthur: (concerned) Gaius, is something wrong? You never enter without knocking.

Gaius: (turns to Merlin, very serious) Merlin, I need some errands urgently. (extends his hand with a peace of paper)

Merlin: Oh, in a minute. I need to-

Gaius: Now, Merlin. People's lifes are depending on it.

Arthur: Go, Merlin. I can handle the rest.

Merlin: (nods and takes the paper, very worried at the sudden emergency) I'll be back as soon as I can. (leaves quickly)

Gaius: (closes the door and turns to Arthur, sternly) This has to stop.

Arthur: (confused) What exactly?

Gaius: Your feelings for Merlin!

Arthur: Oh, that.

Gaius: Yes! I know you fancy him. Don't you dare deny it! 😡

Arthur: I'm not denying it.

Gaius: Please, Arthur! Everyone who has eyes can see-Wait you are not denying it? 😲

Arthur: I'm not.

Gaius: Oh... Okay

Arthur: And I don't just fancy him, I'm in love with him.

Gaius: (taken aback) I... didn't expect this much honesty... give me a minute.

Arthur: (nods in understanding and points to a chair) Do you want to take a seat?

Gaius: Yes, thank you. (takes a seat)

Arthur: I can bring you water if you like.

Gaius: No, it's fine. (sighs and looks at Arthur) How?

Arthur: (shrugs) How does everyone fall in love? It just happens.

Gaius: You've just known each other for less than a month.

Arthur: It's true, but I feel like I've known him for a lifetime. (thinking) 10 years to be exact. (says) I can assure you, Gaius, my intentions are nothing but honorable.

Gaius: I know you wouldn't force Merlin into anything he doesn't want to. That's not the problem.

Arthur: Then What is it?

Gaius: Sire-

Arthur: Arthur. Call me Arthur.

Gaius: The problem, Arthur, is that you are being too intense with your love. You even threatened those poor servants!

Arthur: They were insulting Merlin! 😠

Gaius: That's what I'm talking about! If you are not doing extensive searches just to bring him a flower, you are challenging anyone who has done the slightest offense to him. You were always very correct and careful with your image. Why can't you keep up appearances when it comes to Merlin too?

Arthur: Because I don't want to hide and repress what I feel! (thinks) Not anymore. (Says) And I'm not going to let anyone hurt him. (Thinks) Not again. I won't leave him alone again. I won't fail him again.

Gaius: I know you have the best intentions, but whether you like it or not, you are also harming Merlin with your actions. Your father doesn't have the best image of him at the moment.

Arthur: (worried) And Merlin? Does it bother him that-

Gaius: No, surprisingly, he isn't aware of your feelings yet. I even tried to tell him and he just thought I was joking. I don't know if he's very innocent or just too dense.

Arthur: (laughs, but then blushes a little and asks with a shy smile) But did he like the flower?

Gaius: Oh, for Gods' sake! Yes, he loved that flower and he loves everything you do for him. He may not be aware of your affections, but he's not exactly rejecting them. (Sighs) And that's what worries me the most.

Arthur: What?

Gaius: You are the prince and he is a servant and also a man.

Arthur: I don't care about that.

Gaius: But your father does and the entire court too. At some point you are going to have to marry a noble woman who can give you heirs. No matter how sincere your love for Merlin is, that is something you will not be able to change. You're going to break his heart even if you don't want to.

Arthur: I won't-

Gaius: Don't make me promises. You don't need my approval and whether I agree with this or not doesn't really matter. I'm only going to ask you two things. One, modesty. I think you can manage to woo and protect Merlin without being so brazen.

Arthur: Alright.

Gaius: Two, make things clear to Merlin before you start anything, because he won't believe you're in love with him until he hears it from your own mouth.

Arthur: I do plan to tell him when the time is right, Gaius. Don't worry.

Gaius: And Arthur... (stands up, suddenly threatening) Merlin is not just my ward, he's my boy. You may be The prince, but if you dare to hurt him-

Arthur: (firmly) I won't. I rather die before harming him in any way.

Gaius: (thinking) Yes, you say that now, but just because you don't know. (Sighs and says) Good. Now, if you excuse me, I must wait for Merlin in my chambers to prepare medicine for the imaginary patients I invented. (bows) Your Highness (leaves)

...

Scene where arthur is listing the 'events that are about to unfold' on a piece a patchment ☑︎

Credits to my best friend Rosangela, who helped me with some dialogues and situations, no only in this part, but several ones. Love you so much! ❤️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Kalim, Vil: Pyrite, Prince, and Pauper

Wah 😭 I really love the initial art!! The water shimmering and making a rainbow… ✨ (Not used to seeing Kalim without his headscarf though, feels weird to see him bare!)

A Tale as Old as Time.

If Kalim had to pick one word to describe what he was looking at, it would be celebration.

It was both humble and extravagant at once—the city streets, the venue, livened up with flags, confetti, and fanfare. A large elephant fitted with a vest and hat towered over the gathered townsfolk. Seated upon him was a young man in a turban and glaringly white robes, an arm extended to the sky.

A grand party for the public, and all were invited. Children and adults, animals and humans, nobles and street rats.

Kalim broke out into a wide smile. “Wow, it looks like everyone’s having so much fun!”

“You never seem to tire from the idea,” Vil commented dryly.

The supermodel patiently tapped a manicured nail against his arm. “I suppose a host showing his best face to the public is far from undesirable. I’ve certainly been to my fair share of events where the host was less than that.”

“Gahahah! You’re famous, so it makes sense you’d be in high demand at parties. Jamil told me about that red carpet you walked a little while ago. I managed to catch some of it on TV!”

Kalim’s garnet eyes glinted with excitement.

“You were all sparkly and the crowd was so happy to see you! You’re like the prince in this painting, hyping everyone up.”

“My, thank you for your support.” Vil’s lip curled. “I’m sure you’re in high demand as well… albeit for different reasons than I. Many would love to have the attention of the Asim heir on them.”

The third year chuckled, a hand tucked under his chin. “It’s only natural for people to be attracted to that which shines.”

“Shines, huh…”

Kalim folded his arms, inclining his head to one side. His mouth pinched slightly, disrupting the arc of his smile.

“… Hey, Vil. Can I ask you something?”

“You need not request for my permission.” Vil waved a hand. “Continue.”

“Do you really think I shine? Like, on stage.” A pause, then he quickly added, “And you can be honest with me. Please… be honest with me.”

“What’s this now?” Vil planted his hands on his hips. “Certainly, you’re not ordinary by any means, but I’d hesitate to call you a refined gem. A one month boot camp isn’t enough to polish your singing and dancing skills to that of a pro—but you’re not talking about VDC, are you?”

“Ahahah… Looks like you caught me.” Kalim let his arms fall to his sides.

“You can’t fool this actor’s eyes,” Vil said simply. “So? What is it that you’re actually after? It’s not like you to talk in circles.”

“It’s nothing. I… A lot’s been on my mind since winter break. Too many things. When I think about it for too long, I start to wonder if I’m really what people say I am.”

You’re so talented, Kalim-sama.

So handsome.

So smart.

So kind.

The very best.

“Sometimes...” He tugged at his collar, watching how it sparkled and shifted as he maneuvered the fabric. “it feels like I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go. Or like my clothes don’t fit me right.”

The golden boy, the prince to make way for, the sun all looked to. They were the roles he wore, but suddenly they felt hollow.

Lies set adrift on an errant wind.

Dust of pyrite, fool’s gold.

Am I pretending to be something I’m not?

“… I’m not making a lot of sense, am I?” Kalim laughed softly, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have made today feel sad.”

“On the contrary,” Vil tutted, “I understand all too well. All the makeup in the world, the nicest clothes, and the most skilled stylists cannot make a pauper become a prince. A pauper is a pauper, no matter how they present.

“However… a perfect little prince is not all that has value. I’ve played enough parts and been in enough productions to know. There are swash-buckling pirates, daring space heroes, dastardly villains, and, yes, even clever, honest street rats who find themselves in the public eye. Perhaps they did not start off as diamonds, but in the end they proved themselves to be diamonds in the rough.”

Vil lifted his chin—indignant.

“Regardless of how others perceive you or what ensemble you wear, you remain yourself. So long as you hold true to your own moral compass and principles, you shall always be someone who shi… Ough!!”

He could scarcely finish his sentence before he was tackled. Kalim was embracing him tightly, only pulling back when Vil muttered that he was creasing both of their suits.

“Thanks, Vil!! Talking with you made me feel so much better! You’re really not as bad as they say you are.”

Vil frowned. “I’m aware that I have my detractors, but you must learn to be more tactful with your choice of words.”

“Tactful, right! Got it! I can do that.”

Kalim released him and spun around, splaying his arms out. He pretended to present the painting with a flourish, looking back at Vil.

“Someday, maybe I’ll be as sparkly as he is here!”

So I can meet everyone’s expectations. Talented, handsome, smart, kind, better.

But no matter how I might change, I’m still me.

Still Kalim Al-Asim.

And that was something worth celebrating.

[xaytheloser]

The Prince in a Gilded Cage

characters: Dark Cacao Cookie, Dark Choco Cookie, Mystic Flour Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie Tw: manipulation, warping one's morality, isolation, kidnapping, my shit ass writing (while Mystic Flour Cookie's gender is unknown, I will be using she/her for them for this fic)

"leave him be, in due time, he shall see that this is for the best." "..." "oh, come now, Dark Cacao Cookie... you do not wish to fail him like you did before... do you?" "...no. I do not." "that is what I thought, in order for your kingdom to prosper, some extremes are necessary to be made... your son may not understand now, but he will, in due time..." .... Dark Cacao had been having more frequent conversations with the Light of Resolution, at least.. that has what the ancient beast Mystic Flour Cookie had been disguising herself as.. the king had been placed under some form of.. possession, his morality and mind warping into a more twisted version of his former self.. "your kingdom is at risk, Dark Cacao Cookie.. listen to me... I shall guide you.." the king began pushing his workers to the brink of exhaustion, applying even more heavy layers of chocolate to the ever growing wall, not only did the king now demand that the wall strengthen in thickness, he demanded it's height to increase. now the wall nearly covered the entire citadel, casting it into a large looming shadow. perimeter checks around the citadel's borders become the regular, with soldiers being forced to track the harsh blizzard ridden territory for the slightest threat. the king also had a new objective, to find his son. the "Light of Resolution" stated the reason behind this as for him to... "make amends" with his lost son, and while Dark Cacao had thought about sending soldiers out for his son, he was hesitant until the Light of Resolution... persuaded him.. "you wish to make things right between the two of you?" "...yes, desperately so..." "hmph... then do it." .... "...father..?" the harsh wind howled through the air, Dark Cacao and his troops had trashed Dark Choco Cookie's camp site, his tent in shambles and belongings scatters throughout the site. the father and son stood and stared at each other, all while Mystic Flour did her work in warping the king's thoughts once more.. "you wish to make things right, correct? then make it right." "yes.. soldiers, restrain my son." "..what..?" Dark Cacao watched as his soldiers tackled his son to the ground, pinning him down without any second thought, all while the "Light of Resolution" whispered into his ear, "soon, you will have the happy family that you desire.." .... sweets, rainbow jellies, books, warm clothes, all the things that Dark Choco could desire, nothing could get the young prince out of his silent brooding state. his room was locked heavily, chains and padlocks covering his door, as to prevent his escape, his father even made sure to lock him up in the highest tower, without a window.. his father would visit him, bring him meals, and trying to get back even a semblance of normality between him and his son.. but Dark Choco talked about nothing than about his release. "father, I-" "it is out of the question, Dark Choco Cookie, you shall not be let out until it is safe for you.." "I am not a child, father, I do not need your protection, it was you who taught me to protect myself, now, you want me to stay here, only to follow your orders like some child..?" "...." his father never replied to his questions, shutting them down whenever he speak up, leaving his heavily guarded room, and locking him all by himself again. .... the cold winter wind howled outside, Dark Choco Cookie could not sleep, he did not wish to sleep.. he had to find out what was wrong with his father, he knew that.. something was wrong... *CLANK!* Dark Choco heard the locks to his room unlock, with a heavy creek of the door opening.. "...Caramel Arrow... Cookie..?" "my prince.. come with me.. I know that the king is not well.. I aim to help aid him.... will you assist me?" "..." ....

[thornedrose44]

20 for supercorp please?

Prompt: “Are you already dating someone new?”

“Supergirl!” The reporter yelled, pulling the hero’s attention away from greeting the crowd after stopping a getaway car. “Are you already dating someone new?”

Kara frowned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, “Am I… what?”

And that was all the opening the reporter needed, Kara had engaged and was locked in.

“You were seen out on the town with Diana Prince only last week, the two of you were engaged in a close conversation.”

“That… I… we… uh…” Kara stammered, her blush the irrefutable proof the reporter needed.

“And then last night you were seen with James Olsen on a date clearly set up by Superman.”

“What? Superman had nothing to do with it. When I dated James I did it all by myself. But we’re not-“

“Dated? You’ve had a previous relationship? Exes rekindling the romance? Diana Prince merely used to rouse jealousy in your once lover? Who knew Supergirl was such a heartbreaker?”

“That was a lot of questions and none of them point to the truth.” Kara huffed.

“So James was just another in a long line, hmm?”

“I didn’t say that-“

“Who will Supergirl date next? Her identity and libido now revealed and free to conquer the city,” The reporter turned to fully face the camera, completely ignoring Kara’s outrage in the background as he pointed down the lens, “maybe it could be you?”

xxx

“Watch out, everyone! Supergirl’s raging libido is on the loose!” Nia called out as Kara landed on the Tower’s balcony looking awfully put out - bottom lip stuck out petulantly.

“Eww, please don’t talk about my sister’s libido.” Alex grimaced, glancing up from the monitor she was studying with Kelly. Esme was spending the day with J’onn, giving the parents a chance to catch up on some odd tasks at the Tower before going on a date. Lena and Brainy were fiddling with some tech components on a workbench in the corner of the room.

“Sorry, Alex but the whole city is talking about it, who knows who will be next?” Nia singsonged, looking far too pleased with herself.

“I shouldn’t have engaged…” Kara groaned, banging her head lightly against a wall.

“Yup!” Nia agreed, “But you did! Cat Grant is furious!”

“Ugh…” Kara slouched, sinking to the floor.

“Nia, I think she’s suffered enough.” Lena said, approaching quietly.

Nia pouted, patting Kara’s shoulder amicably before skipping away, her and Brainy departing together to go on their regular lunch date.

“How are you holding up, heartbreaker?” Lena teased, holding out a hand to help Kara up.

“Not you too.” Kara whined, accepting the hand offered her merely to link their hands together - palms brushing and fingers interlocking - using her own abilities to hover back onto her feet. “You know this is all your fault, right?”

Lena quirked an eyebrow, “How do you figure that?”

“No smoke without fire.” Kara replied confidently, swinging their joined hands back and forth. “I have an aura.”

Lena’s gaze narrowed as she repeated slowly, “An aura?”

“Yep.” Kara popped the word, smile growing into a grin. “A happily dating aura.”

Lena smirked, “Are you sure it’s not a recently fu-“

“NOPE! Nuh uh!” Alex shouted, fingers swiftly plugging ears. “Not listening! Kelly let’s go!”

Kelly shook her head in fond amusement of her wife, “Bye guys!”

Alex bolted for the exit, Kelly following more sedately behind.

“You did that on purpose.” Kara accused.

Lena placed a hand over her chest in mock offence. “Not everything can be my fault.” She followed this up with a shrug, “Admittedly I definitely did that on purpose and will gladly take accountability for Supergirl’s raging libido.”

Kara rolled her eyes, tugging Lena closer and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You know there’s no substance to the rumours, right? I only have eyes for you.” Kara reassured, gently checking in. This thing between them was still new, still finding its feet and Kara wanted to keep it safe and sheltered for as long as possible.

“I know, my love.” Lena affirmed, hand reaching out to comb through Kara’s hair. “It’s gossip mongering, I’ve suffered my fair share.”

“I don’t like adding to it.” Kara pouted, leaning into Lena’s tender care.

“You add so much more joy and love to counterbalance it. I knew what I was getting into dating Supergirl.”

“Still…”

“I can handle your raging libido, my love.”

“That’s going to stick isn’t it?”

“Afraid so; Cat has said it is to be your punishment.” Lena explained with a light chuckle. “She trained you to know better than to engage.”

“I know…” Kara grumbled, leaning forward to rest her forehead on Lena’s shoulder.

“I have a suggestion of how to get back in her good graces…”

“Oh?” Kara hummed, turning her head to gently kiss Lena’s neck.

“We offer her the bigger story to share.” Lena offered, voice quiet and shy.

Kara slowly pulled back, brow furrowed, “Bigger story?”

Lena nodded, “Well, I hope a Super and Luthor relationship would be bigger than your libido but who knows?”

Kara blinked, “You want to go public?”

“Only if you want to. And I view it less as going public and more as…” Lena hesitated, “setting the record straight.”

“I didn’t think the dating rumours bothered you?”

“They don’t.” Lena said. “It’s the lack of rumours that bothers me.”

“The lack?”

“I spent so long thinking that there was never going to be more between us, that our relationship was always destined to be platonic - which I was more than happy with but…” Lena looked away, cheeks tinting with embarrassment, “seeing how I am always the best friend in the news… It reminds me of that time. I don’t want to be in that box anymore. I don’t want us to be.”

“Hey, we’re not.” Kara promised, pressing kisses to Lena’s cheeks which only made the light pink flush deepen to sunset red. “You were never in that box.”

“I know that now.” Lena murmured, head tilting to catch Kara’s lips in a sweet kiss.

Kara rocked back, smile dreamy and dazed, “I’ll call Cat.” Kara declared. “Let her know my raging libido has found its next and final target.”

“Final, huh?”

“Final.” Kara said sincerely.

[butterflydm]

WoT trailer thoughts

Okay, I gotta run off to work soon, but I wanted to poke at the trailer some more first.

After consultations with @markantonys, who is better at recognizing people who Change Their Hair And Clothes (how dare they!), I now know that it is Josha in the river scene and Alanna in the orchard scene with Perrin and Not Elayne (and thus Morgase) in the Lion Throne scene.

So, thoughts on the season ahead of us...

Though I want more than one episode with everyone together, if Rand & co are going to the Waste on foot, they might want two 'travel' episodes to let time pass in the other plotlines, so it might be both Rand's group (via land) and Perrin's group (via the Ways) who leave at the end of the first episode. I'm currently leaning this way because it doesn't look like Egwene is in the scene where Galad fights Gawyn (and which is likely to lead into the Mat vs the princes fight) and the only reason I feel like she wouldn't be there is if she is already on the way to the Waste.

Hopefully Rand & co will leave in the middle of ep2 and we get some more time with everyone together! And Egwene & Gawyn could at least meet each other, lol.

The implication from some of the marketing is that Rand is going to try to tempt Lanfear to the Light while she's trying to tempt him to the Shadow. They've really set up "Rand only lives if I die" with Moiraine in the marketing and the trailers, so I also lean towards us getting the Moiraine & Lanfear confrontation at the end of this season. And Rand seeing past!Lanfear in the glass columns could lead him down the path of believing I Can Fix Her, while she is continuing to try to weave her manipulation around him.

So in the first episode, we're going to get Liandrin & co busting out from the White Tower, Egwene's Accepted Test, a bit of the new group all bonding together, and Egwene meeting Amys Bair in TAR. Ihvon is probably dying in ep1. I do think that the show probably originally planned on killing off Maksim but when they had to recast Ihvon for s3, it made more sense to keep the actor that the audience will know than the brand-new one. We see Maksim in shots of the Battle of the Two Rivers, so we know he lives (at least that long).

I think long-haired Rand in the river is probably from Egwene's Accepted Test, because his coat makes me think of Rand-as-Dragon type clothes. He basically has book!Rand hair. I'm guessing this is paired with the Wondergirls in their fancy clothes on horses.

I think we'll get the bubble(s) of evil in the first episode and it might be what makes Rand realize he needs to get moving and not stay in Tar Valon.

And then ep2 might focus on the White Tower and meeting the Caemlyn Crew, with subplots in other places -- so we'd get Mat fighting the princes, us seeing Elayne with her family. Maybe a flashback to Elaida becoming Morgase's adviser and showing us her 'talent' at Foretelling (her saying that the Andoran royal line is key to winning the Last Battle only a couple of episodes before we learn that Rand is of the previous Andoran royal line).

Ep3 could focus on Perrin in the Two Rivers -- finding out his family is dead and/or visiting Laila's grave. Maybe meeting Faile and Luc. Alanna and Perrin talking about grief, since she would have recently lost one of her Warders, and this might be the moment where we see Perrin let Laila go.

Ep4 then focuses on the Waste plotlines -- Rand in the columns, Moiraine in the rings, Egwene learning TAR.

Ep5 could focus on Tanchico and Moghedien (interrogation scene, etc). And, if my speculation (along with @markantonys) is correct, also the introduction of Tuon. It just seems like a good season for introducing end-game love interests to each other! And one of my big arguments re: Tuon is that she needed to be on the board so much sooner than Jordan put her there, so that she would have time to get a character arc.

And I think I might place Ep6 as the White Tower Coup, because in the new trailer, we have both Moiraine and Egwene bringing up points about the Tower being divided being bad and how Rand will need the White Tower for the Last Battle. Feels like set-up for the coup happening this season.

Ep7 as the Battle of the Two Rivers and wrapping up Perrin for the season. I think that Tanchico might be saved for Ep8, especially if we do get a little doorway action for Mat as well and Moiraine, and he potentially ends up in Rhuidean (I will only let this speculation go when it is proven untrue lol).

Mat is wearing a cord in the new poster, so I feel like that implies we're getting snakes and/or foxes this season, so that he can get the medallion (or he gets the medallion in the Tanchico museum, but our hints about having a special character in the final episodes who was a collab between practical effects department and make-up makes me lean towards the 'Finn).

Ep8 is then left for Rand announcing himself at Alcair Dal, Couladin getting in the way, and the Moiraine & Lanfear confrontation, plus the Nynaeve & Moghedien confrontation in Tanchico.

Then it leaves Elayne & Nynaeve in a position at the end of s4 where they can either merge up with Rand's storyline or they can go to Salidar first, depending on how many seasons Rafe feels like we're going to get (this idea first floated by @markantonys! it makes so much sense).

[naffeclipse]

I absolutely adore every AU you come up with, but I was actually curious if you had already or were considering writing a traditional DCAxReader? Hopefully I can kick this art block soon because there is so much fanart I want to draw of your stories :) Hope your week is going well! (besides the roof disaster ^^;;;)

On another note... AUs are my brainrot and I keep thinking about that post about the large bed... and spoopy ghosts. Clipgeist? No running away from something that can follow you to the ends of the Earth. Poor Y/Ns just can't catch a break lol

I have a few canon stories with the DCA x Reader on my Ao3 but nothing as grand or long as my AUs! I do have a 'canon' story plotted but I don't know when I'll write it. Hopefully one day!

Ah, that's so exciting! I hope you can chisel that art block down hehe 

It's going good (aside from the roof ;-;) I have this week of school before we go on break for Thanksgiving and it can't come soon enough!

Shaking your hand so hard rn!! I love AUs! And a spooky ghost one? Oh ho, I've always wanted to write a domestic monster scenario!

Perhaps Y/N moves into an old, old house with steep roofs, pointed arches above the windows and doors, and a lovely porch. It's two and a half stories tall (the half story is attic space under the roof rafters) with a four-story central spired tower! All dark wood and even darker interiors. You can't desire if it's Dracula's castle or a fairytale home for the happily ever-after-ed prince and princess. It's even got a secret underground tunnel! What more do you need when flipping a home? You love restoration and you intend to keep all its gothic charm while updating it to be, well, livable.

It's also incredibly cheap! Like, stupid cheap, for something that should be incredibly pricey for its prestige style and historical value. Not that you've ever looked a gift horse in the mouth, but even you have second thoughts before ultimately snatching up the house key.

The first night is always unsettling—maybe you hear a voice whisper in your ear despite it being dead silent and there's not a soul for miles, but you'll brush that off as getting spooked by old ghost stories your brain conjures up within the ornate decorated rooms.

From there, things get stranger and stranger still. Your paintbrush is moved and you know you didn't set it there because of the wet paint dripping onto the floor. The electricity is ever fickle, turning off at the most opportune moments during the night, like when you swear you saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway, all thin and scraggly with a ghostly smile and an inhuman head framed with wavering energy that almost seems to glow like embers in the dark!

Still, you continue your repairs and restorations, sometimes softly talking to yourself out loud and talking to the house like it's a wounded animal you intend to restore back to its fittest with all the love you can pour out of your heart. Places need love, too.

The most obnoxious thing is that you can't access the tower—the door is always locked, and no matter what key you try, it refuses to budge. You don't dare risk causing damage by prying it open, but you swear you'll get into that tower one day. There's got to be treasure inside with how mysteriously it stands, just out of your reach. Though, you've mostly put it aside for now. Whenever you jingle keys in the lock, you swear you hear a voice grow angry with you, and the hallway becomes so cold you can see your breath.

So, yeah, you're saving that for later.

The pivotal moment of you even considering a haunting is one night when you find yourself overwhelmed and stressed from the ever-growing list of chores and how everything is falling apart faster than you can fix it. You dissolve on the living room floor into thick tears. You're usually so put together, even when alone. You hate crying. There's no one to hold you together except yourself, so why fall apart in the first place?

Your little moment of getting it out is interrupted when a quilt falls over your shoulders. A soft, heavy quilt of midnight skies and dotted pale blue stars that was never in this room.

You leap to your feet, quilt falling away, and call out in classic horror victim fashion, "Who's there?" but no one answers. In frozen terror, you stare at the room, expecting something, anything to jump out or scream at you, but it's so, so quiet. All is still, like apologetic comfort.

That couldn't have happened. No draft, no forgetfulness could explain how a quilt was draped over you as if by a concerned friend.

You stare at the quilt and decide that you've had a long day. You go to your room, unable to relax even once you're under the covers, feeling something cold and misty above your bed.

When you wake in the morning, that starry quilt is draped over your lying form. You did not put it there.

Something or someone else tucked it around you.