#Morgana put the knife down

[hoarder-of-dragons]

Morgana: Alright that's it

Morgana: I’ve decided that I’m planning a wedding.

Gwen: Whose?

Morgana: Merlin and Arthur's

Gwen: They're both engaged?!

Morgana: I'll make sure they are

Gwen:

[larluce]

Have you ever thought of the episode A Servant of Two Masters with a scene like Ella Enchanted when she breaks her curse? If you don't know the scene or the movie, that's okay because I have ✨a vision✨

Like that:

Merlin inside is dying because he's trying to kill Arthur and that's his worst nightmare, but Arthur decided that needs to be open and honest to Merlin and just tries to confess. I don't know how they got there, but just imagine that Arthur is talking sweetly to Merlin, holding his face with love and going to kiss him, but Merlin is crying because he's with a knife in his hand and trying to stab Arthur in the back. He breaks the curse, but Arthur saw the knife and assumes the worst.

I did watch that film! "A Servant of Two Masters" had the pontential to be very angsty indeed. But of course they decided to make it comedy. Not that I didn't like it anyways, but a more serious take like the one you are proposing would have been GOLD.

I recently saw a post similar to this, not quite, but kind of captures the same idea: LINK

But you inspired me. So I'll add this to your vision:

Just as the movie, Agravaine orders for Merlin to be arrested before he can explain anything, proclaiming he's in alliance with Morgana. However, Arthur, though still very hurt and confused, starts to analyse the situation. Why would Merlin try to kill him now? Is not like he didn't have better chances before. Has he done something to make Merlin change his mind about him? What did Morgana offer him? And why a knife? Merlin literally serves him his food, he could have poisoned him, find a more discret way to do it, he's a physician apprentice for gods sake! Was his servant this dumb? Then he remembers, Merlin was crying through all of it, and he seemed like he was trying to tell him something but couldn't. He thought it was due his emotional confession that his servant had tears in his eyes, but now... could it be that Merlin was forced to do it? Maybe Morgana threatened someone dear to him? Like his mother or Gaius. Or maybe he just can't bare the thought of yet other person betraying him, specially if is Merlin, that now he's making excuses for him? Doesn't matter, he can't execute Merlin, even when his uncle keeps insisting on it. So he just keeps him in the dungeons ad pospones his death sentence as much as he can.

Just as Arthur gathers the caurage to go visit Merlin to ask for answers, against his uncle's wishes of course, Gaius aproaches Arthur and tells him Merlin was under the fomorroh's control giving him the burned cut head of the snake as a prove. He explains he went to visit Merlin and Merlin gave him that and told him Morgana put it in his neck to control him when he was captured, but somehow he managed to break the spell. His uncle intervenes, telling him is all lies, that Gaius just wants to save the boy because he's dear to him and accuses him right then and there of being the traitor they were looking for. For Arthur, however, there was never a doubt, his Merlin is innocent, he never wanted to betray him. He almost cries of relief and, ignoring his uncle and his physician's dicussion, he runs to see Merlin.

His smile fades once he gets there though, cause Merlin, his Merlin, is hanging from a rope. Horrified and in full panic mode, he puts him down as quickly and as carefully as he can. He yells desperately for the guards to fetch Gaius and starts making CPR, but even when Gaius later appears to help it's too late. Merlin's dead and Arthur's whole world is put upside down.

There's a note Gaius finds hidden in Merlin's clothes, it says: "I'm sorry, Gaius. I couldn't fight it much longer, I could feel it, growing back again, trying to control me and I couldn't let it, not again. I would rather cut my own arms and legs and being burn in the pyre a thousen times than hurt Arthur, much less kill him. I won't go through that nightmare again. Please tell him I love him too, that i never mean to do it. I love him more than I love myself. But if he doesn't believe you, if he hates me forever, it's alright. I don't blame him, so don't blame him either. Keep protecting him, please. Specially from Agravaine. Loves you, Merlin".

Gaius shares this letter with Arthur and of course he breaks all over again, but then he asks, "Why did Merlin told you to protect me from my uncle, Gaius?". Gaius doesn't want to answer at first, but Arthur commands him and Gaius answers carefully "he believed he was the traitor, sire". Arthur responds after a pause "And you believe that too?". There's a silence before the physician says "I gave him the pergamine and the ink, he said he wanted to write a message for you that later I would deliver. I was a fool, I should have known..." he sighs. "But I wonder... where did he get the rope?". And that's when when all clicks to Arthur. Agravaine was the one insisting on killing Merlin inmediatly amd Merlin didn't have access to any rope. He confirms it when the guards tell him Agravaine visited Merlin once, they couldn't hear what the man was telling to the boy, but it sounded like he was threatening him.

Agravaine was the traitor, Agravaine gave Merlin the rope. Agravaine is the reason his Merlin now is gone.

Arthur goes to his uncle a sword in hand and demands answer with the blade on his throat. First he dinies it, but then he laughs. "You killed my sister. You and your father" he admits. Arthur's expression remains as a stone "What did you tell him?" Arthur demands. "I just offer him a less painful way to die". Arthur kills him, but finds no satisfaction. He's dead inside. His Merlin died thinking he hated him and he let him believe that. He didn't visit him for days after all, he didn't confront him inmediatly for answers, he let his uncle cloud his mind. This was his fault.

Arthur looks at his sword and puts the point of the blade on his heart. He's about to push the blade when suddenly the doors open and the sword flies from his hand. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" a familiar panic voice shouts at him and Arthur turns. A Merlin with golden eyes is running to him and then hugs him tightly. "Are you mad?!" Merlin's still scolding him, but Arthur's just watches him in shock. "Merlin" he's only capable to mumble.

It turn's out Merlin's magic saved him somehow. It just put his body on the verge of death enough to make the fomorroh believe that the body was uninhabitable so it left his body completely. His mortal body was now too weak though, so his only vital energy left is his magic. That's why his eyes are constanly gold now. It takes a while for Arthur to understand it. Specially the magic part, but honestly, he's far too happy and relief to have Merlin back that he can't be mad about Merlin lying about his magic. In fact, if anything, he's thankful for it, since it saved Merlin's life.

"But you didn't plan that, did you? You did actually try to kill yourself" he accusses however, still heartbroken at the fact.

"It was the only way I could think of-"

"Never, Merlin" he commands him very serious. "Never do that again"

"I can't promise you that"

"Then any harm you do to yourself, I'll do it to me"

"You can't do that!" the warlock shouts horrified. "You are the king! You have a kingdom-"

"Our kingdom, Merlin! We built it together and it's nothing without you either"

"I'm just a servant, an illegal warlock now. My life doesn't matter."

"Don't ever say that again!" Arthur holds Merlin fiercely. "Didn't I tell you're the most valuable person to me? The only person I could trust with my life" tears run down his eyes.

"But.. I lied to you. I even tried to kill you"

"Lie to me then, kill me. You have my permission"

"Arthur-"

"No, I just got I glimse of what a life without you would be and I won't live it again. Not for a second. I can't lose you again".

"I can't lose you either". Merlin cries too. "My magic, everything I am, is yours. It has always been yours". Arthur caresses his cheek.

"Then let me take care of what it's mine"

Between tears, they kiss. Is not really tender or passionate, but pure necessity for the other.

"I'm sorry" Merlin snifs separating the kiss "Gods! My eyes won't stop shining" he says embarrasssed and tries to cover them.

"Don't" Arthur says while he uncovers his eyes gently. "They're beautiful" Merlin smiles but then sighs, sadly.

"The rest won't think the same"

"You don't have to worry about that"

Arthur gives Merlin a royal pardon so he's the 'only legal sorcerer' unless until he can make magic legal again completely. Gwen and the knights accept him inmediatly. The rest are wary at first but eventually they accept him too, when they realise he's the same clumsy servant they always knew. As Merlin recovers from his near death experience, his eyes glow less, but Arthur loves to see Merlin's eyes turn gold everytime.

Aaaand that's all I got. My imagination can't do much.

[whumpninja]

tried to save this for spooky season but screw it, vampires in summer. who cares. definitely not me.

Featuring: five (5) hot n’ evil vampire whumper ladies, one (1) sad wet cat of a bloodbag whumpee, blood drinking described in stupid amounts of lurid detail, THIS IS GRAPHIC FOLKS, blood drinking from places other than the neck, slit wrist, magic hypnotism (what do you call that thing vampires do where they control people?? that. it’s whatever that is), magic healing, discussions of mercy killing, dehumanization, creepy pet names

sweet william

The blood ran slick down her throat, warm and wet and syrupy. Thick enough to savor, but thin enough to flow. Right now it was still a stream of crimson, but in a short while it would be no more than a trickle. A little had spilled down her chin; she straightened up and dabbed away the red spot with her sleeve. Then, sighing with pleasure, she bent her head and continued her meal.

“Morgana, you have to share.”

“Mine is the right to begin, Selene.” Morgana bit down again, harder this time, feeling the moment her sharp fangs pierced through the soft skin. She watched the twin rivulets roll down from the wounds and licked the drops of blood up just before they fell onto the stone. “Tradition doesn’t say when I have to stop.”

“Before you kill it, I should hope,” Annabel said blandly from her seat at the other end of the cave. A rat perched on her head, another sat on her shoulder, and two more slept in her lap. She had at least a dozen. “We can hardly get another out here.”

“Lilah keeps trying,” Selene replied. She stood leaning against the wall, toying with the little knife she insisted on carrying with her. “She’s out there now, hoping to stumble across fresh meat. I don’t think she likes this one much.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine why.” That was Lucy, sitting on the floor at Annabel’s feet, humming a little song to herself. “This one’s so good and sweet. Isn’t it almost Annabel’s turn, Morgana?”

“Vultures!” Morgana complained, raising her head. She felt the way the blood dripped from her chin, the way her sisters stared hungrily at the scarlet droplets. “Can't you let me eat in peace?”

“No,” replied Lucy, in a voice like sugar. Her big, soft eyes were no longer black, as they had been the day before. They now shone a dark wine color and were getting brighter as her need for blood crept up on her. In a few hours they would be glowing hot and red, and she would attack the first living thing she saw. Selene’s brown eyes and Annabel’s hazel ones were also beginning to redden. Sometimes the bloodthirst was useful. But when they were trying so hard not to be discovered, they dared not risk letting themselves fall into that state.

With a sigh, Morgana stood. Power rushed like a river through her- she didn’t know what it was about this human, but his blood rejuvenated her like no others had. She would have had to drain a full-grown man dry in order to get the same effect a few mouthfuls of this one’s blood had on her.

And, of course, she had had much more than a few mouthfuls. She’d taken nearly half. It was her right as leader of the coven- the right to begin the feast, and the right to drink her fill.

Annabel was next by right of seniority- she was older than the rest of them put together. Morgana stepped back from the stone shelf that served as their table, letting the elder take her place. While Morgana preferred to take her time and savor her meals, Annabel was more brisk about it. Morgana didn’t feel the need to watch her sister eat; she’d seen it dozens of times.

So instead, she watched the human.

He was a soft little thing, as timid as a rabbit. They’d had him a year already, and yet she thought she would never be tired of seeing the fear in his big brown eyes. She loved the way his brows knit together in the middle, how his frightened eyes darted back and forth, how his chest rose and fell in terrified gulps of air. They didn’t need to restrain him anymore. At first, they’d had to tie him down on the stone table, and even then he had thrashed like a calf being butchered. Morgana had begun using her magic to force him to lie still, and that had worked beautifully. Now, she hardly even needed to use that.

Annabel craned her neck and sank her fangs into the meat of the human’s shoulder. A little moan broke from his lips as the blood started to flow. Only Morgana was allowed to drink from his neck- the most vulnerable place, the traditional area for biting. The others had their favorite spots, but his throat belonged to her alone.

Annabel was quick about it. She drank down several deep mouthfuls, sighing in pleasure, and then took a small clay dish and let it fill with blood. “Thank you, dearie,” she said happily, patting the boy’s head. She set the dish down on the cave floor and made little kissing noises, and all twelve of her rats came scampering over to drink.

Privately Morgana thought that was disgusting; the little creatures could find their own food. Her lovely cat Clover got along fine hunting squirrels and mice in the woods, not drinking blood with her mistress. But Annabel’s business was Annabel’s business. If she wanted to share her meal with her pets, that was her affair.

“Hurry up, I can’t wait any longer!” exclaimed Lucy. Annabel picked up the empty dish and sat back down in her chair, rats swarming over her. Lucy was up now, her eyes bright with hunger.

Selene raised an eyebrow at the younger vampiress. “If Lilah were here you’d have to wait even more,” she pointed out.

“Well, she’s not. So eat and then let me have my turn!”

Selene shrugged and peeled herself away from the wall, sidling up to the stone table. The human recognized her even in his dazed stupor; Morgana saw the flicker of fear that lit in his eyes. Selene never used her fangs.

Selene looked down at the human for a moment, then set the blade of her dagger against his wrist and slit the vein. The cry that tore out of the boy’s mouth was music. His back arched, and his head twisted to the side, his eyes filling with tears. His legs curled in on themselves and straightened out again, a long-buried instinct to fight back awakening only to die again. Selene rarely bothered with magic, even to keep a victim still. She liked to watch them struggle. Theirs never really fought anymore, not like he once had, but there were still the little helpless writhings of a creature in pain, and Selene enjoyed those as much as she would have liked a true scuffle. She kept her eyes on the human as she bent down to drink, a smile tugging at her lips.

Selene was messy about it, too. The blood spurting from the opened artery got everywhere, which would have driven Morgana mad but didn’t seem to bother Selene one bit. She had remarked once that she liked the feeling of blood splattering her face; it reminded her of a fresh kill.

And speaking of- “Careful, Selene,” Morgana warned, low under her breath. The boy was getting a little too pale for her liking. She didn’t want him to die just yet, and he was so fragile. Taking too much blood could very well be the end for him.

Selene raised her head. “We need a new one,” she said firmly. “If we can’t even get a good meal without it dying on us-“

“If you want more blood, go and find a farmer to eat,” Morgana shot back. “I like this one. You will not kill him. Not yet.”

Selene stared at her for another moment with narrowed eyes, then stood up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Fine. Lucy, your turn.”

“Finally!” Lucy jumped up and smoothed back her long black hair. “You took forever, Selene.” She sidled up to the boy, her eyes sharp and hungry. Morgana watched as she ran a gentle hand down his cheek. “Poor darling,” Lucy cooed. “She was cruel to make you feel all that.” With her other hand, Lucy wove a sigil of vampire magic in the air, pressing her fingers to the human’s forehead. For a moment he thrashed again. Then the magic took hold, and his body slumped to the stone. His brown eyes glazed over, and a little smile curved his lips. Lucy beamed. “There, sweetheart, isn’t that better?” She moved down the table, keeping a hand on the boy, until she got to her own favored drinking place. “This won’t hurt a bit, darling,” she promised.

Lucy licked her lips and bit down harder than even Morgana had, her fangs burying themselves in the meat of the human’s thigh. There was another artery there, and she severed it easily, letting the blood spray into her mouth for a moment before she bent her head to truly drink. If he hadn’t been enchanted, Morgana knew the boy would be screaming with pain. But Lucy’s magic made it so he felt nothing but pleasure and perhaps a little sting. Lucy liked her victims to think they were enjoying it.

She was, perhaps, the most dangerous one of them all.

Lucy took her time- not so long as Morgana had, but longer than Annabel and Selene. She kept stopping to glance at the human’s face, stupefied into a smile. Morgana wondered how far she’d taken it- had she only made him believe he was enjoying being fed on? Or had she woven some sort of illusion for him to lie in, dreaming that something else entirely was happening? She could do both. Morgana didn’t see the point, herself- it was almost kinder to let him feel it, let him know what was happening. As soon as Lucy was finished, the pain and the reality would both come back to bite him. Ha. Morgana smiled at the inward joke.

Lucy finished at last, snapping her fingers to release the spell she’d laid. The glaze on the boy’s eyes faded, and Morgana watched them fill back up with pain. He glanced almost frantically around the cave, unable to remember what had just happened. All he knew was that it hurt.

Watching that was almost as delicious as the blood itself.

Morgana almost stepped forward to take him off the table, but a voice interrupted her. “You started supper without me?”

The last of their little band came into the cave’s main room in a jingling swirl of gold beads and black braids. Lilah was humming, so Morgana knew she wasn’t truly angry.

“Did you find another one?” Selene asked.

Lilah pouted. “No. I think they’re watching for me now, after last time.”

Last time had been when Lilah had encountered a hunter in the forest and politely asked him if he wanted to be eaten. She’d been lucky not to be shot. Poor Lilah, Morgana thought. The young vampire tried so hard, but she just hadn’t gotten her head wrapped around- well, anything. A little simple, Selene had once said of her, and Morgana thought secretly that perhaps she was right.

“Go on and eat, little sister,” she said aloud. “You’re last, I’m afraid.”

Lilah shrugged, tossing her satchel to the side. “I don’t mind.” She practically skipped to the stone table, tipping her head as she looked at the human. “I’ll be quick, chickie, don’t worry.”

Lilah hadn’t really gotten the hang of magic yet, so she didn’t bother bespelling the boy. She also didn’t care that drinking from major arteries was much easier than drinking from anywhere else. Her claimed spot was a vein in the chest. Morgana watched as she bit down into it, the human gasping and writhing beneath her. Lilah mumbled something around her fangs.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Annabel reproachfully.

Lilah popped her head up. “I said, I’m going to try not to take too much. He seems tired.” She bit again, closer to the boy’s heart, and began her noisy meal. True to her word, she didn’t take long and didn’t take much. She hopped off the human with a little sigh and went to go dig in her satchel for whatever she’d found on her adventure.

Now that they’d all eaten, it was Morgana’s turn once more. She came to the stone table, looking down at their human.

The boy lay very still. Blood pumped sluggishly from the wounds they’d made, spilling red over his skin. His eyes were distant, unfocused, tears of pain streaming down his face unheeded. He’d given them everything he had to give.

Poor child. Five vampires were a lot to satisfy. Morgana raised her hands, weaving a healing sigil over him. Only she could do this part.

She took the finished spell in her hand and set it against each of his wounds in turn. The ragged punctures- and Selene’s cut- knit themselves back together at the touch of her magic, leaving dark bruises that would turn to scars in time. There had to be scars, with vampire magic. It never healed all the way.

The boy was too dazed and tired to react to the magic- he was used to it by now. Morgana helped him to sit up. “There, lamb, it’s over now,” she murmured. “You were so good for us, sweet. So good.”

Across the cave Selene scoffed.

The boy didn’t seem to hear. Morgana brushed the sweat-soaked curls away from his forehead, and he leaned into her touch like Clover often did, his eyes fluttering closed. “There now, little lamb,” Morgana said soothingly. “You did so well.”

“We need a new one,” Selene said. Her dagger blade flashed in the light as she toyed with it. “This one’s nearly spent. It gets weaker every time we eat. It’s been spelled stupid. I doubt it even knows its own name.”

“Oh, hush,” Morgana said. “You know your name, don’t you, lamb? I say it often enough. He’s our dear sweet William.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes when she said his name, she was sure of it. He’d be all right once he recovered, and they wouldn’t need to eat again for about a week. Soon he’d be back to his usual self, scurrying about the cave doing his chores, perhaps making a saucy comment or two when he felt brave.

With the fingertips of her free hand Morgana wove a tiny command sigil and set it on the back of his hand. “Go and rest now, little lamb,” she said, and he obeyed instantly. She watched him stumble to the fireplace at the side of the cave- Lilah had managed to bring along a Persian rug when they’d had to flee into the woods, and the boy slept there now. He almost fell onto the rug, curling up with an adorable little sigh. He was asleep in moments.

“You might have had him put his shirt back on,” remarked Annabel.

Morgana tossed her dark curls irritably. “My, how clever we are today. Does anyone else have an opinion on how to run this coven they’d like to share? Lucy? Lilah?”

Lucy took the hint and wisely shook her head.

“Now that you mention it, I think we all ought to have a picnic once a month,” said Lilah.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “I can’t tell if you’ve spent too much time in the woods or not enough.” She leaned down to pick up Clover, who was rubbing her legs and meowing for attention. The cat bumped her little black head against Morgana’s chin as she continued. “Regardless, I am the leader of this clan. We’ll get a new blood source when I say we will. And that’s the end of it.” She looked around, daring any of them to challenge her.

None of them did.

Satisfied, Morgana set Clover down and went to the fireplace, crouching by the sleeping boy’s side. She couldn’t explain what drew her about this one compared to the many others she’d drained in her long un-life. He was just…special.

Selene had come up behind her, looking over her shoulder at the dying fire. “Morgana,” she said in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear. She took up the poker and stabbed at the logs. They’d need more wood soon, but the human wasn’t in any shape to be collecting firewood just yet. “You know it would be a mercy to kill it. It’s barely clinging to life. We can find a better one easily and let this one rest.”

Morgana sighed. “I know. But he’s…I can’t explain it, Selene. He’s special. There’s something about him. The taste of his blood. The way he looks at us with those big, scared eyes. The way he even has the ability to feed five vampires without dying. I can’t let go of him yet.”

“When you decide you’re ready, I’ll do it for you,” Selene offered. “I’ll make it quick. Painless. It’d be a kindness to him, Morgana. And better for us too.”

Morgana answered with a noncommittal hum.

Selene wandered away, likely to do something frightening with knives. At the back of the cave, Annabel sat in the old rocking chair they’d found, petting her rats. Lucy was embroidering something, stitching spiderwebs onto it in black thread. Lilah slouched cross-legged with her back to the bloodstained stone table, sorting through whatever junk she’d brought back from the woods.

Morgana retrieved the boy’s threadbare white shirt from the side of the cave and gently draped it over him. “I won’t let her kill you,” she said softly. “No, you’ll stay with us for a long time yet. I’m already looking forward to our next meal.” She brushed aside the black curls and wove a dream sigil for him, laying it on his forehead. The furrows in his brow eased, and Morgana smiled. “Sleep soft and dream sweet, little lamb,” she whispered. “My sweet William.”

[little-teacupss]

Small snippet!

Note: Unfortunately I'm going through a bad writers block I don't have much inspiration or motivation to write any of the series or much of anything, but I hope you enjoy this! Remember to go show much love and support to my friends @skellseerwriting, @brokenmilkcrates, @leoisbabygirl, @frenchgirltalya, and @giveityourworst!

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The sun shined through the curtains and into the prince's royal chambers, where a certain personal servant was running around with random things from place to place. While a blonde man sat and watched eating his breakfast. "Take a breath, Merlin; you'd swear you're going to be beheaded."

Arthur remarked, tapping his knife against his cup and shaking his head at the other man's frantic behavior

Merlin stood in place for a bit before sliding into the seat across from Arthur. His eyes darted from place to place before he started tapping his hands against the table. "D- do you think I could have the day off?"

The blued-eyed prince squinted before leaning back, not wanting to appear surprised at the request Merlin had made. Shaking his head again, he stared back into Merlin's ocean-like eyes and shrugged. "You're a personal servant. My breaks are your breaks, and I don't get breaks."

He lifted his eyebrows at him trying to get a reaction from him before going back to his food. A soft knock on the door interrupted Merlin, who had wanted to say something.

The two men turned around to see Gwen at the door with Morgana standing in front of her, who beamed brightly. "We wanted to come say happy birthday to Merlin!"

The ward and maid quickly pattered their way to the birthday boy slinging their arms around his shoulders. Morgana ruffled his hair giving him an unkept look while Gwen gave a shy chaste kiss on his cheek making Merlin take on a soft shade of pink.

"You couldn't of led with that Merlin?" .Arthur was now fully leaned back in his seat, his arms folded over his chest, looking like the embodiment of entitled rich boy energy. Merlin gave a small chuckle as he stared down at his lap before looking back at Morgana and Gwen. "Well, I thought you would've known I've only been working for you for what a year and so many months now?"

This made the prince roll his eyes. How was he supposed to pay attention to the little things

He had other things to do winning over the people, impressing his father. Not getting caught with a servant or two. "Well, you never told me about your birthday last year."

He continued to sulk before hopping up from his seat hobbling enformally over to the group and clapping his hand on his shoulder. "Well then you'll have to spend the whole day with me no breaks remember a birthday to remember?"

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Tagged list: @skellseerwriting, @leoisbabygirl, @leoisbabygirl, @frenchgirltalya, and @giveityourworst!

Anyways till the next story! Ba bye!

[mjwiththefangs]

Trickery & Daggers - Chapter 9

In which we tackle arachnophobia. Also on AO3 Masterlist Word count: 4859 Warnings: Biting, arachnophobia, vomiting, knife play

--

“ ‘Vampire spawn, although weaker than the Lords that spawned them, have incredible strength and powers including spider climb. These combined with their affinity with shadows make them a dangerous adversary to face alone.’ Hm, well, fancy that, the little warlock was right.” Astarion reads aloud with a hum. “It would seem that Bastard kept us all starved for more reasons than we knew.”

 The bitterness lances through him, twisting with renewed fury and loathing for the one that turned him and tormented him all these years. So far, the book has been insightful. Not only in teaching him new things about himself, but about other undead also. He had been hoping to find something - anything - to use against Cazador, though so far it's only reiterated what he already knows. Sunlight, silver, a stake through the heart.

 He was amused to discover that lesser zombies will not be hostile if you smell like a corpse. It seems to be unknown if the same is true for greater zombies, being that they only seem to occur alongside necromancers.

 He leafs through the pages, skimming more text and paragraphs on vampires, until he turns another page and raises one brow, curiosity bubbling within him.

 Dhampirs.

 “They’re real?” He murmurs to himself, half-believingly. 

 ‘Often referred to as half-vampires, these creatures are not always the result of a union between a Vampire and a Mortal. ‘

 Now there’s something interesting. He’s assumed dhampirs are such a rarity due to the nigh-impossibiltiy of their conception. But maybe they’re not such an impossibility after all. 

‘Documented instances of dhampiric existence are confirmed but not limited to macabre bargains, necromantic influences and encounters with abstruse immortals.’

 He reads further, torn between amusement and a grimace when he finds that parasites can trigger this transformation through the host indulging its hunger. Well, these tadpoles suddenly have a few more complications or potential consequences. That will make their removal certainly interesting.

 Surely, being a vampire, he’s the only one of the group who is guaranteed to be safe of dhampiric transformation. Although, according to the next page, most studies show that while still sensitive, and in most cases weakened, they can walk in the daylight. Most of the time. The text seems to suggest that it can vary on an individual basis, what traits or powers a dhampir will share with a vampire.

 ‘ Typically, dhampirs can integrate and blend in better than their shadow-sworn kin. ‘

 “Ugh, what an obnoxious way of putting it.” Astarion rolls his eyes and instead returns to reading on what makes such a creature. “... ‘Reincarnation of a vampiric lord ancestor ‘ ? Oh dear, Strahd himself may yet walk among us!” He laughs to himself and then he instantly becomes more sombre, the fun lost, when his eyes fall to the next known cause of transformation.

 ‘Tragedy interrupted the transformation into an immortal.’

He stares accusively at the words for a long moment. His jaw clenches. He snaps the book shut.

Astarion decides he can read more later.

.

 “The sign says Moonhaven.”

“Well, the goblins were calling it Bogrot.”

The jovial chatter between Wyll and Karlach drifts in through the broken doorway of the apothecary.

“There’s a hatch over here. Shall we go down?” Morgana calls, peering over the counter top to the elf flipping through what appears to be a ledger.

 “Hm? Ah. Yes, it sounds like the owner had something hidden in a basement.” He says thoughtfully. Her own curiosity piqued now, she nods, and opens the hatch, descending down the ladder into the dank and stale room below, thankful for her inherited darkvision as she scans around her.

 Astarions boots step noiselessly down the ladder behind her, signalling his arrival. He stalks into the room, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

 “Ugh. It reeks of undead down here.”

 Morgana only hums in agreement. They both search the room, examining books, rummaging through drawers, patting down shelves, until Astarion makes an excited noise and something clunks and drags across the floor behind the bookcase.

 “A secret door.”

 “How cliche.” Morgana says dryly, and he giggles.

 Through the doorway, they find themselves in a cavernous opening, with sunlight leaking through the ceiling, and the thick smell of decay lingering about the coffins.

 Undead.

They exchange a quick glance. Astarion flips his daggers in his hands and crouches low, Morgana’s magic hums to life in her palms, and she takes aim, and nods.

…

 It doesn't take them long, going one by one through each coffin and eliminating the hostile skeletons in each one. Morgana checks all the remains, looting any valuables, while Astarion brushes any remaining bone dust from his clothes with apparent disdain.

 She can hear him muttering under his breath and rolls her eyes, hiding her smile, and wanders deeper into the cavern, halting when she spots something catching the light.

 “Astarion! Over here.”

 When he joins her, she gestures to the shining surface. It takes them longer than either would like to admit to realise they’re looking into a mirror.

 “I keep forgetting your reflection just disappears.” He clicks his tongue.

 She shrugs, scanning the silvery surface. “Honestly it’s rather pleasant to not be the only individual without one.”

 Before he can retort, a presence surges to life within the glass surface, a featureless mask, its hollow voice echoing out.

 “Speak thy na-me.”

Morgana lifts her chin, thinking, and slowly answers “Morgana.”

“I do not kno-w this name. Tell me, are thee an ally of my ma-ster?”

She grimaces and purses her lips.

 How about this…

“I know your master, Ilyn Toth.” She’d found a journal in the other room and quickly skimmed it. He was a former Red Wizard, although he only spoke of ‘Bringing her back.’

 “Ha. Clever little Warlock.” Astarion mutters his approval and she smirks to herself, pleased.

 “Fin-ally. If thee could see any-thing in me, what would it be?”

 Morgana pauses, folding her arms across her chest. What would she want to see in this mirror?

 “...I'd see myself free of this worm.”

“You se-ek to surv-ive.” The voice in the mirror seems pleased with her answer, and without much more to say, it dissipates, allowing the pair access to what appears to be a lab.

 Morgana lifts her chin in wonder, eyeing the large aquatic-looking skeleton hanging from the ceiling and glancing over the various apparatus and discarded, long rotten body parts, now mere bones, littered about the space.

 “What is all th-”

 She squawks indignantly, suddenly jerked back and flails her arms to keep balance. The warlock whirls on the vampire, incredulous, only for him to level her with an unimpressed stare.

“Traps.” He deadpans, pointing, without looking, right where Morgana was about to step. Her face burns briefly with a flash of embarrassment, but she clears her throat, regains her footing and mutters a thanks.

 She can feel his smug eyes on her as she carefully steps around the room, minding her footing this time, and approaches a locked gate.

 Her brows lower into a frown. There’s something magic in there; very old, and very powerful. Grasping at the bars, she tugs.

 It doesn’t budge.

 She clicks her tongue in annoyance. Turning, she reaches into her pockets, fishing out a lockpick and pin. A huff sounds over her shoulder.

 “You can’t pick a lock.”

 Morgana just rolls her eyes, carefully poking around in the lock with the tools. Unblinking, she mutters back “I can pick a pocket, can’t I?”

 “Yes, and you didn’t notice your own pocket getting picked by yours truly.” Astarion counters. “Just move over and let me do it before-”

 The tool snaps, a loud click echoing through the room.

 Morgana sheepishly turns her head up to him, Astarion glaring firmly at her. Relenting, she shuffles over without a word and he swoops down, peering into the lock and then immediately scoffs.

 “You’ve jammed the lock, darling.”

“You… can’t unjam it?” She asks meekly.

 He rises back to his feet, hands on his hips, exasperated. “No. I can’t. It's one thing to break a tool, it's another to break the damn lock in such a distinctly unhelpful manner.” He flaps his arms. “Now we can’t get in there and find what treasure they might have been hiding.”

“You’re incredibly petulant, you know that?” She says dryly, earning another glare. If he were a cat, his tail would be lashing in silent fury. “Look, maybe i can just blast the door,”

 “No. It’s trapped. You really are no good at spotting these things, are you?” 

 She throws her head back at his mocking tone, swallowing her own irritation, when she spots something.

 “Hey…”

 The vampire ignores her, skulking away already.

“Astarion?”

 He stops with a stomp. “What?”

“Did you read that book? The one I gave you?”

She can feel his intense gaze on her, puzzling over her. In her peripheral, he follows her gaze and looks up. The bars reach almost to the high ceilings, but there, near the top, there is a gap.

 “What are you thinking?” He asks, releasing a long sigh.

 “Can you spider climb?”

 “Ugh, this again-”

“Astarion have you even tried?” She levels him with a firm stare and he falters.

“Well, no-”

“Are you hungry?”

He freezes. Slowly meeting her eyes with some lingering trepidation.

He really is like a cat.

“Do you think you could do it if you feed?”

 His eyes dart to the barely-healed marks on her neck and she ignores the zip that his heated look sends up her spine.

 The vampire pauses, considering. “I would be willing to try it.” He says slowly, a silent question in his words.

 Oh. She had expected this, of course. But somehow, it still makes her flush.

She swallows.

 “You… You can feed on me, if you like.”

 His gaze darkens. He steps closer.

Bergamot.

 “If you’re sure, darling.” His voice is low and rough.

Rosemary.

She nods, resisting the urge to bite her lip. He taps a finger under her chin, tilting her face and leaning down.

Brandy.

“Use your words.” His breath ghosts over her skin.

 “Yes.” she whispers, and then his lips brush against her throat, hesitating for a heartbeat, allowing her this moment to change her mind. She holds still, only tipping her head to give him easier access.

 He hums his approval, gentle hands brushing her hair away, and then she gasps as his fangs sink into her neck, arms gripping her tight.

 Like the first time, it’s like ice, chilling and then numbing. Then it feels like she's floating. Her hands wind into his embroidered doublet, holding tight in an attempt to keep herself grounded while his arms snake around and hold her tightly, pressing her body against his and winding his fist into her violet locks.

 It feels… nice. Intimate, maybe. 

 She hears a soft groaning noise from her companion. Then a small moan. Heat sparks through her, even as her fingers start to grow cold.

 He’s been starving for years, she reminds herself, firmly, Of course he’ll enjoy a fresh meal. Although the thought of being meal did nothing for the heat rising to her cheeks.

 He drinks deeply, pulling her lifeblood into himself, savouring each mouthful, and right as her knees begin to go weak, he draws himself back.

 Those intense rubies bore into her, his face still so close. He drags his tongue over the wound, chasing the last drops of her blood, a final pleased groan escaping him, and a soft breathy whine leaves her lips unbidden.

 He looks more alive; there is a faint colour to his cheeks and the tips of his ears are tinted pink. He almost looks like he could be blushing.

 They stay that way for perhaps a moment too long, his arms slow as they release her, moving to her shoulders in an attempt to steady her. The whole time his eyes don't leave hers.

 He must be able to hear the erratic beat of her heart, she’s sure, and maybe she’s a little mortified. It is Morgana who looks away first, mumbling under her breath about the trail of red from the corner of his mouth.

 The vampire suddenly recoils back, as though uncomfortable with her proximity. His tongue darts out to lick up the stray line of blood and the tips of his ears flush a deeper pink.

 “I-” He clears his throat, regaining his composure, “thank you.”

 His attention pointedly turns to the wall, doubt still etched on his features.

 She watches him, wryly, trying to calm her racing pulse and quickly knocks back a healing potion, and gestures with the same hand towards the wall.

 “Well?”

He pouts - actually pouts at her - his mouth twisting into a grimace. “Are we sure spawn can just - walk on walls?”

 “Oh for the love of-” Morgana sighs deeply, one hand now cupping her neck and again waves the bottle as she speaks. “If it fails, I promise to catch you, ok?”

 One silver brow quirks up, and while he clearly still has his doubts, he resigns himself and tentatively places one foot on the wall.

 Then the other.

 She watches his face morph with surprise, and notes just how round his eyes are when he’s not frowning or flirting. It doesn’t take him long to get the hang of it, some excitement lighting his features as he scurries up the surface, over the bars and deftly snatches something from a pedestal on the other side.

 He returns moments later, hopping down in front of her and brandishing an aged ugly book. She cocks her head.

 “Can I see that?”

 Reluctantly, he hands it over.

 Malevolent magic oozes from the book, two large amethyst eyes on the cover boring into her soul, the wide gaping mouth with its uneven teeth appearing like a trapped scream. The book does not open. But the magic from it resonates in the air. She can feel its putrid pull, back out of the basement and not too far away.

 “There’s some sort of key nearby…” She mumbles, tracing her fingers over the leathery cover. 

 Astarion straightens beside her.

 “Well. We better go find it then.”

.

“There’s something down there?” Wyll peers over the edge of the well, eyeing the depths quizzically. “Are you sure?”

 Honestly, no, she wants to answer, but she can feel that chill touch of magic, the traces luring her down into the well.

 Her lips purse in thought.

 “Try throwing a gold piece down, we'll soon know what's at the bottom then.” She reasons. Astarion makes a disgruntled noise behind her.

 “A copper piece.” She amends. Karlach snickers.

 Wyll, good-natured as always, acquiesces in her request.

 The coin clinks down the well and makes a distinct thump shortly after.

 “It’s empty.” Wyll exclaims, “and not deep either.”

 They all look to her, and Morgana peers over the edge, noting iron rungs in the stone bricks. Steeling herself, she tugs her sleeves over her hands, swings her legs over the edge, and begins the climb down.

 It is dank and dark in the bottom of the well, the sounds of skittering in the distance make her skin crawl, but the magic pull is stronger here. Once again, she is grateful for her darkvision.

 And quickly remembers that at least one of her companions may not be able to see in the dark.

“Wyll,” she keeps her voice low, quiet, wary of the sounds echoing around them, “can you see alright?”

 By the tentative steps he takes to crouch beside her, she would wager that, no, he can't.

“Not as far as the rest of you, but I shall manage.” He responds.

 Karlach and Astarion come to crouch beside them, opposite in their countenance, Astarion’s stealth barely undermined by the soft glow of Karlachs engine.

“Stay close” Morgana tells him, the group steadily working their way into the cave as she follows the tug of necromancy and insatiable curiosity.

 She’s so absorbed in tracing the magic, not taking note of her surroundings, barring the chittering noises sending shivers up her spine, that she stumbles and her foot catches in a strange cocoon.

It’s only then, Wyll diving to help her, Astarion drawing his bow and Karlach brandishing her axe, that she notices the cobwebs surrounding them.

 Panic begins to swell in her chest, and she tugs her foot while Wyll slices through the cocoon. 

 Skittering sounds close in around them, the group staying tightly together. A shadow moves along the wall and Morgana swallows a shriek.

 Her leg finally free, she scrambles to her feet, hands crackling with power, but Wyll grasps her wrist. “The light will attract them.” He whispers, raising his rapier, then turns his head, concentrating, relying on his hearing over his limited vision.

 “Let’s just find this key, and hurry up and get out of here.” Astarion hisses.

 Morgana nods vehemently, squashing her magic down and tempering her impulse.

 Karlach hangs back, axe at the ready, maintaining steady breaths in an attempt to keep her flames down. They inevitably have to squash a couple of ettercaps, Astarion and Morgana hanging back with arrows and suppressed Eldritch Blasts, Wyll fighting alongside Karlach in her flamed fury, cleaving through them, and the few larger spiders that inevitably draw near.

 It seems for a moment as though no more are coming. 

 Until skittering noises rush close and Morgana almost screams.

 If not for the cool hand clapped over her mouth, and yanking her back into the shadows, out of sight. Her heart hammers in her chest, the worm suddenly squirming and Astarion’s voice whispers into her mind at the time as her back is flattened against him.

 “Keep. Still.”

She does. She doesn’t dare to move. Fear spikes through her and she holds her breath.

 Slowly, slowly, the sounds fade, and Astarion releases her, and she gasps, her hands trembling. She whirls to face him, and his eyes drop down. Confused, her own eyes follow to the blade in her trembling hand.

 It’s the first time she’s unsheathed her dagger since waking up on the beach.

 She drops it as though it burns her.

 They both stare at the ornate dagger for a moment, before she snatches it up and quickly re-sheaths it.

 “Th… Thank you.” She says. She brushes herself off, avoiding looking at the vampire, even as his questioning eyes linger, instead scanning for their two horned companions, spotting them a little ways away, wiping off their weapons.

 She waves them over.

 “I don’t think it's far now. Let’s just get this over with.”

 They follow behind her as she follows the trail. Around a corner, she spots it; a pulsing purple gem, seeping with necromancy. 

 But then, just above it, her eyes land on the largest spider she’s ever seen in her life, and all of its many eyes land on her.

 “♐︎◆︎♍︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎●︎⬧︎!” She swears in sylvan, and unleashes an eldritch blast.

.

The arachnid matriarch is dead. It must be. Morgana has unloaded three more blasts to its foetid corpse, and when she’s finally certain the bug is definitely dead, she spins on her heels, trips, and unceremoniously heaves, emptying her stomach's contents.

 “Ugh, charming…” 

Without looking, she flips off the grimacing vampire.

 “You doing ok over there, soldier?”

 Morgana retches again, unable to answer Karlach right away, hands now braced on her knees. The warmth from Karlachs hands hovers just over back, offering what little comfort she can without burning her.

 Coughing and gagging, Morgana takes a deep breath, filling her lungs, and finally straightens herself up.

 “Thanks Karlach, I just -” She gulps down another deep breath, this time reaching for her water skin, “I just really hate spiders.”

Wyll guffaws a laugh and quickly covers it with a cough, though his expression still shines with thinly-veiled amusement. Karlach grins.

 “Well! Let’s get out of here and get you some fresh air, eh!”

 She nods her agreement, noting that the purple gem is no longer on the floor, but she can still sense its power looming from the pale elf innocuously dusting himself off and with a minute shake of her head, she trails after Karlach towards the exit.

.

The fresh air does wonders for Morgana’s lingering nausea. Not so much for the clammy uncomfortable feeling of her padded armour sticking to her skin. She wrinkles her nose in distaste.

 “Have we searched all the buildings here?” She asks aloud, turning her head to Karlach. 

 “There’s a few older houses over here, they had some new-looking chests in them.”

 They both turn their heads expectantly to Astarion. Morgana’s mouth twitches into a sly grin.

 “You did say that I can't pick a lock earlier.”

He scowls. “Fine! But if there’s anything valuable, I want the first pick.”

 She chuckles and nods, and so that's how Astarion ends up lockpicking several trunks and chests, making unimpressed quips about how a few had nothing of value, finally stalking off with a huff to find Wyll when he’s done.

 Morgana and Karlach rummage through the chests. She picks a plain looking trunk, and unceremoniously upturns it, emptying its contents, when a flash of violet catches her eye. The half-elf pauses. The trunk did seem new, and it had been sealed, and there’s no musty smell emanating from the garment when she picks it up and examines it.

 “... Hey, Karlach?”

 “Hm?” The tiefling’s head pops up.

 “The area is clear now, right? We can take a break?”

“We cleared out goblins yesterday and now with those beasties today, i don’t see why not -”

 “Good. Keep watch for me for a moment.” Morgana interrupts and quickly strips herself of her padded armour, yanking it over her head and discarding it, ignoring the fresh air on her clammy skin and squirms into the new item, tugging it down. 

 “Holy shit. Your tits look great in that!” Karlach exclaims and Morgana bursts out laughing, smoothing her hands over the corset-esque top and flushing at the sight of her rather ample cleavage.

 “Hells, they don't look too showy, do they?” She laughs nervously.

 Karlach beams at her. “If you've got it, may as well show it off! Though I have to wonder where you've been hiding them!”

Morgana flushes, laughing awkwardly. The garment really does emphasise her assets. She was already somewhat well-endowed, and now, 

 “I look like I’m displaying goods for sale…”

“You look great!” Karlach chortles, “Now come on, Wyll will have lunch ready!”

…

Their lunch should have been uneventful. Or at least, it would have been not for their unwelcome visitor.

 “A devil?! It's bad enough we have worms in our heads, and now there’s a devil after us?!” Astarion splutters.

 “You can’t trust a word he says -” Karlach starts, ferociously.

“There is no good to come of dealing with a devil!” Wyll asserts.

“Let’s just get back to the others,” Morgana reasons, gathering up their things, and ushering them back to camp.

 The whole way, both Wyll and Karlach urge caution with Raphael, the newly acquainted devil in question, each recounting their own less-than-stellar experiences with devils and fiends. 

She allows the pair to take charge in recounting the meeting when they reunite with the rest of their camp. Although first, Lae’zel assess Morgana’s new clothes with the exacting opinion she’s come to expect.

 “This outfit offers no protection. You may not wield a sword, but you still join us in battle.” The warrior assesses, “Although. It certainly adds to your charm. You look… nice.”

 Morgana is briefly taken aback. Regardless, she thanks the warrior, who merely nods her reply and briskly adds that she expects Morgana to join her in weapons training soon, to which Morgana insists she will practise in preparation.

 After today, having to temper her powers to minimise discovery, perhaps she does need to be able to use her weapon when magic is out of the question.

On that note, the warlock glances around, noting her companions in deep discussion regarding the devil. All barring one.

 She knows where to find him, because despite his stealth, he still has the gem on his person and she can follow the magic emanating from it.

 The vampire is sitting beside the river, just on the bank, away from the camp. She approaches him quietly, and when he briefly acknowledges her presence without asking her to leave, she sits beside him.

 They stay in silence for a while, and she wonders when he changed into his camp clothes, watching him observe the river flowing by.

 The half-elf speaks first.

 “So, you might be needing a creepy skin-bound book to go with that eerie jewel in your pocket.”

 His mouth quirks up, amused. “I don’t know what you mean, darling. This is a perfectly good eerie jewel all on its own, don’t you agree?” He produces the amethyst with a flourish, side-eyeing her, and with a flick of his dexterous wrist, it disappears again.

She shakes her head with a smile. “You seemed interested in it, so I left it in your tent on my way by. Just. Be careful. Necromancy is powerful stuff.”

 He scoffs, waving her off. “Oh please, darling, it might have something helpful for an undead like myself. I’d be a fool to pass up that kind of power.”

 She just shrugs, turning back to the river.

 After another beat, she asks him, “Will you spar with me?”

 “Teach you a few little tricks, you mean?” He says suggestively.

 “Honestly, you are such a flirt.”

 “Only with you, you sweet, generous thing.” His silken admission ignites a spark under her skin, and he smirks knowingly.

 In a blink, he rises with all the grace and skill of a practised performer, flicking a dagger free from his waist. Morgana rises to her own feet, inelegantly, and fidgets with her rings, blinking up at Astarion.

 Pointedly, he looks at her still-sheathed blade at her hip. 

“Nach tarraing thu d’airm?” [Will you not draw your weapon?]

She bites her lip. She swallows. Her eyes dart away.

 “Could I borrow one of yours? Mas e do thoil e?” [please?]

 Astarion hums, considering and tilting his chin. “Alright,” he concedes, “dèan gàire orm an uairsin. Carson nach cleachd thu am biodag?” [Humor me then. Why don't you use the dagger?]

 He tosses his blade to her, and she stumbles to catch it, having been mentally translating his Elvish question. He comes at her quickly, swinging a blade with careful precision, and she jerks backwards, thrusting the borrowed blade up with both hands to defend.

 The vampire clicks his tongue, effortlessly batting her away, and holding his own under her chin.

 Just how many times is he going to get a knife to my throat?

He’s watching her expectantly.

She swallows and her throat bobs against the tip of the blade as she does. She licks her lips, readying the words. She speaks slowly, disjointed.

 “B’ e a’ chiad mharbhadh a bh’ agam. Rinn mi na bha agam ri dhèanamh.” [It was my first kill. I did what I had to.]

 Keen red eyes blink with interest.

 “Your pronunciation is awful, darling.” He sighs dramatically, “and your form is simply terrible. A bheil fios agad eadhon mar a chumas tu lann?” [Do you even know how to hold a blade?]

Shame colours her cheeks. “No.” She mutters, momentarily deflating. Then she stands up straighter and squares her shoulders, determined.

“Sin as coireach gu bheil mi ag iarraidh ort teagasg dhomh.” [That’s why I’m asking you to teach me.]

“Better.” His fangs catch the light with his grin. He raises his hand, demonstrating. “Like this, darling.”

 He gives her a moment, watching how those silver eyes scrutinise his hold, his grip, and then she mimics him. She nods. He rushes her again, but this time, she manages to deflect. It’s sloppy, he notes, but with a bit more practice, she can parry effectively.

 “Tha thu nad neach-ionnsachaidh luath.” [You’re a fast learner.]

Her face lights up at his praise. She’s actually enjoying herself. Elvish is much easier to speak when she doesn’t have the time to think about it, she discovers. As for wielding a dagger, it takes concentration, and practice, and by the end of their little training session, she’s more capable of defending herself. And speaking more naturally in Elvish. A double lesson.

 Despite how much skin she has exposed, his blade has not touched her skin once, though, she supposes, Astarion is just that skilled with a blade. It was intentional that he didn't catch or nick her.

 She hands his dagger back to him, chest heaving as she catches her breath. He gives her that signature smirk, taking it back with a thanks.

“You never mentioned that you can speak silvan.”

 Oh? 

“I didn’t.” She answers levelly.

“How is it that a little half-human like yourself is fully fluent in silvan, but not elvish?” He folds his arms, tilting his head with curiosity.

 Morgana laughs breathily. “Fae stuff.”

“Well darling, you shall simply have to tell me more next time we have one of these little… study sessions.” 

 She smiles filled with mirth and amusement. “It’s a date.”

[talesofsonicasura]

Persona 5: Phantom Cat Pt2

Here we go with Part 2 of the Phantom Cat AU. I'll be covering the Confidants, plot changes, but also the potential of Poppy Playtime being more involved. Let's get started.

If I can sum up the Phantom Thieves' relationship with Joker in one word, it'll be protective. Even the Personas especially Arsène are no different. Ren does admit to once being human but everyone doesn't learn about his tragic backstory until after Okumura's Palace.

You can bet their ass they were disgusted upon finding out Playtime Co's inhumane experiments. It isn't uncommon for Ren to find one or more of his companions lay against him when he loafs around like a giant cat. Something the Thieves' Den makes easier as Leblanc's attic is not that spacious.

Morgana sympathizes with Ren the most. Both of them aren't human and won't be accepted by the outside world for it. Ren was lucky to find someone who raised him with kindness than just free the young man from a terrible fate. They're feline brothers, your honor.

Ryuji, Yusuke and Haru are three flavors of food friends. The former track star sneaking out for a daily run with Ren alongside the occasional ramen or snack food chow downs. His zoomies become manageable thanks to Ryuji. (Sojiro is still reeling from a hyper Ren pouncing on him.)

Yusuke enthusiastically introduces the living toy to the art world since he cannot visit a museum like a normal patron. Ren sometimes find himself being a muse for some of his paintings and usually portrayed as a peculiar enigma. The two always chow down on curry afterwards.

Gardening with Haru anyone? Ren always feel bad about how much money his new family have to spend just to keep him fed. (Futaba had a limit put on credit theft by Sojiro as he doesn't want both his kids to rely on illegal crime to survive.) Something Haru can understand since she has similar issues. The two bond over coffee together.

Emotional support Ann is a definite. The two constantly talk about facing their issues and ways to strengthen their heart. Ren is always happy to lend a ear whenever Ann has problems in her model career or updates about her friend Shiho's recovery. She gives good advice when the giant toy needs help getting Futaba used to the outside world.

Makoto is the socially awkward training partner. Both Ren and her don't have much experience with people outside their friend group so neither know what can be considered normal. The two hammer out each other's issues whenever possible or just vibe together.

All of the Persona in the group do their best to make Ren feel normal every time the group is together thus shenanigans are guaranteed. Carmen and Milady are the wine aunts who endorse the chaos. Necronomicon is his 2nd fellow prankster partner(Futaba is 1st).

Zorro, Johanna and Goemon being the only responsible adults most of the time. Captain Kidd is a sheer chaotic neutral as no one knows whether he'll start something or remain level headed. Finally we get to Arsène.

The poor pigeon hasn't been in this particular element before. Nonhuman Persona Users are a thing so it ain't that. Ren's heart can be considered a massive mess. Whatever was done to make him a living toy, it left something vile behind. Yet Ren continues to defy fate even with the leech latched onto his soul.

Thus Arsène can be a bit more aggressive when it comes to Ren's health. Always near the surface of his partner's subconscious whether to offer soothing words or protect him if needed. In the Thieves' Den, Arsène is usually found snuggled next to Ren with a cover around his knife heels.

Now most of Joker's Confidants are people he has to sought out. A more complicated affair due to not being human. There is actually one more Confidant he has mostly maxxed out and knows about his status: Tae Takami of the Death Arcana. (Yes I absolutely complete the whole thing early just to unlock Alice.)

Sojiro was concerned about Ren's health as they had no clue if or when health complications will occur. Thus it led to Tae becoming his secret doctor as she not only the closest but is trusted amongst the community for her skills. It was a very interesting conversation to say the least.

Now Ren is quite crafty when it comes to establishing his other bonds. Until he could shift into a more human size, Futaba prepared a special plushie with a built in-camera that he can talk through. The excuse being Ren is an hospital patient undergoing recovery after serious health complications and this toy helps him interact with the outside world.

Now onto plot changes, the deadlines alongside their consequences for failure remain the same. It's just not for the first two Palaces. Ren is still captured and put in the Interrogation section. Although it took the traitor attacking from the shadows to injure him enough for police to subdue the Bigger Body.

He's far more beat up, chained and has a specialized muzzle since Ren is a giant chloroform breathing cat toy monster. Can't forget the possibile dissection if he can't escape his fate. The plot for the Third Semester dances around the chance to be human again in his face. Ren doesn't take it of course.

For Scramble, he casually chills in everyone's bags and pull the special patient card to converse with others. Ren can still cook as it's a calming hobby for him alongside gardening. Plus the sight of a giant CatNap in an apron cooking was too hard to resist.

Also yes, I am in the 'Adopt Sophia' group cause she's precious. Especially when Ryuji got to say fuck just to defend her. Sophia definitely calls Ren 'kitty' but he really doesn't mind unlike Morgana. Yes, they do snuggle in the Thieves Den as no one shall avoid the cuddle pile.

Awkward dad Zenkichi anyone? Man absolutely flipped upon seeing Ren as he thought the whole report about 'Phantom Cat Joker' being a giant purple monster was a joke. Nope and you shall get your tired ass dragged into cuddles cause Ren smells stress.

The Persona also get more involved in the shenanigans too. Only Ren's confidants or those who delve into the Metaverse long enough can see much less interact with them. Best to keep Captain Kidd away from fireworks though. (There are special cases but that's for later.)

Before you ask, yes, Joker's main Showtime special is different. Instead of just blasting Shadows with Eiha, Ren breathes out chloroform smokescreen and bursts forth alongside Arséne to come down on their targets like a predator. The attack retains the Curse element but does Physical damage too. A Two in One type combo.

Tactica's plot remains the same however every target views Ren with disgust. All saying there is an 'chimeric abomination' latched onto his heart. The enemies also target him more than Erina and the other thieves.

Speaking of her, she does think Ren is a cat who again doesn't really mind much. Toshiro absolutely freaks out and takes awhile to get used to him. Gameplay wise, Ren is mostly the same except he has more movement options to fit his feline Bigger Body.

Pouncing on further away enemies, inflict Sleep status in large groups, and his Phantom Judge special turns into Phantom Roar. An attack where Ren breathes out a massive cloud of chloroform for Arséne to convert into a Eiha powered explosion. Not only does it do massive damage but also has a high chance of inflicting Sleep status on targets.

Finally we move onto Poppy Playtime. If you guys were paying close attention, then the signs should be obvious. Something is connected to Ren and his past holds the answers. Thus the Phantom Thieves of Hearts visit the Playtime Co Factory to see if they can help their friend. He had been experiencing vivid nightmares which all link to this place.

Now the factory isn't the same like in the game. For unknown reasons, the place has become a pseudo-Mementos linked to the collective consciousness of the various souls who linger inside. Thus the factory has potential to shift anyone in the affected areas in or out the Metaverse side without warning.

A chance of Shadow attacks are not only high but there is a possibility that something even deadlier lurks inside. There are occasions where it is required to travel through this dangerous 'Labyrinth' to progress deeper. (Can't have them blazing through the place.)

Everyone split into two groups so they can cover more ground. Group 1: Ren, Yusuke, Ann, Makoto; and Group 2: Morgana, Haru, Ryuji, Futaba. They'll be encountering characters who not only appear in Poppy Playtime but also Project Playtime. Player character is there too so the Phantom Thieves will meet them.

Guaranteed canon divergence as some of the Poppy Playtime cast might not even encounter the game protagonist. The Phantom Thieves won't ignore someone in need *looks at one particular character* and don't kill their targets. For them, living with guilt for one own sins is a fate worse than death.

New players have entered the game that neither groups could ever foreseen. Can the Phantom Thieves of Hearts solve the mystery and shut down this the factory's immense distortion? Only the phantom cat will determine victory or defeat.

[quartergremlin]

vack om my trollhumters vullshit

i love you varvara never change. those horns sure are for his deceit.

steve calling coach his dad and them havimg to correct himself. i love them. THEM ARE COVERING FOR THEIR FAMILY-MESS AT SVHOOL

GET THEY ASS UHL

they really are terrible students huh.

MO STEVE!!!!!

honestly, this whole episode is nearly indistinguishable from like. a regular teacher breakdown. rip to everyone with those stories about purple flyimg momky.

"emotionally commect with him" sticktler the MVP I guess? for at least giving them advice instead of going "a cat?? rip to you buddy better put that thing down."

mrs. jameth that's mot good for your digestive system.

MO SMR UHL MO

"a pep talk from your favorite student?" mot for long eli. just wait until krel gets here.

Smr. uhl honestly the scarriest here. turms into somic. "gatito" ... the meowing.

oh fuck you strickler.

weird-ass relationship there tho. that's fun. i omce saw you as a father but you've betrayed me and threatened the ome we both love dearly. etc etc

.

Jim thimgs that are funny to me amd I hope they never chamge:

1 - imsecure avout skimmy legs.

2 - mervous around claire when mot im immediate danger - impulsive spanish

"girls domt pee. they conspire!"

jim you are failing so hard. you're lucky you're both such nerds.

DOUXIE!!! my little sopping wet meow meow loser.

RULE THREE!!! *comfetti* love me some rule three.

love that this is the same bathroom set from the museum. yaas team keep recycling those sets so you cam put more energy into other things. like all those fire effects. jesus.

loving morgamma. keep being absolutely unhinged. also the voice effects are cool.

*tries to stab jim with a butter knife* "she's flirting with you"

"begome servant" > *the distinct sound of 1000 years of douxie servitude immediately clicking into place*

its also interesting to see how these people have changed from the past im wizards to mow. even if they didn't plan on having Morgana be a pretty normal person in the past like. i can see how being imprisoned for that long would drive you insane. how you'd completely lose your shit, try to kill a guy with a butterknife, and them down a raw steak im negative 2 seconds.

jim only hitting morlaire in the face with pillows while motemrique has no qualms about knocking her out cold. that's the sibling effect right there.

claire gravs motemrique by the scruff: *vaguely annoyed*

morgama does it: *kills her with cast iron pam*

kmowimg what I do about merlim. i get it. guy sucks. i would absolutely want to destroy everythim he's ever touched too. sorry yall ever met him.

also I like that while they do have a light/dark good/evil thing going om it's not that dark magic is vad necessarily. vlimky defimetly doesmt think much of dark magic. its just the connection between claire amd morgama is able to ve exploited by morgama, who is looking out for her own self-interest.

it happens again amd again but im always somehow surprised when trollhumters says: good amd vad are subjective. what really matters is if you can look out for the people you care about amd hold your values. something like that. im sure I could say something more coherent about it later. im multi-taskimg.

[missredherring]

Mark Strong Masterlist

🌶️= spice

Archie (Rocknrolla)

Ask Prompts:

“I’m gonna come to your house with a giant fuckin’ boombox in my hands.”

“Fight me!” “You’re like three feet tall, stop telling people to fight you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Remove the hand before I remove it for you.”

“Will you marry me?”

“We’re not having this conversation again.”

First kiss.

“Quick, kiss me!!” 🌶️

“I want to bend you over and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

"You look wonderful tonight."

The first time you cook for him and the Wild Bunch.

“What’s in it for me?”

"Thick thighs save lives." 🌶️ (Plus Size Reader)

"Welcome home, love."

“Then we better make this quick.”

A Real Mouthful 🌶️

“Can I suck you off?”

In the Quiet 🌶️

A month later Archie asks you to meet him in a parking garage. He opens the trunk of a car and shows you two bodies inside. You look down at them. The big one was knife-happy and it was the small one’s idea to brand you. You nod and the trunk is closed. The car will be dropped off at a warehouse by the docks and men will clean the mess up.

Speakeasy Slide

The shrill scream of a whistle broke the happy atmosphere of the club. A lightning strike of terror went through your body. It seemed like the entire bar froze, only to jump into action when the whistle sounded again.

Throw Your Spark Into Oil and Fire - Prequel

He’s a little surprised that his keys still work in the lock when he opens the door to his house. There’s a layer of dust on the foyer table he puts his bag down on. It feels wrong; still, quiet, empty, and cold. A small card had been knocked off by his bag. He picked it up and read it. “Welcome home. -Lenny.”

Marry Me, Archie

His pace slowed and he turned to you, his face carefully neutral. “What was that?”

Merlin x Reader x Archie:

Family Matters - Part One, Part Two

There, in the midst of bar crawlers, was a man who looked like the spitting image of Merlin.

Merlin (Kingsman)

Ask Prompts: 

“I’m gonna come to your house with a giant boombox in my hands and tell you that I love you.”

Quick! Kiss me!

A Night Out

"I love it when you grab the sheets when you’re about to cum." 🌶️

The moment Merlin realizes he’s in love with you.

“Fuck it. Might as well have fun, if we’re going to get caught.”

Purely staring at Reader's lips. 🌶️

“Why are you so jealous?”

The Tailor on Savile Row

The way you looked down at his handiwork and back at him with some awe made his chest ache. Your appreciation and admiration made him feel like an ordinary man. He hadn’t felt ordinary in a long time.

Drive On, Drive On - Part One, Part Two 

 It was the please that had you accepting the request, sending your ETA, and starting the car. At least this one was polite. Agents had been known to send demands or orders rather than requests. Sometimes they didn’t even bother going their locations, expecting the drivers to just know where they were.

Destiny Calls - Part One, Part Two

Rage surged and he wanted to rip Morgana to shreds. She knew that he’d come for Nimue. Across of the centuries, the many lives he’d lived and died, the one constant was Nimue and the boys. His search for her, for all of them, was what kept him sane. That and the hope that they could finally live together in peace again. But Morgana would always rise along side them and death would come shortly after.

A Man Possessed

Merlin is possessed by the spirit of Lord Henry Blackwood.

A Letter From the Dead

"I got a birthday card from a friend in which she’s written 'You already know everything I’d write in here.' I can understand that; I feel more than words can say. But that was still pretty shitty of her, and I’m going to give it a try."

Slow Hands

“Oh, you’re doing the dishes? Bless your heart.” He smiled when he heard you behind him. Then he yelped and jerked back, splashing water out of the sink and two freezing hands touched the back of his neck.

Stealing Moments

This was a mission, you reminded yourself, but you could enjoy moments like this, right?

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Pauline

Pauline found it difficult to pack her backpack. But she knows that she is the one who got herself into this situation. Even if unintentionally. Pregnant, alone and with only a handful of luggage. "Morgana said if I had problems, I could come to her...but I don't think there would be room for me there. Hh, where else can I go?".

It felt like there was no end to the day. She visited Morgana and told her everything. But unfortunately she couldn't give her shelter, it would have been too cramped with one more person. So she would have to continue her search… She was tired and hungry… And surprised. "Zelda, is that you?".

"Pauline? Hey, long time no see...". Pauline was very surprised. "What's happened, are you living here now?"/ "Oh, don't ask. Yes, hn, and tomorrow I'm sure I'll have the sore muscles of my life. You wouldn't believe how much I've done here in the last two days. And all the things I've found... Wait... Oh man, finally finished, another secure line, great".

Pauline put down her backsack. "Actually, there's a simple explanation for this. It could have been so nice with Gobias, but I didn't get on with Susan at all. And you're not just walking around with a backsack and a depressed look on your face for no reason, are you?"/ "Oh Zelda, I…"/ "ooh, someone's hungry… come in, I'll make us something to eat and then you can tell me what's going on"

"You really did all that on your own? There was almost nothing here but a ruin"/ "Yes, but only almost… Hey, but don't expect a luxury apartment inside, okay?"/ "I don't care what it looks like inside, the main thing is that I can sit down first, my legs hurt…"/ "hey, you're not 60 yet…"/ "No… Not that".

Pauline quickly noticed that it was pleasantly warm inside the house. There was an old rusty fireplace in the room, but it wasn't broken and it smelled pleasantly of the wood that was slowly burning. "So, be honest"/ "a bit shabby, but clean..."/ "I like shabby, but still chic, shabby chic, hnhn. Is salad okay for now?"/ "h-hh, mhm".

Pauline would have preferred to eat something really good again, but at the moment she didn't really care what was on her plate, she was really hungry. "Where did you get these pretty figures?"/ "Found them... As I said, I've found a few things recently. ".

While Zelda prepared the food, Pauline looked at the little figures in silence. She knew that Zelda loved kitschy things, playful things. And she had to smile... "So, what happened, sweetie? Stress with Xander? You're together, I heard?"/ "Yeah, n-no... I was... With him and... With Hank..."/ "With both?? Oh, wow, Pauline, hnhn".

"it's actually not funny at all, you know? I…I thought it might work, but instead I lied to myself and hurt them both"/ "hmm, well, they're men, they'll get over it"/ "surely not so fast, because…one of them is going to be a dad"/ "oh, congratulations, then…ouch! Wait… Are YOU pregnant??"…

"mhm… Yes, I am… And…". Zelda dropped the knife on the chopping board. Then she turned to her and squealed with delight. "I can't believe it, Pauline, you're really having a baby?". Pauline had to smile a little at her reaction. "Yes, but please don't make a big deal out of it, okay? I…"/ "h-h, oh man, oh man, that's really unbelievable sorry, but I… I'm just happy for you… Aren't you happy?". Pauline shrugged her shoulders a little.

Zelda only had to look at her face to realize that something more must have happened. Pauline's eyes filled with tears. "oh… Come here, hm. You don't know which of them is the father of your baby"/ "I have a suspicions, but I don't really know, no. And Xander, he… He kicked me out"/ "What? Oh man."

Pauline slowly pulled away from the hug "He was really mad, Zelda. I betrayed him and now this… I'm really bad, aren't I?"/ "Oh, no, you're not bad, just… Just always very quickly very much in love. But I know how you feel, o.k.? Hey, if you want, you can stay here for a while, all right? And… for your current state, I'll even offer you my bed, I've still got a sleeping bag"/"h-hh, Oh you… Thanks"/"not for that… Oh man, a bahaaby!".

After the salad was ready, they both took a plate and sat down at the table. Zelda could tell that it really wasn't easy for her at the moment. "But you… You want to keep the baby, don't you?". Pauline looked at her and smiled. "Sure… it's not it's fault. I didn't want children before… But now that I know it already exists… I like the thought. But… I'll be alone with him…or her"/ "oh no, you've got me, I'm the cool Auntie Zelda".

Pauline had to smile a little again. Zelda is indeed a good aunt, at least to her nephew and niece. She is very sorry that she no longer lives under the same roof as them. But luckily they can still visit each other. "the salad is really good, thank you"/ "there'll be meat soon, I've been practicing hunting with VJ"/ "Oh, really?".

"Mhm. there are some wild animals that have come back… We've already made a plan, nobody shoots more than one animal a week and we have to watch out for the season, when they have their young etc…."/ "I know my 'young' certainly won't be hunted. Don't you have a sink?"/ "I have to plug it in first, sorry, but there's a pump with a bucket outside".

Pauline went outside to wash the dishes. "oh man, that's really primitive... But also kind of funny. She did everything by herself... and what can I do? Drive men crazy, drive myself crazy... I hope I don't have a crazy baby".

"and I can really sleep in your bed? I don't want to be a burden on you, Zelda"/ "you have the more difficult circumstances, and I have enough space. don't worry about it, okay?"/ "mhm. Let's go to sleep then, baby... I'm so tired".

The first night alone, well, not quite. After all, Pauline now has a baby under her heart and she can stay with her friend for a while. They've known each other for a while, and they also have something in common. Both are half-Asian. And they certainly have common interests. We'll see how things go from here.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover 😊

[an-autistic-dweeb]

Healing pt.2

Part 1| Part 2 (here)

TAGS & WARNINGS⚠️: Angsty-ness, Depression time, Angor is still bad at feelings, Avery sucks at feelings too, Angor x OC, suicidal thoughts.

Avery woke up in a cold sweat, having just woke up from a nightmare about that night. The night their life changed. That night when Avery lost their eye. That night their best friend betrayed them. That night they had been dragged to the pale lady herself and cursed with a long lifespan. They let out a shaky breath just thinking about it. But they tried to remind themself that Angor was not in his right mind that night. That it was her that ruined both his life and their own. That Angor was not at fault, and that he was well on his way to redemption. Avery sighed as they felt the empty space next to them. If only Angor could remind himself of that too…

Avery got up from their bed and rubbed their face with their one hand. They grew concerned for Angor more and more each day. Angor sought closure last week, showing significant improvement in his own stability. But he still had episodes of guilt. Upon the first week of Angor and Avery living together, Angor refused to leave their attic, only coming out because they dragged him down so he could eat. While Angor did get better, he still had these episodes Avery had to talk him down from.

Avery pulled the ladder down and clamored up into the attic. “Angor?” They called out. No response. Avery fully entered the attic and looked around, stopping when they saw Angor’s shadowed figure, sitting on a box hunched over, as if pondering something. Before they could try to grab his attention, they saw the glowing green dagger in his hand.

They froze and looked at Angor’s face. It was clear he didn’t notice them. Avery put their hand on Angor’s shoulder, making him jolt slightly, holding the dagger defensively before recognizing Avery and lowering it. “… what do you want..?” He asked coldly. Avery frowned. “I want to know what you’re doing with that knife.” They said, trying to remain calm.

“… please… just go back to bed…” Angor said, his tone a little sad. “This shouldn’t concern you—” “You know damn well that it does!” Avery snapped. They were upset with Angor, and they couldn’t help that. Angor put the dagger down, frowning softly. “… I ruined you. I don’t deserve to live. Simple as that.” Angor said bluntly, looking down. “I’m not ruined.” Avery said softly. There was a long silence.

…and Angor spoke. “… I asked her to do it, you know. I asked her to make you live longer…” Avery was caught silent at that. They didn’t know how to respond. Angor decided to keep explaining, “I was selfish… I didn’t want to lose you… first your eye and arm, and then your life…” He said softly. Avery could almost swear they saw tears in Angor’s eye. They sat next to Angor. They felt many things at once. Betrayal, anger, sadness, etc. But they also felt… understanding.

Angor wasn’t in his right mind, being addled with Morgana’s evil magic. Avery still felt hurt though. Avery reached for Angor’s hand and sighed, “I would have fallen victim to plague, war, or famine anyway… you haven’t exactly robbed me of a life. You were under Morgana’s influence. I can’t really blame you completely…” Avery said softly. They felt bad for being angry. Something Angor noticed.

“… you have a right to be upset. I appreciate your comfort, but you are allowed to be angry with me. You don’t need anyone’s permission…” Angor said quietly, holding his hands together. He sighed and stood up. “We should… go back to bed. Come on.” He said, holding Avery’s hand. They grabbed it and stood up, leading Angor out of the attic and back to the bedroom. They both had a lot to think about, that was certain. But… at least they had each other to make things easier.

__________________________________________

(A/N: if you’re reading this I’m happy because it probably means you read this long ass page. Anyway, if you are wondering, Avery and Angor share a bed “platonically”…(yeah sure) and they both suck at feelings like the functional gays they are. Love you rats a lot, byyyeee)

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Congratulations

Thor Odinson x Guardian!Reader

Y/N has been Thor Odinson's guardian since birth, the highest of the Valkyries, sworn to protect the Prince with her life. what happens when she returns, thought to be dead for the past thousand years?

Fem!Reader

a/n: the villain i chose for this is actually from BBC's Merlin, go cry about it. also this isn't a romance i've just had the idea in my head for a good long while now. I also have REALLY inconsistent start of sentence capitalization.

my computer's a dick and wouldn't load any GIFs so I couldn't put one 😍

"we are gathered here, on the 1000th anniversary of the death of the mighty warrior, Y/n, to honor her and her legacy," Odin started. the same speech he gave every year. "she gave her life protecting the Crown Prince Thor."

"hold on," a strangely familiar voice emerged from the crowd. "last time I checked, I'm still alive."

~~~

the Lady Morgana was a fierce foe, and one of the greatest threats to the prince you've faced yet. making it your duty to stop her, by whatever means become necessary. she was a powerful sorceress, but so were you. and you wouldn't back down without a fight.

but you didn't get a chance.

her eyes flashed gold and you were knocked onto the soft grass.

and then you couldn't move,

couldn't speak,

but you could look around.

you could hear.

which remained your fate for the next thousand years.

until suddenly, you could move again. you could breathe, and you could talk.

after a thousand years.

you had watched as an entire village was built around you, and every spring they sacrificed a dove in your honor. who wants to bet it was the angel wings?

but one year, mere seconds after they plunged the knife into the heart of the dove, you were freed.

thank the gods Heimdall could still see you, or else you would have never made your way back.

back home.

~~~

all eyes were on you.

"Lady Y/n?" Odin's familiar voice filled your ears. he had clearly aged some. "you were thought to be dead. even Heimdall could not see you."

"I suppose I was dead. in a way." you breathed in before you continued. "The Lady Morgana turned me to stone. where is she? is she still alive?"

"the Lady Morgana is dead. she was killed shortly after your disappearance by a Midgardian sorcerer."

"Emrys. . ." you said under your breath. "where is Prince Thor?"

"he is safe, which I believe is only because of you," Queen Frigga spoke up. "would you like to see him?" "I would," you said with a smile.

~~~

"mother, you wished to see me?" said a deep voice as a man entered the room. surely, this could not be Thor? last you had seen him he was only five hundred years old. a child. he had grown handsome. he had golden blonde hair that fell just below his shoulders, his jawline gave the appearance of one cut by the ax you've wielded the entirety of your warriorhood. his blue eyes, though the same ones you had seen all those centuries ago, looked different. they were older. he had seen and learned far more than when you saw him last. his armor fit him perfectly, it was clearly made for his own form. he appeared strong now, and in his right hand he carried the same hammer he had since childhood. Mjolnir.

"Thor, you. . . you look so different." what a stupid thing to say. of course he did! it's been a thousand years! you shouldn't be surprised that he's changed, but what would he think of you now? would he even remember you? would he believe it was you?

"Mother, who is-" he cut himself off. "Lady y/n?" his voice could only be described as bewildered.

"it's me," you stepped closer to him, wanting to see him better.

"that's impossible. you died a thousand years ago."

Queen Frigga spoke up. "She didn't. she was turned to stone by a sorceress."

"And I was conscious for all of it," you added. "a village was built around me. they sacrificed doves to me every year. they probably thought I was some sort of goddess. how ironic is that?"

he gave a soft smile. "Does Loki know you've returned?"

"No, and I'm sure he'd prefer it that way," you said.

Prince Loki never liked you. you were sworn to protect his brother, while he was to be left in the dust. you didn't do it because Thor was your favorite, or anything, you had merely sworn to protect the crown prince. though while over time, you had grown a closer bond with Thor than you had with Loki, that was only because you spent all your time with Thor. with Loki, well, it was his choice how much time he spent around you. though you had prayed that he had overcome his childish grudge.

"though he will find out, sooner or later," the Queen said. "unless you try to hide."

"If he's the same Loki I knew back then, he'll find out all by himself, even if I do."

"somehow, I believe Loki has become even more Loki-like since then. It's like there's more Loki per Loki," said Thor.

"I doubt I'll ever understand you, brother," a new, unfamiliar voice said. looking past Thor to the grand double doors of the throne room, you saw another man, striding to stand beside Thor.

Loki too, had changed. his hair was dark, darker than any others you'd seen, and it was long. though not quite as long as Thor's. his eyes were green and were in a glare, with help from his low resting eyebrows. he was skinnier than Thor as he always has been, likely still relying on his magic rather than combat skills.

"Prince Loki. how have you been?" you needed no introductions. he knew who you were.

"progressively worse and worse, thanks. I suppose it's been the same for you?" he responded, his natural sarcasm still evident in his tone, even after so long.

"until it got better."

"I never thought I would see you again. what happened?" said the Prince. his tone didn't say it, but you could tell he was genuinely curious.

"Well," you breathed before retelling the story. "We had deemed the Lady Morgana a threat, both to your brother's safety, and also to the whole of Asgard. so, I went to Midgard to stop her before that happened. but it turned out that she was an even stronger sorceress than I had initially thought, and she was able to cast a spell on me, turning me into stone. I could still hear and see my surrounds, but I couldn't move. some Midgardian townspeople found me and built a village around me. they sacrificed birds to me every year, that's the only way I had of knowing how long it had been. but the day it hit the thousand-year mark, the spell broke, and I was free. I called Heimdall and he answered, and now I'm back!"

"What an amazing tale. such a good thing she's dead, oh the havoc she'd have wrought on Asgard," said the younger Prince, still with that damn sarcasm. did he want Asgard to fall?

Thor spoke up, saying, "and I can only guess you'd side with her." a high level of harshness filled his tone. what happened to the two? sure, they never got along well as children, but they never hated each other. is that what was happening here? perhaps. but maybe you could help sort it out.

~~~

but you didn't.

you never got the chance

he came too soon.

the Guardians too late.

you watched as Thanos killed half of your people, then Loki and Heimdall. both tried to achieve something, one trying to kill the titan, the other trying to send someone to Earth. but only one succeeded. then Thanos and his army of freaks left.

then you met people. the Guardians of the Galaxy, they called themselves.

then all but a damn raccoon died.

you got everything back, just to lose it all again a few years later.

but you had fulfilled your duty.

the crown prince, now king, was still alive.

congratulations.

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

for the au meme: au where nari, not bellroc, is the big bad? >:)

nari never left, obviously

it took bellroc centuries to leave- but leave they did, in the 1900s

nari was tired of the destruction humans wrought on the balance, of the species going extinct constantly, the clogged and poisoned air, 'they've put a hole in the ozone layer, for stars sake!' -in the end, though she was once fond of humans, her patience runs out and she must prioritize the rest of their creations

but bellroc... they can't help but be fond of these creatures, those who learnt to wield their flames, coax shape out of their metals, so unlike anything else they'd made

so they disappear, after nari proposes going back to the beginning, when it was just the three of them and all of the wilds, and skrael has a hard time finding fault in the idea

they don't go to merlin, at first

for one, he's a few hundred feet underground unconscious in a tomb specially designed to keep them away, and for two, unlike nari they don't want his company

(they love mortals but merlin is an outlier)

but suddenly nari is desperate, feeling like the world is going down in flames- and when merlin awakes they take their chances and approach him with a compromise

'you've touted yourself as humanity's protecter for centuries, boy- here's your chance to live up to it'

and suddenly there's another trollhunter, though they pull a knife on anyone who calls them one-

the kids don't know the details of why bellroc is there, only that they're going to help them confront morgana, and that merlin is hiding them from something

(it's an unsettling thought, that such a blatantly powerful person who refers to themself as an actual god is afraid enough of something out there that they can't use too much magic for fear of it revealing their location)

but when the trolljim-ification happens bells is definitely on the hitting him with a broom side, (with no walt to stop them) because that's still a kid, and they know he didn't choose it as much as merlin claims

also, bell and barb friendship absolutely happens✌️

[ashley-slashley]

Strange Days

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Summary: you enter your apartment one day to find an artifact on the floor, and a strange man sitting at your table. strange days have found you, but jim morrison is no where to be found

Rating: M/Mature

Warnings: language, some violence, long paragraphs

A/N: unfinished overall story. i transferred this from my ao3. enjoy!

Chapter 2: People Are Strange

Apparently after his previous apprentice turned out to not only bastardize Morganian sorcery, but also just too self absorbed for his liking, Horvath gave up and decided to start from scratch. I think Horvath made a somewhat horrible mistake by bringing me into the fold of sorcery, especially considering my antics. He does like my nihilism and somewhat morally gray values, so I suppose he puts up with it. In a way, he’s kinda like Walter E. Kurtz, I count Horvath’s mission to essentially sacrifice all of earth for Morgana to be similar to exposing the hypocrisy of the US military and just imperialism in general using vile and cruel methods.

I mean, very early this morning I dropped my cat’s water bowl as I was heading to the sink. “What the fuck are you doing here? I’m not going to ask how you got in here, because I just don’t feel like it.” I picked up the bowl while in awe of my mentor sitting at the small dining table in my kitchen - at like 6 in the morning. Horvath just stared at me, not quite irritated but not quite bored, I busted out laughing at this situation. Gripping the counter with a hand, and holding my heart with the other, I slowly drifted to the floor while laughing. In his typical manner, he asked why I’m laughing, that just caused me to laugh even harder, fuckin’ idiot.

Suddenly I was thrown to the wall, wrists and ankles bound to the wall by knives, again. He slowly slithered up to me, and raised my chin with the handle of his cane, “What is so amusing this time?” Horvath demanded as if he was about to mug me. I calmed down from my fit of laughter, “ok so, there’s this video on the internet where this one guy” my voice picked up, oh shit, “this one guy fuckin’ says ‘come into MY house, suck MY dick, and call ME gay’. Please don’t even try to question why I thought of that” he just rested his face into the palm of his hand, a finger slowly massaging a temple. Not even a day into my apprenticeship, and this man is done with my bullshit. He put the knives away and let me fall to the ground, the knife marks in the drywall are going to be Very difficult to explain to the landlord, and I don’t think he’ll buy into the facts of some weirdo appearing in my home and convincing me to join his gang.

“Since we’re both up, and - I get you haven’t been out in society since before World War I, even though you may have witnessed history while trapped as a nesting doll. Speaking of which, where the fuck did those roaches go?” I went on a tangent, Horvath just sat there in silence and not amused. “Before we even think of world domination, you need training, since I don’t trust you battling for Morgana in this condition.” he put it bluntly, “so, is this a paid internship?” I asked the man, “for the last time, (Y/N), no, this is an apprenticeship” he replied. “Goddammit” I slammed my hand on the table, my superior’s expression remained the same as Keaton’s - stone. Once again he exhaled through his nose in a mildly infuriated tone, “and no, you are not getting paid at all” he glared at me. Considering the outfit Horvath permanently wears, I would have thought he’d be loaded. What type of person who’s not wealthy looks like they literally stepped out of a thirties drama? Then again, he did step out of either 1900 or 1910, I don’t remember the exact year.

Horvath cleared his throat, “I can hear your thoughts”, “didn’t I give you a warning about my internal monologue?” I retorted. Horvath claimed my thoughts are too loud and obnoxious, and that in order to help him achieve world domination and destroy Earth, I need to learn to control my thoughts. Well, uh, no. No, I can't control what goes on in my thoughts or the volume at which they project. His glare intensified, “You know, you could not be exposed to my absurdity by not reading my mind.” I returned the glare. My mentor sighed in disappointment. “Considering older white collar folks wouldn’t be too keen on some people using a public property to practice sorcery, and the limited space of my apartment, I have no idea where we should go so you can teach. I understand, I’ll shut up.” I somewhat rambled on, I could tell he was intrigued and wanted me to explain.

“Ok, so, in the meantime you were trapped in that doll, or as, whatever, about thirty or forty years into the future, a generation of entitled, self righteous, bigoted, unpleasant people were born. They were raised to be those adjectives because their parents didn’t know jack shit about parenting considering some of them were in their early or mid twenties when they got married directly after World War II, yes, two world wars a bit over two decades apart, there’s a lot you missed. Anyway, the way that generation, the boomers, were raised is that their parents just gave them whatever they wanted because the economy was forgiving and allowed people to just buy practically anything and have as many kids as they wanted, even though the standard or average was two kids. Then these kids grew into rebellious teenagers who said ‘I hate that I got everything I ever wanted in my life, I’m gonna go become an artist or join a gang or become a movie star or whatever.

"When they became young adults in college, they continued to hate tradition and wanted to be heard - what I mean by that is that their parents would silence whatever concerns or problems their kids had by just buying them something. Anyways, the kids were seen as accessories and never really listened to, most of them wanted to pursue the arts and become singers, dancers, directors, painters,and whatnot so their voices could be heard. Where this all fits in with the older folks nowadays bitching and complaining about everything not being handed to them on a silver platter, is that they expect people to just stop what they’re doing to obey their entitled actions, usually it’s the older women who make a big deal out of literally anything, but whatever.”

What do you mean he didn’t silence me? I thought he would have done that, but whatever. Then again, I think Horvath wouldn’t mind hearing about those who oppress free will and individuality considering Morganians essentially want the world to burn and leave sorcery up to the individual practicing it. Wait until he hears about evangelism and hardcore Christians™, there’s other religious practices, Debra. “Well,” I trailed off, “we could go on the outskirts of town and find an abandoned warehouse. I don’t know what exactly Morganian sorcery entails, but if anyone pulls a ‘you’re not allowed to be here even though this place is abandoned and literally nobody comes here’ you can just throw them to another dimension or something, I don’t know” I articulated my words by moving my hands around, as usual.

[thenerdyindividual]

Merlin Week Day 1: Favorite Character(s) -- Merlin

Has also been cross-posted to AO3.

Merlin is such a fascinating character. He came so close to being the villain of the story, not because of anger or hatred, but because of how much he cares. (Which makes Morgana such an artful foil to him, especially when even Kilgharrah literally refers to her as the “hatred to his love”.)

Merlin’s motivations at the start centered primarily on keeping Arthur safe for the promised future of magic. He begins the show by seeing Arthur as a means to an end and is skeptical of Kilgharrah’s promises. (“There must be another Arthur because this one’s an idiot.”) But even then, Merlin cares for the world around him. That he even thinks to agree to work towards his supposed destiny, shows that he cares for others in situations like his. It is particularly poignant when we remember that he’s scared he’s a monster, sacred enough to reach out to Gaius and ask for reassurance in one of their fist scenes together. Before Merlin gets close to Arthur he still cares. Despite Arthur kicking Merlin’s ass on both of their previous meetings, he still cares enough about the world that he risks his life (both by using magic in front of Uther and the entire court, and throwing himself in front of the knife) to save Arthur’s. In that moment, it doesn’t matter to Merlin that Arthur is a bit of an ass, all that matters is another human being is in trouble. That is what makes Merlin act, and it is the core of his character for the rest of the series.

Obviously, he goes on to care deeply for Arthur on a personal level, not just as someone whose destiny intertwines with his, but Arthur isn’t the only way Merlin shows how much he cares. It’s in the friendship he shares with Gwen. He risks himself again by saving her father’s life as early as season 1 and continues to put himself in harms way for her. In the same episode where he saves her father’s life, an action that is risky enough on its own, he also throws himself in front of the court and admits to sorcery because Gwen has been accused. He rides out with Arthur to save her from Hengist, goes to her home when Morgana mentions Gwen has gone missing in Elyan’s introductory episode, and then rides out again to help her rescue Elyan. In season 4, when they face down the Lamia together, he was prepared to cast magic in front of her to keep her safe, even though it might cost him his life in the long run if Arthur took the magic reveal badly. And I’m sure there are more moments throughout the show where Merlin helps her, these were ones just listed off the top of my head.

He shows how much he cares for those around him in openly challenging Aredian the Witch Hunter when he plans to execute Gaius, and how he refuses to accept the explanation from Agravaine in season 4 when he claims Gaius ran away.  It is shown in the way he is willing to break the rules to try to help Lancelot with his dream of becoming a knight.

His skills as a physician improve over the course of canon. He goes from not knowing how to treat Mordred’s infection in season 1, to calling out ingredients that Gaius needs to treat Gwaine’s leg wound in season 3 before Gaius can ask for them. Part of this is practical, he can’t use his magic to heal in front of anyone but Gaius and Lancelot. However, it still shows how much he cares. He uses these skills to heal the knights, Gwen, Arthur, and Gaius himself. The people he cares about.

Camelot is saved by him more times than anyone will know, for no other reason than Camelot falling would cause pain and suffering to the people who live there.

He cares about Morgana through the entire series, though she had betrayed them by season 3. He helps her get Mordred out of Camelot in defiance of the prophecy that Mordred will kill Arthur, and he helps her reach the druids in season 2 when her magic gets out of control. He keeps her magic a secret, even in season 3 when revealing it would have made his life a lot easier because he cares about what happens to her. He cares so much that even when facing her down in Season 3 Episode 2, with the proof of her betrayal literally decapitating people, he still tries to talk her around. He tries to promise her that they can find a way out for her. He could have let her die in season 3, and it isn’t just his affection for a former friend that makes him heal her, it is how much he cares for everyone around him; how much he cares for Arthur and Gwen. Her death would have broken their hearts, and Merlin couldn’t stand that thought. In Season 4, Episode 5 he had the upper hand on Morgana during their fight, he could have killed her, but his love for his kin keeps him from going through with it, because at his core he cares deeply for everyone around him.

How much he cares about Arthur is visible in, well, *gestures at the entirety of canon*.

Merlin is a thrilling example of what happens when that love spins nearly out of control. His deep love for Arthur makes him the truest friend Arthur has ever had. He’s there when Arthur needs emotional support. Off the top of my head, I can think of Season 3, Episode 12, where he encourages Arthur to go back to Camelot to fight Morgana and reminds him that he’s stronger than he knows. In Season 3 when he allowed Arthur to speak on his feelings of Gwen after her perceived betrayal and encouraged him to follow his heart.  In Season 4, Episode 13 where he tells Arthur the story of the one true king and helps him pull the sword from the stone. In season 5, when he reminds Arthur that Camelot is thriving under his kingship, no matter what Uther’s ghost has to say on the matter. As a counter to that, Merlin is also there to gently deflate Arthur’s ego with teasing nicknames, snark, and harmless pranks. He as an influence that helps Arthur grow and balance at the years go on.

That deep love is also what turns Merlin into a much darker, far more tragic character by the end of the show. Especially by season 5, Merlin sees enemies wherever he and Arthur go. None is more apparent than Mordred. Merlin’s love for Arthur makes Mordred’s very existence into a horror of Merlin’s own creation. He loves Arthur so dearly, he doesn’t stop to think that treating Mordred with suspicion will set Mordred on a path to hatred, regardless of Mordred’s own intentions. For the first time ever, Merlin’s love for others, Arthur most of all, forces his hand. Never in the last 4 seasons has Merlin condemned someone for something they were destined to do. He never acted against anyone unless they had already taken the action to harm someone else. Mordred is so terrifying to Merlin that he acts first for once and advises Arthur to condemn Mordred to death. It is rock bottom for Merlin, and the point where his big heart has been so twisted up and broken by betrayal that he can’t think of what else to do to protect the man he loves.

Though, interestingly, Merlin’s character does experience a step away from the darkness because of Mordred as well. In Season 5, Episode 11, Merlin does not turn Mordred in for helping Kara, though he knows she was involved in the ambush of Camelot’s men. He lets Mordred get away with it because against all odds, he knows what it’s like to be in a vulnerable position and cares enough to give her a fighting chance. He even negotiates with Arthur on Kara’s behalf because he cares about Camelot too and knows that executing her would turn Mordred against Camelot and make him join forces with Morgana. It is in that episode that he learns the lesson that treating someone as an enemy causes them to be your enemy. Of course, that lesson comes too late to save Arthur, but it is a step out of the spiral Merlin was in from the beginning of season 5.

Merlin is my favorite character because he is one of the kindest, most caring characters I’ve seen in a show, but it’s that exact strength that cause him so much trouble. There is nothing better than a tragedy caused not by anger, but by a deep, all-encompassing love. His goals would have been in his reach if he cared less, but if he cared less, he wouldn’t be Merlin.

He wouldn’t be the character we all love.

[hiddentrails7]

I just finished p5r for the 7th time, here we go

Sojiro: Have you guys seen Ryuji and Futaba? They haven't finished their cocoa

Ren: No, haven’t seen them since the storm started

Sojiro: Since the sto- RYUJI NO!

Ryuji, standing in the middle of a thunderstorm with an shovel raised high: STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS, YOU DON’T HAVE THE BALLS

Ren, completely serious: Sir, it has been reported lately that you do, in fact, have little paw-paws and a little button nose. Do you care to comment?

Morgana:

Ren: Riveting

Sojiro, walking in: Am I interrupting something?

Haru: I would die for you.

Makoto: I would die for you too.

Haru, suddenly very emotional: Please don’t

Futaba, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Ren, in a deep voice, holding Ken: Nonsense, Barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Sojiro: What the fuck are you guys doing?

Futaba: Playing systemic oppression

Ren: The next time Goro's angry with me, I'll drape him in a cape and say "now you're super angry"

Ren: Maybe he'll laugh, maybe I’ll die.

Ryuji: Why are you so pissed off all the time?

Akechi: *Polls out a scroll*

Akechi: Reason number one out of two thousand four hundred and—

Ryuji: Okay, okay! I get it, there’s a lot.

Akechi: *Smirks before proceeding to roll the scroll up and put it back in his bag*

Ryuji: You just carry that thing with you everywhere?

Akechi: I get asked a lot.

Akechi: Hey, do you like shrimp?

Sojiro: Not really..?

Akechi: Ramen?

Sojiro: Not much.

Akechi: Then you're not gonna like what I did.

Sojiro: What? You made shrimp ramen?

Akechi: No. I fucked your son.

Ryuji: Just before I die, I'm going to swallow a bag of popcorn kernels to make the cremation much more interesting.

Makoto: Okay, but consider this; What if you didn't.

Kidnapper, about Ryuji: We have your friend.

Akechi: Let me speak with him

Kidnapper: Go ahead you’re on speaker

Akechi: Dumbass.

Ren: Goro and Ryuji had a fight once and it went like this:

Ryuji: Anything that comes out of your mouth is fucking stupid!

Akechi: Ryuji Sakamoto.

Ren: To this day, I still laugh out loud in inappropriate settings because I randomly think about it.

Ren: Hostage or not, sometimes it's nice being held.

Some Shadow:

Shadow: Are you okay?

Sae: WHY IS THE BUILDING ON FIRE?

Yusuke: A dragon sneezed.

Ann: I tried to light a cigar with a flame thrower.

Ryuji: Dropped my latest mix tape.

Sae: Ren, please tell me what happened.

[Flashback to Ren and Futaba arguing that it was impossible to light a fire extinguisher on fire]

Ren: Um.

Ren: I don’t remember.

Maruki: On a scale from 1-10, rate your pain.

Akechi: Pi. A minimal but a never ending number.

Maruki: What in the actual-

Ryuji coming up with a frankly terrible idea: I think we should do this.

Yusuke, who somehow got stuck being the voice of reason: No, Futaba, tell him we can't.

Futaba, who was already running the logistics the moment Ryuji opened his mouth: I think your plan is dumb as bricks, but man, do I wanna see where it goes.

Ren, who just wants to see the world burn: If it fails, we'll just blame Ryuji.

Ryuji: Yusuke's in charge, though.

Futaba: Yusuke, then.

Akechi: Ren and I don't have pet names for each other.

Ryuji: What do bees make?

Akechi: ..Honey?

Ryuji:

Ruiji: Huh, really thought that would work

Akechi: Dumbass.

Ren, from another room: yeah?

Ren: What are Ryuji and Ann arguing about this time?

Morgana: They have a bet going about what Akechi is like in bed. Ann thinks she’s secretly really caring, but Ryuji thinks he’s kinky.

Ren: Yeah, he’s both.

Morgana:

Ryuji:

Ann:

Ren:

Ren: I MEAN-

Makoto: Did you seriously bring a butter knife to the Metaverse?!

Ren: You get angry so fast, it was the only weapon I could find on such short notice!

Yusuke: But you know, you have to admit it is BUTTER than nothing.

Makoto:

Ren:

Yusuke: I'm sorry.

Ren: Is it too much to ask to just have a quiet night in? Slippers, tea, a nice movie?

The shadow he's currently got in a headlock: Oh mooooood.

Makoto: For self defense reasons, I’m gonna pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Yusuke: Okay

Akechi: Sure.

Makoto: If you want to live, give me all your money!

Yusuke: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Akechi: Bold of you to assume I want to live.

Makoto:

Makoto: Really?

Akechi: The path to inner peace begins with four words.

Akechi: NOT. MY. FUCKING. PROBLEM.

Ryuji: You've all heard of elf on the shelf, now get ready for-

Ryuji, placing a pot on Akechi's head: Thot in a pot

Akechi:

Akechi, getting up from his seat: Get ready for a bitch in a ditch because that's where you're gonna find your fucking body, you little-

Makoto: I need you to swear-

Haru: Fuck!

Makoto: Swear as in promise....

Sojiro: Why the hell are there bullet holes in Leblanc?!

Ren: There was a cockroach.

Sojiro: And...?

Futaba: It started flying towards Akechi.

Akechi: I hate you.

Ren: Well, according to this picture Yusuke painted of us having sex, that is untrue

Futaba, swinging from the chandelier: Makoto!!!! Look at me!!!!

Makoto, following Futaba in case she falls: I'm crying- I'm begging. Please, stop.

Futaba, after winning a fight in a palace: It’s like we just cleared a video game on easy.

Makoto: Real combat is NOT like a video game.

Ryuji, in the background: Hey, coins!

Sojiro, sighing tiredly: Futaba, I promise there are no monsters under your bed okay?

Futaba, scoffing: Not monster- MOBster. There is a mobster under my bed.

*Clicking is heard as gun safety is taken off*

Ryuji, pointing a model gun at Sojiro: Ya didn’t see shit.

Sojiro, exasperatedly: Ryuji you have your own house.

Morgana to Haru: Okay, now observe.

Morgana: EVERYONE, The floor is lava!

Ann: *Helps Makoto and Sumire onto the counter*

Futaba: *Pushes Ryuji off the sofa*

Morgana: As you can see, there are two types of people–

Akechi: *Collaspes onto the floor*

Morgana: ....Three-

Makoto: Sophia found out she could sneakily put post-its on people's backs without them knowing

Makoto: But she doesn't know they should say things like 'kick me', so they all just have smiley faces on them

Murderer: *Chasing Ren around Leblanc*

Ren: ALEXA! PLAY THE SCOOBY DOO THEME SONG!

Ryuji: Dude, why the hell is there blood everywhere!?

Yusuke: Well, you see, it's simple color theory-

Futaba: WHO ATE MY CURRY?

Ryuji: Don’t look at me

Futaba: INARI, WAS IT YOU?

Yusuke: *Looks at Sumire*

Sumire:

Yusuke: It was Sumire..

Sumire: YUSUKE YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN´T TELL-

Futaba: Oh, it was you, baby? Was it good? Want some more?

Ryuji: This motherf-

Ann: Would you kiss Yusuke for a million yen?

Ryuji: I guess..?

Ryuji: But, I mean, I don’t really have that kind of money..

Ren: Okay guys, meet your new teammate Hifumi. She gave me two dollars this morning for some reason, so I bought a jelly pouch with it.

Makoto, whispering: Why did you give him two dollars?

Hifumi, whispering back: I thought he was homeless

Morgana: You're losing blood. What's your type?

Ryuji, bleeding out: Blue hair, skinny, broke as fuck-

Morgana: Your blood type, Ryuji.

Ryuji: Oh-

Ryuji:

Ryuji: Red?

Ann: Aw, he's so cute.

Ren: Thanks, he's a rescue.

Akechi: Stop calling me that!

Ren: If I was a famous author, I would publish a book with ten different endings, each of which would print with varying degrees of rarity, but not tell the fans about it so that I could watch their confusion as they disagree over how the story ended. Then, when they figure it out, I would ‘come clean’, telling them that there were actually 11 different endings and watch them scramble to find the last ending.

Futaba: Are you Satan?

Ryuji: I’ll pay you $5 to do that right now.

Ryuji: Dude...

Yusuke: You had your tongue in my mouth 5 minutes ago. Don't you dare call me 'dude'.

Makoto: The game is two truths and one lie. Ren, you go first.

Ren: Okay, my hair is black, my eyes are brown, and last week my boyfriend was driving me to Chipotle and he asked if I wanted to see him drift and corner so I said yes and he drifted onto Angel street.

Makoto: Right idea Ren, but you really have to make it more challenging-

Ryuji: His eyes are black.

Makoto:

Makoto: Goro did what?!

Chihiya: May I read your tarot, sir?

Goro: A fortune teller? Very well, then.

Chihiya:

Chihiya: It just says "Yikes".

Sae: Don't be a smartass, Ren.

Ren: Dumbass it is then.

Ann: Would you rather be proposed to in private or in front of family and friends?

Ren: Private. Because when he gets off his knees, I’m getting on mine.

Akechi: *Chokes on his coffee*

Ren: I am a complex person with complex emotions, like “tired” and “food” and even the rarer third emotion, “gun”.

Makoto: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions?

Ryuji: Put spaghetti in it.

Makoto: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you.

Ren: Put spaghetti in it.

Makoto: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two.

Futaba: Put spaghetti in it.

Makoto: I am no longer taking suggestions.

Ren: *Slowly reaches for a container at a grocery store labeled Forbidden Rice*

Sojiro, smacking his hand: Can’t you read?!

Sojiro: That’s not funny.

Futaba: I thought it was funny.

Sojiro: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Tumblr.

Akechi, to the theives: And if you have any suggestions, feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

Ryuji: But— that’s a trash can.

Akechi: It sure is.

Ren: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Futaba: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

Haru: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Ann: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Yusuke: Defibrillators are heartie starties

Ryuji: Stamps are lickie stickies

Sumire: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Akechi: I hate it here.

Yusuke, at the hospital: I'm here to see my husband.

Receptionist: And your husband is...?

Yusuke: You must be new here.

Ryuji, down the hall on crutches: Yusuke! *Trips*

Yusuke: That would be the love of my life.

Haru: Every single person you know has something in their life and past that is probably worth collapsing to the ground in an uncontrollably sobbing heap over, so be nice to each other and tell good jokes!

Futaba: Sumire is my...

Ren: come on you can do it

Futaba: Sumire is my g...g...

Ren: You're so close.

Futaba: g-

Futaba: gir-.. g-

Futaba: G-GAY FRIEND

Ren, sighing: Close enough.

Yusuke: Oh, he's handsome.

Ryuji: *Blushes and trips over his own feet when they make eye contact*

Yusuke: A gorgeous loser.

Mishima, after meeting Shinya: Seven-year-olds are the meanest people in the world. They terrify me to this day.

Mishima: If I'm on the street on like, a Friday, at 3 PM and I see a group of elementary-schoolers on the side of the street, I will immediately cross to the other side of the street.

Kidnapper: We have him.

Ren: Who?

Kidnapper, about Akechi: We have your boyfriend.

Ren: Oh.

Kidnapper: "Oh"?

Ren: Yeah, you don't have him. He has you. Good luck

Makoto: You know, not every problem can be solved with a gun.

Akechi: That's why I carry two guns.

Ren, seductively taking off his glasses: Wow... You're... really blurry.

Akechi: Thanks.

Akechi: You really don’t get to choose who you love

Akechi, gesturing at Ren: I would know because I’m stuck liking this guy

Haru: What kind of woman doesn't have an axe?

Makoto: What’s something you guys are better than Akechi at?

Futaba: Mario Kart.

Ren: Cooking.

Haru: Emotional vulnerability.

Ren, trying to create a sense of calm by lighting incense, only to find out that the sticks were actually sparklers:

Ren: This is actually painfully on-brand for me.

Futaba: I wonder what butterflies taste like.

Ren: They taste bad.

Futaba: How do you know that?

Ren: I answered your question. That's all you're getting

Ryuji, trying to ask Yusuke out: Do you eat? I do. Want to do it in the same room sometime?

Ann: Elf on the shelf? How about *Pans to Yusuke in the sink* twink in the sink

[sorceress-queen]

Arthur x Morgana [ArMor]

This is actually inspired by my own writing 😂😅 and also by how much readers liked that particular piece sooo... . Which is a mood. 😉🥰

😬 This turned out a bit dark & sadistic and 😂 definitely feels like an AU piece with older ArMor. So a short summary:

Arthur finds the man who offended Morgana's honour at a different time and they deal with him together. Power couple™️. Also morbid/dark humour and a bit of torture & threats. And it turns smutty by the end 😳. So basically it has a bit of everything sprinkled in, or more like haphazardly thrown in as I let the characters in my head do whatever it is that they wanted to do. 😂 So it is a big ol' mess. But one borne out of love & fun. 💕

🐉

Morgana walks side by side with Lord Larris who offered to walk her back to her chambers; she politely declined his offer at first but his insistance & her lack of viable excuses have led to her having to accept it. She keeps her distance from him during their journey, counting down the steps in her head while he babbles on and on about some thing or another; she couldn't look more disinterested than she does.

And yet he has the audacity to try and kiss her when they reach the doors to her rooms after he mentions how much he enjoys being in her company (more like how much he enjoys his own company, given how little Morgana has contributed to their 'conversation').

She slaps him across the face after she pushes him back by his shoulders. "Leave," she hisses with a dangerous glint in her eyes as she reaches for the doorknob with one hand, while keeping her eyes on him lest he tries something again. And like the pig he is, Larris moves to press her against the door. "Fuck off," she growls and her knee very nearly collides with his crotch.

"You heard the lady." Arthur grunts as he grabs the man's collar and pulls him back, quickly examining Morgana for any harm to her person other than her hair being messed up and her dress having more creases.

"She was asking for it."

Those five words are enough to have Arthur slam the man against the opposite wall, which is a threat enough in itself but to add to that he has his sword drawn and pressed against the man's bobbing Adam's apple.

"I'd gladly take your life for that alone," he draws the man's blood with his sword; toying with the idea of running it through him. "But your tongue will do so that you may never speak to another lady like that ever again. " He puts his sword away and searches for his knife, only to find it missing.

"You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun did you?" Morgana dangles the knife as if it were a toy between her fingers and he can't help but smile at her at that.

"Of course not, my lady. I only wanted to rid him of the parts with which he has offended you." He takes her free hand in his and kisses her knuckles; almost forgetting about the squirming Lord beneath his strong grip.

"My champion," she says affectionately at his words. "If you were to rid him of all of the parts that offend me, you'd have to kill him." Morgana flicks the knife in her hand and pointedly stares at the man.

"Gladly," Arthur's response is instantenous, his hand reaching for his sword again.

"But alas his tongue will have to do." Morgana decides after some lamentation and watching the man's vain attempts to get away.

"Will you do the honours or shall I?" He asks while he grabs the man's jaw and forces his mouth open.

"I have a steadier hand than you do." She starts with a playful smile.

"Oh do you, Morgana?" He snorts.

"You know I do." She continues on. "Although, you might just make it more painful for him." She muses and taps the blade against her cheek.

"And slower." He adds and then shares a look with Morgana, loosening his grip on the man after their silent conversation, allowing him to break free.

"Do you think that taught him anything?" She asks as she slides his knife back in its place while he wraps his arms around her.

"I am not sure but I did tell the guards to not let him out of the castle after I caught a glimpse of him walking with you. I am glad I was able to reach your chambers in time." He squeezes her then and welcomes the way her body melts into his.

"You could have waited for a moment or two I was about to kick him in the loins." She chuckles as she buries her face in his neck.

"Ah, I thought I saw your knee swinging." He hums and guides her to her chambers, entering with her.

"So he'll be detained by the guards?" She asks Arthur as she sits down at her dressing table to unravel her long hair.

"Yes, he will be. And rest assured he will be dead by my hands come tomorrow evening." He makes an attempt to help her with her hair, the quicker it is done, the sooner he will have her in bed with him.

"You could just take his tongue," she leans her head back against the chair as she looks up at him. Arthur sighs and shakes his head, caressing her jawline as he leans over her. "I could, but it's too small a prize in exchange for what he could have done to you."

Morgana reaches for the hand on her jaw and kisses the palm of it finding no use in arguing with him over this, when she wishes the man dead too. "But I can still take it for you," he offers and she has to laugh at the image of Arthur on his knees in front of her with a severed tongue in his hands as a token of his affections.

"I don't have any need for his tongue, or any part of him." She giggles about it still while she takes care of her hair and Arthur watches her in contemplative silence with a smile on his face, happy that the night didn't end in a tragedy but with her laughing like that with him.

"Whose tongue do you have a need for then, my lady?" He jests as he moves to sit down on her bed, taking off his boots while she changes into one of her sleepwears behind a screen.

"Let me think." She winks at him after she has changed.

"Is that my shirt?" He quirks a brow as he pulls his mirthful Morgana into his lap. "It was your shirt." She corrects him and wraps her arms around his neck.

"I can still take it back." He playfully growls as he rolls her over on the bed; their chests pressing together as their breathing picks up with their excitement.

"Do it then." She purrs as she tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him in for a kiss that leaves him breathless. "Morgana," he lets out and dives back in sliding a hand beneath his her white shirt.

"Yes, Arthur?" She asks back; and damn her for looking so put together even with her flushed cheeks and heaving chest.

"God have mercy," is all he manages to utter out while his hand travels higher and her breathing hitches in her throat in that cute way that makes him twitch in his breeches.

"I love you too," she responds and leans up to kiss him again and wrap her legs around him, only to flip them over and be the one on top. Arthur can't bring himself to flip them back as he now has the advantage to use both of his hands on her; determined to get Morgana to let out those cute little sounds of hers that are for his ears alone.