#SO MUCH BETTER THAN I EVER COULD I AM IN AWE I'M SO HONOURED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinsnip · 16 days ago

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Ok, so bmouse says WIPs should be finished in honour of Garashir on Lower Decks, and I agree.

I'm writing again! It's nice but also work! If you like my Garashir, you might like what's below the read-more. Spoilers for "The Smallest Things" and this is a rough draft.

Dear Ezri,

I hardly know where to start.

I suppose I could start a week ago, when I moved into Garak’s home in Kardasi’or, but that seems to gloss over a few details.

Perhaps instead I’ll go back to two weeks ago when I arrived here on Cardassia and immediately got arrested for harassment of a senior official & resisting arrest. Really, it was immediately. About two hours elapsed from Cardassian soil to Cardassian jail. This is where you can pretend to be surprised, by the way. I was surprised: two hours is a new record for me.

Garak’s just passed by and has asked that I put in a hello, and has also charmingly added that given that it was me, he would have expected the arrest in closer to one hour. Ho ho. He hasn’t changed.

Actually, he has changed. But I don’t know what to say about that yet.

I’ve only been here in person for two weeks, and we’ve seen each other surprisingly little over that period. It turns out that being a person of seemingly some importance in the local government eats up a great deal of his time. He doesn’t sleep much.

But he does make time to cook dinner for us - actually cook! (He won’t let me, as I’m awful at it, which I agree with wholeheartedly.) We have a very small replicator, honestly quite the step down from even the worst standard repli on DS9 - but it can spit out a reasonable variety of ingredients I don’t recognize, and even a sort of facsimile of a tomato, which Garak managed to turn into something surprisingly close to a nice spicy arrabiatta. That was a treat (once I managed to forget that the pasta was some kind of fungus). And I’m getting used to a mostly-strict standard Cardassian breakfast and lunch regimen, as Garak’s not around when I wake up (or for most of the day), and the replicator’s pre-made selection is minimal. And bland. Fish soup is prevalent. Lots of little dry cakes. Not all awful, though - have you ever heard of ikri buns?

I keep putting this letter down and picking it up again. It’s so hard to put how I’m feeling into words.

I’m happy. I’m so happy. I can’t express it. I’m warm through with it. But I know myself, I know that’s new love. (It’s love! He loves me, Ezri! And I love him, God help me. I’m so in love.) And I know new love fades, and I know things get in the way of love, and I know I don’t see him much, and here I am on a planet that doesn’t like me much - a criminal record after two hours, remember - and also I stand out, and it’s not good for him to have a partner that stands out for a variety of reasons, especially a sort of quasi-Starfleet Human physician - not so much not good for him as not good for his position, which is him. You know it. You know him, and how he feels about Cardassia. You know what it means for him to choose me, despite what it could do to his possible influence here.

You knew better than I did.

And yet here I am in his house, and I’m very happy, and I’m also afraid.

I thought about crossing out that last bit, or at least rewording it, but it’s true. And anyway, I don’t need to watch my words with you, do I? I think you’re the only person I know who could understand what I’m getting at. Miles barely knows about any of this - he’ll be flattened when I next write to him and casually drop my new location (and the letter back will burn off my eyebrows). And Rijal doesn’t like Garak, and is also quite upset with me for leaving—

I’m on indefinite leave, by the way. I’ve taken leave from Starfleet Medical (hence the ‘quasi’ above). I can apply for re-entry at any time within the next two years, the form letter assures me, as I’ve not been discharged or formally resigned my commission. My former duty spot is, of course, not guaranteed, but they promise they’ll make every effort to accommodate my preferences. Once two years are up, it gets a bit more complicated. Manageable, but complicated.

So here I am, not responsible to anyone and far from what was home, without much of anyone to talk to except Garak. And I find I can’t really talk to him about this.

Ezri, I am terrified.

Everything has changed for me. I still can’t believe how this started out with something so small, with a letter and with you leaving (and I still miss you, by the way, and hope you’re well and happy, forgive my parentheses as I’m a bit all over the place). And then things got extremely complicated. A year ago I could never have predicted how things would change, how my life would suddenly seem to shrink to something so small, and then be so weirdly… expanded.

I think I have some idea how you felt when you were joined with Dax. If that’s not too presumptuous, which it probably is, but… I could never have imagined myself doing this, a year ago. I thought I could see my life rolling out comfortably in front of me.

And now this.

I’ve leapt before I looked, as you wisely knew I would. And I told myself I’d sort things out when I landed. But instead I seem to still be falling, with no idea where or when I’m going to land. And you told me so.

But, and please forgive my tortured metaphor, he’s here with me, and we’re falling together, and I know I’m being sappily romantic and this probably won’t end well, and I know I’m scared and he’s scared too even though he’d never admit it, and I also know that I am damned well going to try.

Cardassia can take all the shots it wants at me. I’m ready. Bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway, right? (Garak is now reading over my shoulder, and he says that no, that is not bravery, that is stupidity. He’s also put his arms around me, so I suppose my stupidity is either expected or forgiven.) I hope I can find a way to practice medicine here, but if that’s not what’s needed of me right now, then all right, I’ll adapt. Right now Garak says our best bet for this to all work out, politically and for the two of us, is for me look harmless and ornamental and not at all dangerous (I will never forgive you for the way you’re grinning). So I’m staying at home, and I’m reading, and I’m learning. When I go out I’m on his arm. I’ve done two public appearances at local reading-groups, and I’ve been a guest on a talk show, which has already invited me back. I’ve been told my looks are exotic and my smile is charming and I’m honestly one of the nicest Humans they’ve ever met, if one doesn’t mind the smell and the way we shed.

So I suppose in addition to giddily happy and stomach-churningly frightened, I’m also getting irritated.

This isn’t going to be easy, Ezri. Thank you for warning me. Thank you for telling me to be careful. And thank you for supporting me when you realized I was going to do whatever I wanted, no matter the consequences.

Perhaps in a year, when things settle down a bit, you could come visit? I could take you to see the Alik Dunes, not far from Kardasi’or. It’s a walkable distance from the furthest train stop, actually. They’re the site of the first successful regreening project in this area after the Fire. There’s a little tea shop, and an area where one can walk barefoot. The plants feel very good on one’s soles. Garak and I go there sometimes, and almost no one takes pictures. I think you’d like it.

I miss you. I hope you’re well. I hope you’re having grand adventures. I hope you can lend me a little courage as I start out on this one.

Best wishes, and all my love,

Julian Bashir

#myfic #garashir #the smallest things

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the-pen-pot · 3 months ago

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She was hardly the first potential bride who had arrived at Camelot: chattel on her father's arm to try and tempt the prince – but Merlin had a horrible feeling she might be the last. Uther and the woman's father were deep into negotiations, and as for Arthur...

He did his duty, as was expected of him.

Merlin hated it, and it was Gaius who bore the brunt of his grumbling complaints.

'Lord Arnell has huge stretches of land to the west which would extend Camelot's border by miles. Their wealth would be added to the citadel's coffers. It is a good match.'

'For Camelot, maybe! Not for anyone else. She nearly brought Gwen to tears yesterday. I thought Morgana was going to stab her with a fork. She sneers at the servants whenever she thinks Arthur's not looking. I'm sure I saw her try and kick one of the barn cats. She's awful. If she ends up queen, everyone will leave just to escape her.'

Gaius looked at him over their dinner, his gaze dropping to where Merlin worried the bread to nothing but crumbs beneath his anxious fingers.

'Even you?' That snowy eyebrow lifted as Merlin swallowed hard, trying to imagine it: putting the castle to his back, turning away from destiny...

Leaving Arthur.

'No.' The word escaped him, cracked and brittle and aching. 'No, I suppose not.'

'Fear not, my boy. There are many pitfalls between negotiations and an actual wedding day. Perhaps there'll be no need for your jealousy.'

'My what? I am not jealous!'

Gaius merely smiled at him and returned to his stew. 'Of course not. Now eat your vegetables.'

******

'I've never been so tempted to push someone down a well,' Gwen confessed as they made up the guest beds, switching old sheets for new ones fresh from the laundry. Her lips pursed, and there was a sharpness to her gaze that Merlin knew to heed. Of all of them, Gwen was the first to offer strangers a kindness, but it seemed even her good nature had found its end. 'Lady Felicity. There's nothing felicitous about her!'

He hummed in agreement, stifling a yawn. He'd been awake all night, staring at the cracks in his bedroom ceiling and losing himself in the twist of his thoughts.

He hated it when Gaius was right.

He was jealous, and not just because Lady Felicity's presence meant that he and Arthur couldn't squabble and banter as they always did. He missed far more than that, like how Arthur would pinch the cuff of his tunic or knock their shoulders together, ruffle his hair or smile at him in that way that made Merlin's heart surge in his chest. He missed the evenings they shared in front of the fire, now lost to feasts in their guests' honour. It would not be better once they were wed, either. Then, day's end would be their time as husband and wife, getting on with the necessary business of heirs.

Merlin's stomach gave a threatening roll, and he cursed himself for letting it come to this. Only he could fall in love with someone so slowly he failed to notice until it was staring him in the face. Only he could lose his heart to a person who could never, ever return his feelings.

Perhaps he could convince himself that Arthur could love him, but he could not believe that the son of Uther Pendragon could love a sorcerer. Arthur knew his secret; he had done for months now. At first, it had been dreadful, all cold looks and bitter recriminations. Merlin had told himself he should be grateful Arthur hadn't chopped his head off and that asking for anything more was expecting too much.

Yet as time went on, they'd managed to work their way back towards friendship. More than that? It seemed impossible. He'd seen how Arthur looked at him sometimes: all creased brows and ill-hidden dread – as if Merlin were some great monster, tame for now, but still deadly.

'Merlin? Are you all right?'

He twitched, surprised to find Gwen at his side. He had not noticed her walk around the bed. Now she watched him with big brown eyes which, he suspected, saw far more than he wanted to give away.

'I'm fine,' he lied, and wished he could make it true.

******

So it went on for weeks, the negotiations, the polite, distant efforts at wooing... Merlin trying to bury his feelings so deep down in himself that he forgot they existed at all. Not that it worked.

The others were worried. He declined trips to the tavern with the knights, too listless to muster a decent excuse. Any smiles he managed to summon felt wobbly on his lips. He picked at his food, so much so that the creases on Gaius' face had deepened dramatically. He attempted to put everyone's mind at rest, but it was almost impossible to speak around the ache that had taken root within his chest.

He kept trying to pull himself together. Sometimes he'd manage it for an afternoon, but come nightfall, it all rolled over him once more, leaving him hollow. He tried to tell himself that it was hopeless. Even if all this with Lady Felicity came to naught, there would be another. One day, a queen would sit at Arthur's side, and Merlin would have to learn to accept his lot in life. Friendship would be enough; he just needed more time to make himself believe it.

'Do not tell me you like her!'

Merlin stopped at the end of the corridor to the Royal Wing, raising an eyebrow at Morgana's command. She jabbed a finger in Arthur's direction as if she longed to poke his eye out, the two of them facing off in the hallway. Arthur was a vision of studied indifference, but even he had the sense to sway out of range of her fingernails.

'My opinion matters little.'

'Why are you doing this? You've never had a problem dodging suitors before.' Morgana lifted her chin, all bristling challenge. 'Why are you taking this woman seriously when I know someone else has lain claim to your heart?'

Merlin didn't think the ache could get any worse, but with those words, it intensified a hundred-fold. His mind raced, trying to figure out who had caught Arthur's eye. Perhaps he didn't know him as well as he had believed, if he had been pining for someone and Merlin remained oblivious.

'Morgana...' He watched as Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders rounded and his back bowed. He looked like a man defeated: one without hope. 'I am not discussing this with you.'

She shook her head and turned away, stopping in surprise when she saw Merlin hovering uncertainly near the top if the stairs. Something sly crossed her face, there and gone again, before she called over her shoulder, 'Fine. Perhaps you'd rather discuss it with Merlin, then.'

Arthur jolted as if he'd been shot with a crossbow bolt, his eyes widening as Merlin offered Morgana a shallow bow. By the time he looked up again, Arthur had reined in his expression, stuffing that sliver of alarm behind a mask of smug arrogance.

'Eavesdropping, Merlin?' he demanded.

'Didn't really have to. It's not like Morgana was making an effort to be quiet.' To his relief, he sounded almost normal. 'I thought I had better get you ready for this feast.'

Arthur sighed, deflating miserably at the prospect before inclining his head and turning towards his chamber door. 'How much of that did you hear?' He gestured along the corridor after Morgana's departed figure.

A good servant would probably have claimed ignorance, but he had never bothered with etiquette and he wasn't about to start now. 'Do you like her?' he asked, letting his question stand in as an answer.

Arthur made sure the door was shut behind them before responding, 'Does anyone? She is rude, entitled and has very little to recommend her except the lands and wealth she would bring to the marriage. I thought her hostility might be down to her attempting to rebel against her father, but it does not seem that she had the wits for it. The only thing going for her are her looks, and they will not last forever.'

'Nor will yours.'

'At least I have a brain to compensate.'

'Do you? Where are you keeping it, under the bed?' He laughed as he dodged Arthur's half-hearted swipe in his direction, his heart lifting from the hollow in his chest. For one, brief moment, he thought it might be all right – maybe he would survive this after all. Then the rest of Morgana's words came back to him, and he felt how his own expression wobbled on his face.

Hastily, he turned towards the wardrobe, retrieving Arthur's finery from its clutches. He'd had the good sense to check it that morning, making sure there were no stains or tears that needed his attention. Now, the velvet whispered its accusations against his fingertips.

He heard the splash of water in the basin as Arthur washed his face and hands. It was a comforting, normal noise, and Merlin busied himself arranging suitable garments atop the changing screen. He would be better off holding his silence, for once, but he'd never had much luck with that. A demand hovered on the tip of his tongue, something that urged him to ask who it was that Arthur loved, but he choked it back.

'Morgana's right.'

'Never say that to me again,' Arthur retorted, his voice flat as he poked his head around the screen to glare in Merlin's direction. Yet even as he spoke, his expression slipped into grudging agreement. 'Lady Felicity is a good match, as far as such things go. She would bring a lot to Camelot.'

'And make everyone miserable in the process. A queen should be loved, shouldn't she? Or at least respected by her people and her king. No one is going to even try and like her when it's obvious you feel nothing for her…' He trailed off, swallowing hard. 'You shouldn't do this just because it's what your father wants.' He ducked around the changing screen, reaching out to help Arthur into a fine white tunic. It clung to his shoulders and skimmed his hips, strikingly pale in contrast to the luxurious dark trousers that clad his legs. 'Especially not if your feelings lie elsewhere.'

It felt like a stupid, daring thing to say, sending a shiver of unease rushing down Merlin's thighs. A part of him wanted to run away. The Lady Felicity was bad enough, but at least he had the consolation that Arthur seemed to hate her as much as everyone else. Now there was this other person, unseen and unknown but important to Arthur all the same.

He concentrated on tying the tunic's laces, watching the gold-encased tips of the string as if mastering a knot was the most challenging task in the world. He worried that if he looked up, Arthur would see every emotion written across his face, and it would be the last wedge between them to drive them apart for good.

'I wish it were that simple.' Arthur's fingers on the back of Merlin's hands brought a halt to his fretting with the laces before he could tangle them irretrievably.

He frowned at that, tilting his head as he tried to puzzle through those words. What did that mean? Arthur spoke as if there was more standing in his way than a potential marriage to Lady Felicity. Was the one he loved somehow unsuitable?

'You've never shied from a challenge before,' he managed at last, retreating to let Arthur tuck his tunic into his waistband even as he reached for the jacket. It was a bold, dark burgundy, almost black in certain lights. It made him look both resplendent and dangerous, not that Lady Felicity would appreciate it.

'I should be putting the needs of my kingdom before my own desires. That is what a good prince does.' He sounded as if it were a mantra he'd repeated often over these past few weeks, and Merlin finally found the courage to shoot him a scathing look.

'No, a good prince realises that what he feels, his kingdom will feel. If you are unhappy with your wife, Camelot will be worse for it. Whoever rules at your side one day should support you, not seek every opportunity to make your life miserable.' He pulled the jacket onto Arthur's shoulders, checking that it lay smooth across his back, the skim of his hand steady and sure. He tried to tell himself that it was part of his job, but Merlin couldn't help but enjoy the fleeting, guilty touch.

With a sharp inhale, he retreated, reaching desperately for something to say: a way to remind his own, stupid heart that this was an impossible situation. 'I could turn her into a frog if it would make things easier?'

'Don't you dare.' Not even a trace of mirth gathered in Arthur's face, and Merlin winced as he gripped his wrist, tight and desperate. 'No magic, Merlin. Promise me.'

'I – yes, Sire.' He swallowed hard, pulling his arm free and stepping back, pretending to ignore the familiar look of dread and horror on Arthur's features. He appeared as if the very idea repulsed him, no matter how much Felicity deserved it.

He had only meant it as a joke, but clearly Arthur didn't see the humour.

'We should go. The feast...'

Arthur led and Merlin followed, trying to ignore the heavy, bitter ache of his own heart.

******

Lady Felicity and her father left Camelot three days later, much to everyone's collective relief. Merlin watched them depart from Arthur's chamber window, his shoulder propped against the castle's stonework as their horses carried them out of sight. Rumour was rife, but no one had any real answers. All anyone knew was that the King's enthusiasm had noticeably cooled and that any talks had fallen apart not long after.

He should be relieved. Instead, he could only think about Arthur and the mysterious person who had won his heart, whoever they may be. Someone who made matters "not that simple", apparently. That could mean anything, but when Arthur wanted something, he usually went after it without hesitation and damned the consequences. The fact that he hesitated now...

Merlin sighed and shook his head, resuming his chores in his usual, haphazard way. It was no good dwelling on it. He'd been content, once, with the promise of Arthur's friendship, and he could be again. He could look on, benevolent and happy, as Arthur loved someone else. In the end what other choice was there? He'd already decided he could never leave, not even if Lady Felicity had been the one Arthur wed. He just needed time, that was all: space to pack away all his feelings once more and remember life before he'd looked them full in the face.

The creak of the door made him look up to see Arthur step over the threshold, already unbuttoning his jacket so he could cast it aside. The warm fire chased off the chill of a blustery day, and Arthur moved to stand near it, stretching his hands out towards the flames. He had been down on the castle steps to bid their guests farewell, bestowing upon them all the grace of Camelot hospitality. Now, that handsome face seemed relaxed and soft: relieved.

He could hold his tongue, Merlin knew that. He could enjoy the peace while it lasted, but he'd never been good at following his own better judgement. Instead, he painted a tone of studied indifference over his words as he asked, 'So, will you pursue them, then? Whoever it is who has caught your eye?'

'Merlin...'

'Now that Lady Felicity is no longer a problem and you're not torturing yourself with the idea of duty.'

'Merlin!' Arthur sighed, pressing his fingertips to his brow as if fighting off the sudden bloom of a headache. 'I've told you before: it's not that –'

'"Simple". What does that even mean? Is it just that your father wouldn't approve? He doesn't need to know. He hasn't, in the past.' Arthur did not indulge in dalliances often, but when he did, with ladies or the occasional, visiting knight, discretion was always his primary concern.

The noise that escaped Arthur was a ragged, mirthless scoff. 'To say my father would disapprove is an understatement, and it's not just that. What could I offer them? A secret relationship? One that we would have to hide from a gossiping court? One where I could not make any promises, not until the throne was mine and even then...?' Arthur trailed off. 'No. I – no. I respect them too much to ask that of them.'

Merlin pursed his lips, frowning into the depths of the wardrobe as he hung up the clean washing. He could say nothing, agree with Arthur's assessment and leave it at that. Maybe if he liked Arthur just a little less, he would, but he hated seeing him like this: grim and pale as he faced down what he believed to be the impossible. Besides, that wasn't Arthur talking about a quick tumble. That was him considering the future: someone else in the place that Lady Felicity had coveted.

He was thinking of forever, or at least the hope of it, and deciding it was something he could not have.

'Isn't it up to them, as well as you?' He fiddled with the seam of the tunic in his hands. 'You don't know the lengths someone will go to for you unless you ask. If they cared for you, I think they would understand.' If they didn't then they weren't worth his time, Merlin thought uncharitably. 'They should at least get the chance to make the choice, shouldn't they?'

His words appeared to be the wrong thing to say. Arthur's pallor only intensified. He turned away from the fire, moving towards the window. 'That would involve informing them how I feel, and – I –' He stuttered to a halt, which was unusual enough, and Merlin's heart wrenched miserably.

He had never seen Arthur like this. Clearly, whoever he was enamoured with was more than just a passing fancy. He had hoped that maybe Morgana had been mistaken about the depths of Arthur's sentiment, but she obviously knew what she was talking about. She had seen something that Merlin himself had overlooked, and he felt even more a fool.

'I do not think that they love me in turn. I'm not sure that they ever could, and any confession may well push them away from me forever.' He shook his head, his hands clenching into fists where they hung at his side. 'No, it's better this way. Perhap once I take the throne – once I have the power to prove to them the kind of man I am... But not before.'

With a soft sigh, Merlin set aside the washing and drifted across the room. If Arthur did not appear so genuinely broken up about this, he would let it slide, but he could not. He'd been the occasional voice of reason for far too long. He was not about to stop, even if it broke his heart to advocate for another when he wished he could claim Arthur's love for himself.

'That could be years, and if they are unaware of what you offer, they will not know to wait for you. They could find someone else, or leave the citadel. Something could happen to them...' Merlin flinched, because now Arthur looked positively sick.

'Stop.'

The plea was quiet but heartfelt, and Merlin claimed his silence anew, at a loss for how to make any of this better. It didn't help that his own feelings had become a churning mess, aching and grieving, envious and pained. He wanted to hate this nameless, faceless beneficiary of Arthur's admiration and respect, but he could not muster the energy for spite. Instead, he merely felt stupid and defeated, because he had thought he'd known Arthur better than anyone and it turned out he was completely clueless.

'Will you at least tell me who it is?'

Arthur looked up at him, his lips pink and parted as something unknowable shadowed his gaze. For a moment, Merlin hoped perhaps he had made some sort of breakthrough – that Arthur would confide in him again, as he had done before the secret of his magic came spilling out. Yet the brief flutter of his hope was short-lived. A jerk of his head snuffed it out, and Arthur's reply closed the door on the conversation.

'Just leave it, Merlin. It doesn't matter now.'

******

He couldn't leave it. Arthur's words were like a scab in his mind. He kept picking at them, turning them this way and that to try and find a place where they all fell apart and started to make sense. Perhaps, if Arthur had reclaimed his usual prattishness, he would have managed to set it to one side, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that something weighty trouble Camelot's prince.

The stormy anger of autumn bled into the solemn chill of winter. Ice frosted the windowpanes and grim sleet made the world an inhospitable place. It drove the knights from the training ground, and they conducted their drills in the great hall instead, their swords chiming like clarion bells. Arthur, in particular, threw himself into the activity as if he were doing battle with his inner demons each time. The knights met him, men of equal in force and fervour, letting him expend his energy upon them until they were bruised and aching from the effort.

'Fix him?' Gwaine begged, his hand heavy on Merlin's shoulder. He gave him a gentle shake, his eyes huge and imploring. 'Before he breaks us?'

Merlin managed a faint snort at that, shaking his head in disbelief. He was propped against the wall, trying to ignore how the cold seeped through the stone and made its nests in his bones. He felt no warmer than something found in a crypt: entombed and wretched. Even Gwaine's usual dramatics didn't do much to raise a smile, and it did not pass beneath his friend's notice.

'Maybe you can fix yourself while you're at it. You've not had a fight, have you? The pair of you?'

'No, nothing like that.'

Gwaine grunted, casting Arthur a narrow-eyed glare across the room. Not that he noticed. He was too busy battling Percival, harrying the larger man with the silver sweep and spark of his blade. 'He's been out of sorts for weeks, and you've not been much better.' He slung an arm around Merlin's shoulder, giving him a quick shake before curling him into a clumsy embrace that smelled of sweat and chainmail.

'Gwaine!' Arthur's command was more a snarling snap than anything else, all clenched jaw and bared teeth. 'I don't recall giving you leave to stop training.'

Gwaine sighed, casting Merlin a look and lifting one eyebrow meaningfully. 'See what I mean? He'll be the death of me.'

Merlin managed a little twist of a grin, shoving him playfully back towards where the knights worked in their pairs. Gwaine had only been joking, but it wasn't like Merlin had failed to notice how hard Arthur pushed himself these days. Even now, his efforts only seemed to redouble as if something drove him ever onwards, chasing at his heels and offering him no peace or rest.

That would not do. What had happened with Lady Felicity had clearly been a catalyst, taking Arthur's equanimity and stirring it into something he struggled against, day and night. Merlin had done as he asked and held his silence for several weeks, but it only seemed to make matters worse.

He had been selfish, Merlin thought grimly. Arthur's insistence that he dropped the matter of whoever had won his heart had come as a relief. It let him live in this frozen moment, one where his desperate hopes had not been crushed brutally underfoot. It was nothing more than a fantasy, and it did neither of them any good. Arthur could not carry on as he was, and Merlin? He could not keep fooling himself that his own feelings ever stood a chance of being requited.

With a sigh, he tipped his head back against the wall, staring up at the distant rafters as he resolved to set his own heart aside. It was what he should have done, right at the start. Now?

Now he had to hope it was not too late to make Arthur see sense.

******

The fire crackled in the hearth in Arthur's room, adding its glow to the candlelight. A thick, winter's night had settled beyond the windowpanes, and the wind howled around the turrets, making its voice heard. The wreckage of dinner lay upon the table, and Arthur sat in the fur-shrouded chair in front of the hearth, a cup of wine dangling from his hand and his gaze fixed on the flames in the grate.

Merlin busied himself with his usual chores, trying to find the words to broach the subject. He stacked dishes and left them outside the door, promising himself that he would take them down to the kitchen later. Tidying Arthur's desk, he skimmed the documents on its surface, but they offered him little in the way of inspiration. In the end, before he could decide on an angle of attack, Arthur shifted in his seat, stirring himself from his thoughts and asking a question of his own.

'Is it Gwaine?'

'Is – what?' Merlin blinked. He'd frozen like a deer in the hunter's sights, unsettled by the shadows that gathered in Arthur's eyes and grappling to understand the thread of the conversation.

'You've been miserable for weeks. Normally, I can't make you shut up, but these days you barely string two words together. You don't laugh, either. You don't wake me up with ridiculous, trite, chirpy nonsense.' Arthur pursed his lips tight, jerking his head to the side as if to dismiss his own little tirade. 'Guinevere thinks you're heartsick. Is it for Gwaine?'

Merlin blinked. He had not realised that his own behaviour had been so obvious or that Arthur could be so observant. Gwen was no surprise; she could read people with ease. Of course, she'd taken one look at him and decided he was pining. He hated that she was right. The fact that she'd discussed it with Arthur? He did not know what to do with that information.

'Gwaine's a friend. A good one.' He felt like he was fishing the words out of himself, dredging them up for Arthur's approval. 'He flirts with everyone. You know that.'

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't the tight, anxious way Arthur pursed his lips or the frown that puckered his brow: something twitching and wretched that he quickly tried to hide behind an impassive mask. 'But you are heartsick?'

It was unlike Arthur to talk about emotions. He normally avoided sentiment, couching any affection in horseplay and banter. He was certainly not the type to bother with a heart-to-heart. Yet here he was, making an effort for Merlin's sake because despite everything – his arrogance and his pride – Arthur was a good man. A good friend.

Why couldn't that be enough?

'It doesn't matter,' Merlin managed, clearing his throat and shaking his head. 'I'll survive, which is more than I can say for the knights if you keep thrashing them in training. Elyan's not walked right all week after what you did to his knee, and Leon's started to flinch every time you pick up a sword.' He hesitated, moving around the front of Arthur's desk before leaning back against it, curling his fingers over its edge.

'They are warriors,' Arthur pointed out. 'They can take it.'

'But maybe they shouldn't have to? You've been like it ever since Lady Felicity left. Since I assume you're not pining for her –?' He smirked when Arthur shot him a dark look. 'Then I guess it's over whoever Morgana was talking about.'

'Merlin... Please.'

That was what did it. Not his name, spoken in such a low defeated tone, but the "please" that followed. That, more than anything, told Merlin that he could not leave it alone, no matter how much Arthur begged for his silence. He'd already surrendered once and look at the result: Arthur lost and hurting, punishing his knights even as he punished himself for wanting someone so fiercely and, in his head at least, so helplessly.

'What if they said yes?'

'What?'

'The person, whoever it is. What if you're wrong? What if you miss out on a relationship with them just because you were too afraid to speak up?'

'Are you calling me a coward?' Arthur demanded, incredulous. His empty goblet hung from his fingertips, tilting in a mimicry of his disbelief.

'Would that work?'

'No!'

Arthur sighed, setting the cup down and rising to his feet. He turned his back to Merlin, bracing his arm on the chimney breast. For a long time, there was a prickling, brooding sort of silence, and when he spoke, it was directed at the hearthstone like a confession. 'I would fight for them. If they said that they felt the same way, I would upend all of Camelot to make them happy. I would weather any storm, but...' He trailed off with a shake of his head.

'But you're afraid to ask them, because you think they'll say no.'

'I'm not afraid,' Arthur retorted, glancing over his shoulder. 'Not for myself, anyway.' He looked Merlin up and down, something sharp honing his gaze. 'All this advice you offer me, but you don't take it for yourself? What's stopping you from pursuing the one you want?'

It was a pathetic attempt at deflection. Merlin wasn't even going to credit it with an answer. 'This isn't about me.'

Arthur turned back to the fire, and his next words were nothing more than a whisper, so quiet that Merlin almost believed he imagined them.

'Yes, it is.'

He froze, his hands tightening reflexively around the edge of the desk. The polished wood offered him no splinters, which was a small blessing. He was not sure he would notice the pain if it had. His mind was too busy racing, shaking off its frantic, fruitless whirl of self-pity and plunging forward into the bright light of desperate, breathless hope.

Perhaps he was never meant to hear those three words, spoken as softly as a confession could be. Maybe they had simply slipped out of Arthur, impossible to suppress, but now that they had been uttered, Merlin could not let them pass unnoticed.

'What does that mean?' He swallowed, pushing himself away from the desk and taking one shaky step forwards. A thousand questions tangled in his throat like a briar, and his next breath was an unsteady shudder in his chest, torn between elation and the soul-deep fear that he'd heard him wrong or somehow misunderstood.

He did not think he had ever seen Arthur look so pale, the colour seeping from his face as he realised his murmur had reached Merlin's ears. He glanced towards the door as if, for the first time in his life, he was contemplating running. Yet it seemed he mastered the urge. Instead, he lifted his chin, folding his arms across his chest.

'Nothing. It doesn't matter,' he rasped, tearing his eyes away as Merlin took another step closer. 'Forget I said anything.'

Merlin managed a slow shake of his head. He kept remembering what Arthur had said back when Lady Felicity made her departure, going over those words again and again, but now it was as if he heard them for the first time. Arthur had not merely mentioned that he feared that they did not feel the same way; he spoke as if it was an impossibility – almost unthinkable. He talked of taking the throne, of having the power to make change, and now Merlin couldn't think of anything else.

'No.'

He had told Arthur, when Lady Felicity put Camelot to her back, that he should confess his love for whoever it was who had stolen his heart, regardless of his doubts or the troubles they may face. He'd given that advice to Arthur as his own chest ached and squeezed, but he'd not thought to take heed of it himself. He had written it off as impossible because he'd believed that Arthur loved another.

But what if he had been talking about Merlin all along? What if they'd both been stupidly pining away, craving each other and never realising that everything they wanted was within arm's reach?

And all either of them had to do was ask for it.

'Arthur... Why do you think they couldn't love you?' He swallowed hard, snatching in a sharp, startled gasp before forcing himself to press on, terrified that he had misunderstood but so very desperate to believe he'd got it right. 'Why do you think I couldn't love you?'

It was as if someone had cut Arthur off at the knees. He visibly sagged, reaching out to steady himself. Every last scrap of his mask fell away, revealing the turmoil beneath: the ebb of his choking despair and the rising tide of his wretched hope. He looked at Merlin as if he could barely believe what he had said. His response was a long time coming, and when it did, it was a wreck of misery.

'Because you have magic, and I stood by as my father slaughtered people like you. I helped. You were so convinced that I would send you to the headsman that you hid what you were from me for years – and I cannot blame you. If our positions were reversed, I don't think I would have done anything differently.' He bowed his head, speaking to the flagstones beneath his feet. 'I consider myself deeply fortunate that you're forgiving enough to call me a friend. To think you ever might feel anything stronger...' He pursed his lips, cutting himself off.

'You prat,' Merlin breathed, trying not to shake. He felt like he'd been holding back this great, heaving tide of emotion, and now the dam had broken. Except rather than leaving devastation in its wake, the rising waters restored everything to life. A world that had turned drab and dreary filled with colour once more, and his next gasp of air felt as if it might actually sustain him. 'What about me? How do you think I felt, looking at you and knowing that you couldn't possibly love someone you've been taught to despise?'

Arthur was already shaking his head, jolting forward to reach out. His fingers plucked at Merlin's sleeves and hooked over his shoulders, cradling him as if he were something precious. 'No. No, that's – I don't hate anything about you.'

'You look sick every time I mention my magic.' That was the thorn that still struck him to the quick: the one niggling doubt that would not give him a moment's peace.

'No.' Arthur crowded closer, hesitantly reaching up to cup Merlin's jaw. 'No, that's not why. It's not because of what you can do, but because of what would happen to you if you were ever discovered. It's not safe. It won't be, not until my father's reign has reached its end. I thought that, once I was king, I could prove to you that those times are over. I could make Camelot safe for you again: your home, truly.'

'It already is my home,' Merlin managed, though he could barely hear his own voice over the thud of his pulse in his ears. He had assumed that getting Arthur to return magic once the crown was on his brow would be the work of years. He had been prepared to spend time and allow compromise – to show him, piece by piece, how magic was integral to the world, both the good and the bad. Instead, Arthur stood before him, promising him everything.

'How can you think that, when every moment your life is at risk simply because you exist?' Arthur's fingers flexed against Merlin's cheek as if he were savouring the feel of his skin and heat even as he considered pulling away.

'Because it's where everyone I care about lives. My friends, Gaius and you. It's more "home" than I've ever known, Arthur, because of the people who share it with me.'

He tangled his fingers in Arthur's tunic, twisting the fabric so that he could not make his retreat. He could see it in his eyes, that accursed nobility that suggested he would try and turn his back on this for Merlin's own good. He wasn't about to let Arthur destroy this before it had begun in the name of Merlin's safety.

'Don't get me wrong,' he managed. 'You absolutely should allow magic's return when you take the throne, but don't do it for me. Do it for your kingdom, and for yourself, and for everyone else who suffers its loss.'

A frail smile curled Arthur's lips, and the look he gave Merlin was both fond and a touch baffled, as if he couldn't understand how Merlin's mind worked, sometimes. Yet it faded a moment later, dimming even as the silence between them grew.

'When I found out about your magic, I knew I should have been furious. I was, on the surface at least, but underneath that? I've never been so scared. Not of your power, but of the very thought that I might lose you.' Arthur's voice was little more than a strangled whisper spilling from his lips. 'That my father might catch you, or that you would choose one day to walk away and live the life you deserved… That you looked at me and saw nothing more than an enemy.'

'Arthur…' Merlin swallowed, trying to think, trying to breathe – trying to find the right thing to say that would make Arthur see how wrong he was. They hovered on the cusp of something, and maybe it would not be easy. Perhaps they would have to fight for it every step of the way, but a life at Arthur's side and in his arms would be more than worth it.

'I love you, you idiot.' It escaped him in a rush, and he rushed on before Arthur could do more than blink at him. 'It's you I'm heartsick over, because first there was Felicity and then someone else – someone I didn't know and you'd never mentioned, and I hated it. Hated them, because I would rather see you happy even if it meant I never got to have you and –'

Arthur's fingers brushed against his lips, soft and hypnotised, stemming the spill of his words and beckoning him back to silence. His touch felt like a brand, and delicate tremors raced through Merlin's body as if Arthur were stirring him to life.

'You love me?'

Merlin's heart shivered with joy. He could hear Arthur's disbelieving hope, as if he had thought the world was fixed and certain, only to find some new facet within it, shocking and vivid.

He suspected that Arthur's upbringing had been harsh and devoid of affection – that he had been taught that sentiment was a sign of weakness. And yet in this, just like the magic, Arthur was struggling to overcome what he had learned at his father's knee. He was fighting to be the good man Merlin believed him to be and the best king that Camelot would ever have upon its throne.

He leaned forward, pressing their brows together so that Arthur could see the truth of his response in his gaze. His answer was a whisper brushed against Arthur's lips: tremulous and fragile but growing with strength at every moment.

'I do.'

Arthur's sandy lashes fluttered as if he were absorbing Merlin's confession, folding it away next to his heart. It was like watching him come back to life – a wound healed – and golden wings of elation rushed through Merlin's frame as Arthur's response whispered against his lips: a beautiful benediction.

'I love you too.'

The kiss was soft and thrilling, shy and daring in equal measure. It felt like both the start and end of something, and Merlin was happy to take that step. He'd spent so long thinking that Arthur would be lost to him. To realise that, instead, Arthur's heart had been his all along?

It was almost too good to be true.

And there, in Arthur's warm chambers, the love that had been flourishing between them took firm root. Nothing would tear it asunder, nor shake the foundations of the kingdom that they would build together when the time came. They had each other, heart and soul.

That would never change.

#Merlin #Merthur #My Fanfic

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nvuy · 7 months ago

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How do you write so well? I'm trying to get into writing because I YEARN to create, but it is very difficult. Do you have any tips? I try and create, but it feels like there is a brick wall in my brain 😫 I also struggle to come up with ideas 😭😭

oh worm thank you so much im so honoured… i don’t want to just say ‘practise,’ even though that is half of quite literally improving in anything.

i am going to long post now. you’re welcome. this is my little guide to writing. in no way am i saying my writing is perfect and world class five stars, but this is just some things i learned along the way that helped me get better!!!

now this is all assuming considering you read my works that you also want to write reader inserts, but even if that’s not the case, i think all this stuff applies to normal writing as well.

what i do like to think is that ‘good writing’ is very very subjective. for example, i prefer much more philosophical pieces, ambiguous endings, extensive world building, and things like that, and i like to put it in my writing.

however, what you may like about my writing could be what someone else absolutely hates. not everyone can be bothered to read 4 pages on a heavy description of a quiet deserted street in the rain, or a dusty old library , or the bustling atmosphere of a cafe. some writers like to do scenarios without fully developed plots. some do.

WRITING IN A NUT SHELL

what really helps is to find where you lie on this spectrum. do you prefer overtly poetic descriptive writing, or straight to the point, no beating around the bush? or does it depend?

i know it’s sounds taxing to write heavy descriptions and worldbuilding and this and that, but if you like to read it, chances are you may also like to write it yourself.

this is a tip i lowkey thought was common sense, but i’ve spoken to moots on discord and other platforms about it, and a lot of writers just… don’t know about it?

basically it’s that A First Draft is a First Draft. this has been said time and time again. j.r. tolkein didn’t write LOTR in a day, rowling did not write the entire harry potter series in one shot. nobody did that.

as well as this, my first drafts never start out as fully fledged stories. most of them look like this:

notice the obnoxiously large gap in between? yep! two entirely different scenes, but under the same concept. you don’t need cohesion in your drafts. that comes with time. get all your ideas down first.

my first drafts are awful. they’re absolute dogshit. most of the time, i abandon a lot of my works altogether. but i never delete anything, because sometimes i may come back and suddenly get inspiration again.

most of my first drafts look like this:

notice how it lacks with everything. there’s no flavour here. it’s incredibly dialogue heavy, and it’s clearly supposed to have some sort of surreal feeling to it.

come back to it later only when i feel like it and rewrite it only when you feel like it:

same concept, same exact scene, but now it has more emotion. because i’ve written it a second time, or maybe even a third, or fourth (anymore than that, and im sorry, but drop it. it’s doing you more harm than good). so many people hit this writers block because they want their first draft to be perfect and it won’t ever be.

don’t focus on the itty bitty details. get the idea down first. you can always come back later. it really really helps to get out of ruts and stuff.

another thing: You Don’t Need To Start With Writing Fanfics Right Away. and i wouldn’t recommend it. not doubting you, or any other young bright-eyed writers, but fanfics are gruelling work that require lots and lots of planning.

i would honestly recommend getting started and finding comfort with one shots and/or headcanons, or drabbles, or whatever else short fics are called, because they require a lot less dedication, and it’s a lot more fun, because you can spring from one idea to another. majority of my works are short fics for a reason. it’s a lot easier to write, and i personally find it more enjoyable :) try it out!

IDEAS: WORLDBUILDING

(this next segment is assuming your fic wants to take place in a different area than canon) (otherwise, check out descriptions/images/videos of the place your world is supposed to be set in!! same idea!!)

if you’re unsure about worldbuilding and what exactly this place you’re creating is supposed to look like or how it might function, browse pinterest! there’s so many real and/or fake & rendered places on that site. is your area really cold and constantly snowing? search up some art with those key words. it could help you gain a clearer image!

let’s use an example: say the world im building my fic is based in a very cold, always snowing, always icy town. we go on pinterest, have a bit of a look around, and then we go Ooh this looks interesting!!

this is a painting by alexander andriyanov.

who are these people? where are they? what’re they doing? is horseback and carriage their primary mode of transport? do these people have access to vehicles like cars? do cars exist in my world at all? what are the surrounding buildings? etc etc.

TLDR: what im trying to say is if it helps you, look at something, listen to music, watch a movie, and then ask the question How Do I Make This About Me?

this speedpaint by darek zabrocki helped me get an idea of what snezhnaya in my multi chapter fic on ao3 was supposed to look like. obviously snezhnaya isn’t released in genshin just yet, so it allows me a lot of creative freedom in that regard.

you can always always use other people’s works as inspiration. why do you think so many songs these days use samples from older tracks? it’s basically the same thing. obviously, don’t downright copy, that’s plagiarism, but seriously. if you’re struggling to create this world in your head, pinterest is your best friend.

IDEAS: PLOTS & THE CENTRAL CONFLICT

in terms of coming up with actually plot ideas, i said it before and i’ll say it again. movies, shows, games, other people’s stories, other fanfics/books, paintings and other forms of artwork, history, etc.

if you’re writing a fanfic, most writers like to take the canon route, and you’re welcome to do that.

if you’re worried about your own ideas being lacklustre or you can’t think of anything, but the canon storyline is good for your fic, canon divergence is always fun!

for example! i haven’t posted it here, but i always did have this idea of a neuvillette centric fic based on the love letter he received in one of the world quests. so you take something that happened in the game, and then you ask AGAIN: How Do I Make This About Me?

in terms of thinking up an entirely different idea or concept or prompt or whatever you want to call it, there’s honestly no right or wrong way of doing it. it’s really, really difficult though. i have so many ideas that are more suitable for one shots that fully fledged fanfictions.

again, read books you like. read other people’s works. read lore of the fandom you’re writing about, or better yet, sometimes i go off of a fleeting thought that a random NPC said at some point in the storyline that had little to no effect on the story.

what constitutes as a good plot and a bad plot is a matter of opinion. as long as there’s evident improvement (or the opposite, if that’s your fancy) of your characters in your story, whether that be their personality, relationship with others, or whatever, then you’ve successfully written a cohesive narrative.

how most of my works start is actually because i randomly come up with one scene in my head that haunts me. i call them Brain Rots™.

for example, in my scaramouche fic on ao3, the scene that started the entire thing was of some sort of solider that presented a ring to the doctor in a very cold and barren wasteland.

and then i asked, what is the significance of this ring? is the solider injured? should the doctor care? why are they there in the first place? where is this place? where do they go after this?

hopefully you get the picture.

TLDR: figure out what makes your Brain Rot™ about the particular scene that’s playing on repeat in your head, find your inspiration through any sort of media you enjoy consuming that you find directly links to your ideas (because most likely if you enjoy something, you’ll be inspired by it more than you would with something you actively don’t like) (and this ‘media’ ranges from pictures, real life anecdotes/stories, video games, other fics, music, art, etc.), ask questions (How Do I Make This About Me), and then answer them yourself!!!!

and also just practise and practise and practise!!! you will subconsciously develop new skills by consuming media and reading other people’s works that you really like. it all comes with time :) !!!!!

#writing tips #writing advice #worldbuilding #✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )

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hannahlikeso741 · 1 year ago

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HL Boys say their Wedding Vows to GN!MC

So here is another post inspired by @hogwartslegacyreactions. HL boy's saying their wedding vows to MC on their wedding day. MC is gender neutral on this one.

Sebastian Sallow :

You had me the minute we dueled together. And since then I knew you were the one for me as I fallen for your ambitions, determination that seems to align with mines. You had been the only one who has been by my side, even at my darkest hour. I would have been content at your friendship but I would be denying my heart that now belongs to you, as it always was. I know I didn't make it easy on you, and I am grateful that you stood by me. I'm already the luckiest man alive with you by my side, and I promise to give it my all as your husband, because being with you for the rest of my life is all the reward I'll ever need.

Ominis Gaunt:

All my life, I believed I would never know love. I have been thought that the world is cruel. But you came to prove me wrong. I have tried to push you away many times but eventually I couldn't deny that I wanted to be lost in your embrace. You looked past my background and just simply believed that I was worthy of love even when I don't. It was as if you were sent to prove me wrong. And for that, my dear, I want to share my life with you, to the person that believed in me. Come what may, but as long as I am holding your hand, I have the strength to face it as long as we are together.

Garreth Weasley:

Well, I will admit I didn't know how to behave around you at first. But after than Potions accident where you got that Fwooper feather for me and the Billywig stings, I knew you had a mischievous side to you. Since then we have been up to plenty of shenanigans but the more time we have spent together I have noticed little things about you that made my heart skip a beat. Started off with your smile, your humor and then...your belief in me. That is when I wanted no one else to brew trouble with, as long as I am greeted by you everyday. I hope that we will grow old together as we continue on our journey towards life, with a few laughs and pranks along the way.

Amit Thakkar:

Of all the people you could have chosen, you chose me. To be honest I am still in awe that you did. Since then, it has been an adventure with you, just like the stories I grew up with. Your light is brighter than any star, and your beauty will outlive any constellation there is in my eyes, you are the bravest being there is, which will serve as my inspiration to carry forward when times are tough. For that, I promise to be your anchor, to shower you with care and affection as long as I live. I hope our love will last as long as there are stars in the sky.

Leander Prewett:

When I first met you, I was intimidated. You were the buzz going around Hogwarts that I thought you would never look my way. I am still in awe that you confessed you were attracted to me, as I didn't have much faith in myself. You have an aura, an energy that is as radiant as the sun, and as brave as a lion that has captured my heart in return. You have inspired me to be a better person, to own my flaws and my qualities for you have loved them as they are. And for that, it is a great honour to be by your side as your partner for the rest of my life.

Everett Clopton:

What can I say, other than I am fortunate that I am here with you, taking our matrimonial vows? From our first flying class where I had invited you to take a detour and you willingly came along, I knew from there and then our interests aligned. For that, I want to thank you, for placing your faith in me. We had our rough and good times but there is nobody else I want to do it with. May our union be shared with laughs and tears as we go through this journey called life.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy characters #character reacts #hogwarts legacy headcanons #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #amit thakkar #garreth weasley #everett clopton #leander prewett #gn!mc

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 1 year ago

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I AM BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE FUCKING WALL AND ABOUT TO CRY I'M SO FUCKING MAD I HATE ZKS I HATE ZKS I HATE ZKS

okay, now that THAT is out of the way. I hate how zutarians treat Jet. I get aang, as he is katara's canon love interest and the one she ultimately ends up with. Naturally, this would screw with zks' delusions so, yeah, I can see where the hate is coming from, I understand (though by no means do I endorse it)

BUT JET??? WTF DID HE DO?? He was never a "threat" to zk, because katara ditched the barely a day long crush on him the second she learned about his plan. Was it the fact that he (rightfully!!!) calls out iroh and zuko and is antagonistic of them for not just being fn, but for straight up being fucking ROYALS, WHOSE DIRECT ANCESTOR IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE WAR IN THE FIRST PLACE??

It doesn't matter to zks that jetara was obviously never going to be canon. It doesn't matter to zks that jet's anger is justified. It doesn't matter that jet is probably one of the most tragic characters in the whole fucking franchise, who suffers greatly from war, becomes severely traumatized, loses pretty much everything and on top of that has an "honour" to be one of the few characters who DIES ON SCREEN. It doesn't matter to zks that he's just like katara, sokka and aang - a child permanently scarred by the war.

None of this matters!! He's now a sexist (wut) prick who downplays katara's achievements, toxic, cheats on her (wut) and in some cases just straight up abusive. Basically completely takes over what is usually aang's ""role"" in zks' fewer dreams as katara's abusive ex whom zuko saves her from.

WITH MY WHOLE FUCKING HEART - FUCK ZKS. It's one thing if it's projection and something like that for the sake of smut or whatever. I'm proship, I don't give a flying fuck about 99% of the stuff I see. But this is just a disrespect to Jet's whole character. Why can't they just make up a whole new faceless dude for the role of an abusive ex? Why does it have to be one of the characters, especially ones who were never interested in katara to begin with?!?!

1 - Jet has a lot in common with Zuko, but he is still obviously not the same as Zuko - yet Katara had feelings for him, and not for the fandom's favorite moody boy (and she had WAAAAAY better chemistry with Jet than she ever did with Zuko). Can't have that.

2 - Jet HATES the Fire Nation, which is completely fair (even if his actions in his introduction episode were attrocious). And this fandom, for whatever reason, LOVES to pretend "The Fire Nation totally had a bit of a point" and "Sozin was not an evil man, he just wanted to help people, please forget that he chose to use the comet to wipe out an entire race from the face of the Earth." Jet was always going to be controversial because the fandom would take his (incorrect) way of dealing with his trauma as proof he was 100% pure, while excuse Fire Nation characters that did bad things but had a heart/tragic backstory. Double-standards at it's finest.

3 - He antagonized Iroh and Zuko, two fan favorites. This is, apparently, the worst crime one can commit. As an Azula fan, I should know.

4 - The show was not always fair to Jet either. While they redeemed and KILLED him and the Gaang was clearly upset, the only time he is ever brought up again (without it being a joke) was in the Southern Raiders, and it only mentions the awful behavior he came to regret - not his change of heart. Sure, it was not an innacurate comparison at the moment, but it's unfair that the dude DIED to prove he had changed but is never remembered for anything other than his worst action.

5 - Bryke, unfairly, said anyone who ships Zutara is doomed to have awful, failed relationships for liking such a "dark" ship. They did not like that, and thus double-down on making anyone that had any involvement with Katara be the literal devil in their fics. Unlike Aang, Jet actually DID manipulate Katara once and showed he could get violent towards people with no provocation, so they latch onto that to go "See? OUR ship is not the bad one, THIS is!" completely ignoring Jet's regret, growth, and redemption, as well as Katara's forgivenes.

Anyways, Jet isn't even among my favorite Avatar characters, but Jesus, does the fandom love to crucify that boy for things they'd absolutely forgive characters like Zuko and Iroh for.

#anti zutara #pro jet #pro jetara

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amberjazmyn · 1 year ago

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matthew gray gubler one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - instagram

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - legit none, just some fluffy couple instagram posts

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - a series of instagram posts from users gublergram and yourusername.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i just wanted to get another chapter out so i thought this would be a cute idea but if anyone has any ideas, please let me know as i am struggling to come up with original ideas rather than recycling older chapters.

part two masterlist

- - -

Liked by yourusername, shemarfmoore and 1,280,31 others

gublergram sorry folks but, my girlfriend, who is also my best friend, is better than you!

view all 34k comments

ynfan1 omfg you two are so fucking cute stop it right now!

shemarfmoore this is so rude! i thought i was your best friend :(

yourusername shemarfmoore ha, ha, ha! suck it where the sun doesn't shine, chocolate thunder! i told you that gube has always loved me more because i'm a two-in-one!

kirstenvangsness the literal loves of my life and i'm not even joking

mggfan1 can we please talk about the comments between shemar and y.n, please?

mggfan2 you two are adorable just stop it right now! yourusernamepls help a babe out and tell us where you found your mgg. asking for a friend

yourusername mggfan2 awe you're so sweet and, truthfully, he honestly found me and i fell in love straight away but, i promise, when the time comes, you'll find your special person <3

liked by gublergram, kirstenvangsness and 1,300,80 others

yourusername teddy time reunions! yoursistersusername it's an utter privilege to watch little teddy grow up and what an amazing mother you are and what an amazing father your husband is as well. you two have blessed matthew and me with the sweetest nephew and we could not be more in love with the little man. thank you, truly, for giving us the honour of being teddy's godparents, we love you and your little family more than words can express and we would move the sun and moon for you three.

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gublergram it shocks me how much i have cried since y.s.n announced her pregnancy with little teddy has been an embarrassing amount. teddy turns me into mush but i love him so much

yoursistersusername gublergram gube, don't be lyin' babe, you have always been emotional and soft, way before teddy! however, before i had teddy, i was literally emotionless and now, i feel like my tiny heart has grown tenfold lol

ynfan2 this is the sweetest thing in the world but, are we seriously going to ignore the fact that y.n's sister just straight up exposed gube so casually? i love it!

kirstenvangsness omfg, teddy is absolutely precious! this little boy is gonna break hearts one-day y.s.n

ynfan3 am i the only one who now wants y.n and gube to have children?

yoursistersusername ynfan3 you are not the only one babe. the rest of the cm family, me and y.n's family and matthew's family are now all just waiting for them to announce a pregnancy or anything at this point really lol. but, when it does eventually happen, it'll be the best day ever!

liked by joemantegna, pagetpagetgram and 3,498,40 others

yourusername hey, babe, should we get married gublergram?

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joemantegna i swear to god, you better not be joking otherwise i will be very unhappy!

gublergram i'm already prepared for the tears but i am so excited!

pagetpagetgram hold on, what now? are y'all actually serious?

kirstenvangsness wait wait wait... is this real?

shemarfmoore hold the fuckity fuck up? i was not prepared for this today!

ynfan4 holy crap omg omg omg omg!

mggfan3 it's happening y'all stay calm omg omg omg omg!

mggfan4 woah woah woah! omg, is this real? i'm actually going to cry rn!

liked by yourusername and 7,498,30 others

gublergram y.n, you are the life and light of my life as well as my soulmate.

first things first, i don't think in my entire existence on this earth i've felt the same love for you with anyone else. you are my favourite person to ever walk this earth. you always know how to make me laugh and smile. but you always remind me that i don't have to be happy all the time. you always remind me that it's okay for me to cry and to be anxious when i am anxious or sad. i knew from the very first day i met you that i was going to fall in love with you and one day marry you. you care for me in ways that are unimaginable and it warms my heart because you can do it so easily as though it's the most natural thing for you. i love the way your eyes and nose crinkle up when you smile or when you're having a laughing fit. i love the way you pull your hair back with your extensive collection of colourful claw clips. i love how you try to blow strands of hair from your face when i mess up your hair on purpose or when you tuck some of my own hair behind my ear. i love how you always maintain eye contact when you're in conversation with somebody, even when it's a thing you're still learning. i love how kind you always are to everyone, no matter if they were rude or nice to you. i love how positive you are even when times are tough. i love how you take care of teddy and i can already see what an amazing mother you'd be to our future children. i love how fearless you are. i love the way you always steal my clothes. i love the way you always wear mismatched socks and kimonos with me. i love the way you square up to anyone who feels like they need to say how nerdy or weird i am like it's something you'd be disgusted by. i love how you aren't embarrassed at all by the weird things i say do or portray on tv. i love how you love me for me. "thy grace, thy more than beauty, shall be an endless theme of praise, and love - a simple duty." edgar allan poe

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pagetpagetgram fuck me, y'all weren't joking omg i am actually crying!

ajcook oh my gosh i am literally about to cry right now!

yourusername i love you so much more gube. you literally light up my world like nobody else and i cannot wait to marry you!

shemarfmoore oh fuck you guys were serious! y'all should have warned us before you hard launched!

kirstenvangsness omg omg yesss! it's happening! my loves are getting married!

joemantegna well, seems like i need a licence to ordain because i will be officiating this wedding!

ynfan5 OMG OMG OMG I'M SOBBING SKSKSKSKSKS

mggfan5 this post is so sweet omg, this is going to be the best wedding of the entire year

- - -

i'm making a part two. the continuation after this will be the wedding photos, and maybe a small surprise teehee

ok ily bye xx

word count; 1248

#matthew gray gubler x y.n #fake instagram one-shot #criminal minds cast

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ticketstomydaydreams · 4 years ago

Text

HOME

(All We Have: Part One)

Part Two

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together

Word count: 1,580

Feels: Friendship Fluff for now

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - Home

Sia - Dressed in Black

The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends

A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️

______

It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.

Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.

He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.

______

2019

You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.

"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"

"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"

You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you

" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"

You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"

Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again

"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"

Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"

You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"

He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.

He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"

You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought

He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,

"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"

You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.

He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.

______

From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you

Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.

"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode

You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"

“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”

You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”

Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”

Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”

Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,

“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”

Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor

“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes

It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.

There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.

Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.

As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…

Home.

______

❌❌ Lace up!

#mgk fluff #colson baker x reader #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson x reader #mgk fic #machine gun kelly #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #mgk fanfiction #colson baker

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Note

For the bingo card, how about Dori & Nori come to young Ori’s spelling contest or poem performance or something and being absolutely so proud of him!!!!

My dear friend (whom I love truly), I am sorry, but this turned out sadder than I thought...I don't even know if this even qualifies as fluff anymore...

Also...there's a tiny Easter-egg in the story, if you find it, let me know <3

Art by @estethell ❤️

Life is a poem that doesn't rhyme

Words: 1,6 k

Characters : Ori, Dori, Nori & OC

“Come on, little one,” Dori wrapped his broad hand around the tiny one stretched out hesitantly in front of a frail body.

Mari was too small, too dainty, too fragile for a dwarven maid, he knew, and that might have been the reason for her deep-felt friendship with his youngest brother.

As the only child given – and almost lost thrice – to her parents, she was their most precious jewel and Dori felt proud and honoured that they agreed to let her come to their house to sit with Ori. Both were good, studious children, which brought great satisfaction and pleasure to their parents and guardians.

“Want a piggyback ride?” Nori offered and the small girl nodded, her pitifully thin braids bobbing. They were late already, and Ori would be heartbroken if he could not find them in the audience for his reading.

“Are you excited?” Dori asked the girl as they trotted down to the great hall where Ori – their pride and joy – would be called upon to read some of the excellent poetry he had written; wise beyond his age, their youngest brother had a mind that never ceased to astonish and amaze them.

“Yes,” Mari replied in that soft, ethereal voice of a creature having breathed the air of the Halls of Waiting, “he is my best friend.”

There was no excitement or effervescent childishness in her tone though; she declared her allegiance to another subpar dwarven youngster with the sober objectivity of a universal truth.

"I'm sure he’ll be happy that you could join us today,” Dori went on, tugging her scarf a bit tighter around her neck to make sure that she wouldn’t catch a cold.

“I doubt that,” she smiled ever so softly, “Ori knows how much I’ve enjoyed his poetry the first twenty times he read it to me. He doesn’t need me to be there to know.”

Ah, so wise, Dori thought to himself, and yet so young and naïve still.

Of course, Mari was right, and a part of his brother would definitely have known that the absence of his best friend would be due to other duties or to her frail health, but that didn’t prevent or soothe the sting of disappointment upon realising that his favourite pair of eyes would not witness his moment of triumph.

There had been too few of those.

Guilt – hot and humiliating – washed through Dori’s heart; if only they had been richer, if only Nori had been a steadier supporter of the family, maybe Ori had not turned out so delicate that Dori was constantly afraid that a strong gust of wind would blow him away.

“Your approval means much to him,” he muttered under his breath, wondering if he and Nori did enough.

Did the boy know how proud they were of him? Was he aware that they were in speechless awe whenever they observed him shoot across and beyond the limits of their own intellect?

If only he had been a smarter dwarf, he might have understood his baby brother better.

So many regrets, so many ‘if only’s, so many ‘what if’s…and no way to remedy them; he was terrified to be a curse upon the one who was his truest blessing.

More often than not, he felt like a dumb housecat, pawing helplessly at the surface of a pond, unable to even fathom or imagine the underwater world in which his darling brother – like a turtle – was at home and at ease.

And just like that mysterious creature, Ori could exist on land – amongst people who found him strange for being so woefully maladapted – and he never complained or boasted about that other realm he shared with the likes of his little friend in secret.

“He might not be loved by many, but at least he’s truly loved by a few,” Mari nodded solemnly for she knew that whatever dimensions of love, loyalty, and devotion had been revealed to her thus far, they were candles burning in Ori’s honour.

May your heart be true, Dori thought, for Ori will need a friend like you.

As a creature meant to live for centuries, he knew – as well as Nori – that a true friend was a shield, a sword, a morsel of bread, and a cup of water when one was alone, naked, and bleeding at the bottom of one of life’s ravines.

Plucking the girl – oh, she was much too light and brittle in his hands – off Nori’s back, Dori guided her to the seats reserved for them and smiled when she smoothed first her hair and then her beautiful lavender dress before sitting down, her hands politely folded in her lap.

She was yet too young to decide if she would ever want to wed, but – knowing full well how selfish and devious such a thought was – Dori wondered if she would ever come to think of his brother as dams sometimes pondered male dwarves.

In their present state – and given the lack of potential both displayed – they would probably be blessed never to even consider that option; it was hard enough to find a partner if one was traditionally handsome and wealthy enough to support a family.

“Hush,” Mari whispered to nobody in particular as Ori stepped onto the small dais, his face aflush with nervous embarrassment.

As predicted, his eyes swept across the crowd until they came to rest on the faces of the people closest and dearest to his little, sensitive heart; the broad smile of recognition and gratefulness – a smile Dori cherished beyond everything in this world – rivalled the glare of the lanterns as his eyes lit up with joy.

Ori’s trembling voice vacillated like a flame in a draught but – after a few moments – he grounded himself, stubbornly brave little boy that he was, and read his heart-wrenching and utterly beautiful poetry with the natural rhythm and ease of a river racing the wind.

“That’s bloody good,” Nori whispered, earning a jab in the ribs by his brother who nodded at Mari sitting silent and entranced in her chair, her legs dangling in the air.

“It’s well paced.” Dori agreed then, pride swelling in his heart to the point where it choked his voice into a thin, tremulous whistle.

“It’s the rhythm of his heartbeat,” Mari commented, not taking her eyes off her friend of a single moment.

“What would you know?” Nori laughed good-humouredly.

“What do you mean? It’s the first thing you hear and – if you’re lucky indeed – it’s also the last. The steady beating of a drum that calls you home,” Mari replied, still not sparing a single side-glance for the stunned dwarf at her side.

Nori nodded slowly, meeting Dori’s eyes over Mari’s head; he could not understand where Ori took the talent, the inspiration, or even the words from but he was proud of their little one in such an unselfish way that he barely recognised the ebbing and flowing emotion, threatening to drown him, as his own.

Ori would make it out, Nori knew, he would grow beyond both him and Dori even if he never shot up another inch in his life; his warmth, his quiet courage, and that wickedly sharp mind of his would carry him further than he – himself – could even see.

Dori’s thoughts ran along similar lines indeed; sorrowful by nature, he was afraid of the day when Ori would leave for a place where he could not follow him anymore. He lived in constant terror of the moment when the strong moral compass and the iron determination of the pebble would set him on a path from which he wouldn’t ever return.

Not today though, Dori tried to remind himself, today, Ori was just a young poet, grinning at his brothers and his best friend over the beaded and braided heads of a nameless, faceless crowd. He was still their little pebble, their greatest treasure, their biggest achievement, and Dori could not have loved him more if he had been of his own seed.

When Ori finished, Nori clapped and hollered raucously – much to the amusement of Ori and the embarrassment of Dori – while Mari simply nodded slowly.

Not waiting for the accolades, Ori hopped off the dais and ran towards his family, jumping into Dori’s arms eagerly to be spun around.

Dori closed his eyes; this too would fade, soon, much too soon, Ori would be too big and too grown to ask to be held by his older brothers.

“Well done,” Mari slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled forth a slightly squashed honeyed cake, “I made them myself, they might not be good, but I’ve tried.”

“Oh Mari, did you rest enough?” Ori asked, taking the cake, and breaking it apart to share with both his brothers – who declined politely – and Mari who simply nibbled at her piece distractedly. “It’s really good, thank you!”

Ori blushed a little; his courage was called forth by necessity and urgent situations, but it abated as quickly as it arose and now, he felt slightly uncomfortable being the centre of attention.

“I’m proud of you kid,” Nori chuckled, patting the soft, silky hair of his youngest brother three times for good luck, “I hope you know that.”

Ori nodded shyly; yes, no matter how they fought and bickered between themselves, he had never doubted that his brothers were fond of him – even though he was kind of small and spindly still – and it was their love and support that gave him the strength to be brave.

“Thank you ever so much for coming,” he whispered and allowed a small smile to spread on his face as Mari handed the bigger part of her share of the cake back to him with a whispered promise that she still loved every single word of his poetry.

Life would be hard, Ori knew, for all of them because of different reasons; not today though, tonight, the world was perfect, and he was happy.

Does this qualify as fluff? I don't know...

I am sorry, if you hate it, please send another one and I'll try again :(

#fotfics #february challenge #fluffy prompts #the hobbit #fanfiction #ori #dori #nori #ri brothers #slight angsty hints #Idk what happened #I'm so sorry

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allystyles1 · 3 years ago

Text

the proposal-Loki Laufeyson x reader (daisy series-part 7)

Hi people! first of all thanks for the birthday messages🙃 i made myself cry like 20 times while writing this and i'm sorry if it makes you cry too. Happy reading! Thanks for all the feedback<3

my main masterlist is here!

series masterlist is here!

It was the next day but you were still trying to process what your parents had said. Could they really “forbid” you from seeing Loki? You just wanted to talk to Loki, wanted him to tell you it was all going to be okay. Did he even love you back? Maybe you just wanted to believe he did and your brain convinced you but he didn’t. You really needed to talk to him.

You got up and left the room to go to his. The maids tried to stop you (you guessed it was Frigga’s request) but you said you needed to use the bathroom and kept walking until you were standing in front of his door. You listened to the sound coming from inside, was he crying? You knocked on the door three times and waited a second before knocking two more, the sign you used to have with Loki to say “it’s me.”

“No.”

“Loki, please. Your mother doesn’t know i’m here and... I need to see you.”

“I said no y/n.”

You wiped the tear that escaped your eye. “We don’t have to talk, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to but i have to see you Loki. Please.”

The door slowly opened, revealing a Loki sitting on his bed with his eyes closed.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t even bare to see me?” You didn’t care about the tears anymore.

“I could never hate you y/n, but i would hate myself for what i might do if i see you.”

“Loki i just want you to know that i-”

“Please leave.” He swallowed, probably wanting to say something else but didn’t. “I promise i won’t tell my mother you came here. Please just, go.”

“Loki, i have to do it. I have to say yes to Thor tonight and i am so sorry. I hope you will understand me one day.”

“Goodbye y/n.” You turned back and left the room, crying on your way back and thankfully not seeing anyone you knew.

“My lady, are you okay?” one of the maids in front of the door asked you and you nodded.

“Could you please get something to eat for me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“y/n, are you in?” you heard Frigga’s voice outside of your room.

“Yes, come in.” She got in the room and closed the door, giving you a sincere smile.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” You nodded. “Have you decided on what you’ll do at the dinner?” You nodded again.

“I’m going to say yes.” She gave you a sad smile and hugged you.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this love. And i’m sorry i couldn’t stop this. I couldn’t keep my promise to you.”

“No, it’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself for it. I’m the one saying yes and my parents are the ones forcing me. You’re just being there for me when no one else is doing it.” She smiled and kissed your forehead. She smelled like Loki, you didn’t realise it before but they actually smelled really similar. Loki would always smell like new books and a garden in spring, his scent would bring you comfort.

“Well if you’re going to say yes, you might want to wear something different than that.” Frigga pointed to your current dress, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me? Will he ever talk to me again?”

“What?” Frigga wasn’t expecting your question out of nowhere.

“Loki, do you think he’ll forgive me? I’m doing this to see him again but i don’t think he’d do that if i say yes. It’s like the universe doesn’t want us to be together. We won’t be able to live like we wanted to no matter what i do.” She shook her head and held your hand, caressing the back of it with her thumb.

“I think you’re not the person he’s angry with. He will understand, if you tell him your reason.”

“I can’t do that. I- Thor is my best friend and if i become his wife then i won’t betray him. Loki will just remain a friend, i’ll always love him but i can’t act on it while i’m married to Thor.”

“You have the kindest heart in the universe, my sweet child. You don’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry.” She smiled and hugged you again before leaving the room to let you get dressed.

You chose a simple sundress with a jacket in case it got windy and tried to hide that you had been crying a lot earlier with a little make up. Just when you were wearing your shoes you heard a knock.

“Frigga?”

“No, it’s me.” Thor spoke from the other side of the door. You quickly wore the other shoe and opened the door with a smile on your face.

“Thor. Hey. Uh, how are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks. How are you?” He smiled and offered you his arm. You held his forearm and started walking.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You looked a little angry yesterday, are you mad at me?”

“No, of course not. Why would i be?” You forced another smile on your face. He nodded but you could see he didn’t really believe you. You were still thankful he didn’t ask about it any more though.

“So uh.. Did you think about what our parents told us yesterday?” Oh no, not at all. You definitely didn’t almost felt like you were becoming blind because of how much you cried.

“Yes. And i know what you’re going to ask. No, i won’t scream anything this time.” Hopefully.

“Okay, that’s good.” He smiled and didn’t say anything else until you got to the dining room. As soon as Frigga saw you she came and hugged you before making you and Thor sit a little away from your parents. Loki was there but he was talking to Sif, with a huge smile on his face. At least he was happy.

“I need to use the bathroom before we start.” You smiled and Thor nodded. You got up from your seat and made your way to the bathroom. After closing the door you washed your face, trying to calm yourself down a little bit. You looked up when you heard the door opening.

“Hey.” Sif smiled, she didn’t look like she was angry with you.

“Hi.”

“I talked to the queen today.” You nodded and she sighed. “She told the story to me from your point of view and that made me feel really shitty about the way i acted the other day.” She admitted.

“Okay. So you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“No. No i’m not. y/n i’m so sorry.” She hugged you tightly, nearly choking you.

“Sif.” She let go and smiled.

“I’m sorry, i just missed you. It was awful not talking to you knowing i was the one that acted really stupid.”

“Hey, don’t say that. You were sad and it was in the heat of the moment.”

“So i’m forgiven?” she smiled.

“I was never mad at you. I could never be mad at you.” you smiled too and hugged her again.

“Loki came to me today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he was really sad, crying actually. It was probably the first time i saw him do that since we were so little.” You were the reason he cried. You were the reason he was sad when the only thing you wanted to do was to be able to see him again.

“So i’m guessing that means you’re going to say yes to Thor?” she looked at your eyes and you nodded.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.” She smiled.

“Why not?”

“Because i know why you’re doing it and i know Thor will be happy so that’s enough for me. I would never make a nice wife anyway.” She chuckled and you smiled.

“Thank you. For understanding.”

“Of course, you’re my best friend and i have to be there for you no matter what because you did the same for me for years.” She smiled and held your hand, walking back to the table with you. At least now that you knew Sif was okay with it, you felt a lot better. She sat next to you and squeezed your hand, reassuring she was there for you. You smiled and started eating with the others. It was quiet, the parents said something here and there but no one really talked that much.

You looked at Loki, not expecting him to be already looking at you. He first looked away, trying to hide it but then looked back at you with a serious face. You turned back to your dinner and sighed softly, telling yourself that you were doing this for him and he would understand it. Sooner or later.

When everyone was finished with their dinner, Odin told the maids to get the dishes and the table was clean in seconds. Everyone was looking at each other, waiting for someone to say something. Thor finally cleared his throat, bringing the attention to himself.

“So, as we all know, i’m going to be the new king really soon,” he got up from his chair and kneeled on one knee before you. “and i will need myself a queen. y/n, i have known you my whole life and i knew i wanted to spend all my life with you even when i was just a little boy. You know me better than anyone in all the nine realms, you have always been there for me and i know you always will be.” He pulled out a ring, you knew it was Frigga’s. You looked at her and she just smiled. “No matter what happened i always found my way back to you. You are my best friend, my favorite person in the universe, and the love of my life. So will you please marry me and give me the honour of having you as my wife?” You closed your eyes and let a tear escape your eye. Thor was so in love with you, and you felt so bad for saying yes but you had to. You couldn’t live without Loki.

“Don’t.” You heard Loki’s voice but you knew he was not actually talking out loud. “I’m sorry.” You thought, knowing he was reading your mind and smiled at Thor.

“Yes. I will marry you.” He grinned like a five year old slipped the ring on your finger before getting up and lifting you from your seat.

“I love you so much.” He kissed you deeply, you returned his kiss and when you stopped everyone was smiling. And Loki wasn’t in the room anymore.

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liibrii · 4 years ago

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Miya!Reader x Miyas

Synopsis: Nothing simpler than grocery shopping. Right?

wc: 1.2k

a part of The third Miya series

a/n: Miyas are pure chaos and I’m here for it. If you wanna be tagged in the coming scribbles lemme know and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

One thing was sure; every single time you were sent to get groceries Osamu got lost somewhere between entering the store and the first shelf. Years of being used to it and you still worry, knowing better than anyone he always follows his nose rather than his eyes; though ever since the mango incident you'd rather no one knew you are related.

And after all, he is like a cat, aloof and distant until food came into picture and he winds his way between your legs till he either gets what he wants or you end up flat on your face. And he still gets what he wants.

Atsumu on the other hand, is a parrot. A colourful, obnoxiously loud parrot who always wants whatever is in your hands, not caring what you knock over trying to keep your small treasures from his grabby little claws. Or, hands.

The current treasure in question being the shopping list. It's been a long time since you stood a chance against Atsumu when it came to pure pulling strength and the unfortunate victim to experience it is, well are, the two pieces of paper in yours and his hand. “Great,“ you say, “if we forget to buy anythin' I'm blamin' ya.“

“This wouldn't have happened if ya just gave me the damn paper in the first place,“ huffs Atsumu.

You stuff the torn piece of paper in your pocket. “Where's Samu?“

“What am I? His babysitter?“

“No, that honour would be mine,“ you dead pan to his snarky question. Throwing a quick glance up and down the aisle you fail to notice your other brother between the customers. Well, whatever. He'll show up sooner or later. So you return your attention to tooth paste. Dad likes the blue one. Only there are at least four different blue ones.

“Just take the cheapest.“

“That one's digustin’.“

“If we buy the cheaper stuff we'll have more money left over to buy snacks!“

“Ooo,“ your eyes widen as you do the quick math, “Tsumu yer so smart!“ You grab two of the cheapest tubes. “Maybe we can even get Samu-nii to make us some onigiri...“ The mere thought of them makes your mouth water.

“Samu-nii?“ he frowns. “Ya never call me that.“

“Ya lost that privilege when ya framed me for eatin' his puddin'. We should get some hair dye too. Yer roots are starting to show.“ No way are you going to let your brother walk around with roots showing. Oh no. Not under your watch.“Maybe some purple shampoo but I don't see it anywhere...“

“What for?“

“So we can get ya a real nice platinum colour.“

“Nah, I like the one I have.“

You straighten up and give him a look of disbelief. “It's yellow.“

“Gold! It's gold! 'Cause I'm a champion!“

Right. “Whatever you need to tell yerself little brother.“

While he hisses back insults, because he's the oldest and how dare you disrespect him in the 7-Eleven of all places, you try to remember what the next thing on the shopping list was. Shampoo, right, check, dad's favourite shaving cream is already in the cart, as is deodorant you've gotten in a fight over with Atsumu just a minute ago (“I want this one!“

“Tsumu this one stinks like a teenage boy who hasn't showered in a week.“

“I AM A TEENAGE BOY!”). You should take one for Osamu too. Their morning squabbles weren't how you liked starting your day, not that a single deodorant would stop that but one can dream, right? Speaking of which, slowly it would be time to start looking for your always hungry triplet. Still ignoring Atsumu you head towards the food section.

Here's the thing about parrots. Just like cats they want attention when you have something more important to do. A cat will nudge you, lay over your books or keyboard or whatever you might be doing at the moment, maybe dug its claws in your leg or just straight up refuse to leave no matter how many times you push it away. A parrot on the other hand, will perch itself on your shoulder and scream till you give it what it wants.

That's what Atsumu is doing at the moment. Well, not the screaming part, though his blabbering is just as annoying. He's leaning on your shoulder, flicking your ear while you compare the prices of bonito flakes. “Stop that.“

“I'm gonna get chips.“

“Wait for-“

He's already walking away, pushing the cart and whistling, so you roll your eyes and return your attention back to the packages. Which one did mom say tasted weird again?

Here's another thing about parrots. As innocent as they may look to some, they do love creating this thing called chaos. And here's the thing about chaos. Unlike some other things it's worse in small dosages, because in small dosages it's funny. For example, a parrot filling your shoe with sunflower seeds.

Or a golden haired boy filling the shopping cart with bags of chips. There's barely enough space for those three packages in your arms.

“Mom's gonna go ballistic if we buy so much chips,“ you say looking at Atsumu trying to stuff one more bag in the cart.

“We'll just pay separately.“

Oh right. You could do that. And this time not fail to forget taking the receipt out of the bag before dad finds it. While Atsumu tries to decide which package of crab chips to take next (as if he could cram one more in the cart) you sneak in some small packets of super sour candy. For later. You never knew when Samu will itch and go through your secret stash.

As if he smelled you're collecting ingredients for a trap his gray hair appears on the other side of the aisle. “What's with all that?“ he asks when he sees half the cart is filled with snacks.

“Supplies.“

Osamu puts his hands in pockets. “Put them back.“

You blink. Twice. Then glance over at Atsumu who looks just as shocked as you. He narrows his eyes and pinches Osamu's cheek. “Ya feelin' alright Samu? Got fever?“ Osamu swats his hand away. “Who are ya and what have ya done with our brother?“

And his hands are empty too... The only time Osamu didn't come back carrying a bunch of food was when you were shopping at a shoe store.

“If we don't buy snacks we can get sushi,“ he says with an expression that clearly asks how you two idiots couldn't work that out on your own.

“Oooo,“ both your and Atsumu's eyes widen in awe. You could get sushi. You both look at all the tasty, tasty snacks in the cart. Sushi... Or maybe ramen. A new restaurant did open up the street just last month. But then you'll have no goodies for later... But it's sushi.

“Alright, I'll get these back!“ Atsumu grabs the bags and stacks them back on the shelf.

“Hey! I haven't agreed yet!“ you protest.

Osamu pats your shoulder. “Two to one.“

You roll your eyes. It wasn't the rule of 'two over one' overruling whatever your answer was going to be, it was more you hate being the losing one. Even when you get a reward. Even when the reward is tasty food.

At least mom's paying.

tagging: @espressons

#Miya Atsumu #miya osamu #miya twins #hqcorenet #miya atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #atsumu x platonic!reader #osamu x platonic!reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic #inarizaki #the third miya #libri scribbles #can u tell I've been reading Terry Pratchett?

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munsons-maiden · 2 years ago

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Not on anon because I'm not shy about my feelings but I have so much admiration and respect for you and for your writing, your craft and dedication to those people and things you love. Your enthusiasm for Eddie and psychology and coffee and cosplay and how amazing you are, so creative and passionate and idk I've been drinking but I love you lots Kiki and I always looks for you if you don't show up on my dash for a few days just to see how you are.💕💕💕💕💕 I'm in awe of you and I wanna sit with you and drink coffee and watch season 4 together and hear all your thoughts and share mine with you.💕

Not Eri making me tear up at 5 in the morning 🥺 Thank you so, so much, my dear. I feel honoured, more than I could ever put into words, about your kind words because you're such an inspiring, beautiful soul yourself and I'm very happy to have met you on here 🖤

I hope you're having an amazing time and taking care of yourself, and I'll reply to your messages in the course of the next week 🖤🖤 (recovering from a bit of a rough past few days but I'm getting better, no worries 🥰)

Ask game: Anonymously tell me what you think of me. Don't sugarcoat it. I am just genuinely intrigued.

#kiki answers #eri 🎸#ask game

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lilallama · 4 years ago

Text

Valentines Day

TW: Obsessive behaviour, mentioning of stealing and slight homophobia, proceed with caution!

"Taehyung sweetie, wake up.~"

I groan and turn in my sheets, slowly regaining consciousness. "I've prepared you breakfast. Get dressed and come downstairs." The clacking of my mother's heels echoed through the hall as she went away. Groggily I sit up and stretch. I push my bangs out of my eyes I stare towards the window to my left. The sun shines through the thin curtains casting an orange light on my bedroom wall. I yawn and stand up, pulling the curtains aside and flooding the room with light. I take a moment to look outside, admiring our beautiful garden before remembering what day it is. Today is Valentines day! My God/Goddess asked me to meet up with them. Oh, spending Valentines with my saviour is the best thing to have ever happened to me!

I rush to pick out a white dress shirt, a khaki sweater vest with a black pair of slacks. After also brushing through my hair to untangle any knots I opened my secret Y/n shrine. The picture of their smiling face makes my heart pound so fast. They are otherworldly, absolutely ethereal! I take out a shirt of theirs which I borrowed a while ago. If I close my eyes it still smells like them, it's addictive.

Just to make sure that no items were robbed from their place I go through all items once again. Five chewed on pencils, a small box of empty wrappers, my 20 most favourite photos of them, the candle they accidentally bit into because they thought it was edible, the borrowed shirt, a pair of their underwear, a bunch of pins and hair ties they touched, the bundle of 36 hair strands I managed to collect (I only collect the hairs that have fallen out, I would never dare to cut or rip out my God's/Goddess' hair) and my water bottle which they drank out of (I had to buy a new one to keep this in my shrine but it was so worth it). All my items were there.

Suddenly I hear clacking and a small thud. I turn around in confusion, what just happened? But then I hear Yeontan's bark from the other side of the door. He ran against the door again. I can't help but laugh as I go to open the door for him. He jumps up a bit so I kneel down to pet him. "I'm meeting up with Y/n today, isn't that exciting!" Yeontan immediately started yapping, he loved my God/Goddess almost as much as I do. It's really incredible what an effect Y/n has on everyone, they all seem to love them. Well, then again that is expected to be the case considering Y/n is such a godly being.

"Taehyung!" "I'm coming!" My mother called me again. "Come on, boy." I hurry downstairs with Yeontan following me. "Good morning, Ma. Good morning, Pa." My father nodded at me while my mother beckoned me to sit down and eat. While I finish my breakfast my mother was talking about a lot of stuff. "Have you heard, they're trying to make gay marriage legal here. That is complete nonsense! God created a man and a woman for a reason." I have no clue what my mother was raging about. I concluded that she's probably just misinformed, Y/n said that being part of the lgbtq community is completely natural and alright. I know they know better than anyone else. "What's so bad about it, Ma?" My mother looked at me with horror. "They can't help who they're attracted to. It's all natural, isn't it?" My mother shook her head. "No!" She exclaimed, "Being gay or trans or something is inherently selfish! Gays are selfish! Men and women were created by God to conceive a child and stop the human kind from getting extinct. Trans are selfish! God gave you a body and you chose to change it in it's entirety! Such behaviour is unacceptable." "But I thought God loves everyo-" "Where have you even gotten that idea? Maybe you should go back to homeschooling. Clearly these other kids are having a bad influence on you." I look over to my father who just continues reading the newspaper. I respect my mother but she clearly isn't ready yet for the wisdom Y/n has bestowed upon me. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. "Look at the time we'll have to go now." Right, it was Sunday which means we're going to church. I always like going there, the windows astound me everytime. And the pastor is always so welcoming and friendly. I vividly remember asking him about the lgbtq community after Y/n had told me about them. He said that God loves everyone regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. He truly is a wise man.

As soon as we returned my father got a call from a business partner. They said they'd have to go now and want me to take Yeontan with me to my meet up. While I was a bit saddened that I couldn't be alone with my God/Goddess I decided it wouldn't be a problem.

Yeontan excitedly trots besides me as I make my way to the place where my saviour and I would meet up. I debated getting them a bouquet of red roses for Valentines day, but figured that the 20 letters, 12 stuffed animals and 18 bouquets I gave them during the past week would be enough, for now. As I make my way there I couldn't conceal the excitement I felt. Getting the chance to spend time with my Master/Mistress was something I believed I'd only ever dream about. The euphoria I feel from the mere thought of getting to see them today is dizzying.

Suddenly Yeontan starts barking and storms off. He never leaves my side, that's why he's not kept on a leash. To see him run away from me like that was surprising at best. But then I notice the reason for his behaviour. The puppy ran towards Y/n who was waiting for me a few metres away. How could I have just ignored my saviour like that! What I did was unacceptable. I would punish myself, but it would likely ruin Y/n's day, I can't let that happen. So I run after Yeontan, towards my God/Goddess.

"Good morning, Y/n! I'm sorry about him." I look down at Yeontan who's still getting pet by Y/n. He better cherish that they're even looking at him. It's bad enough that he practically demanded pats from them. So disrespectful. "No worries. He's so adorable!" At least Y/n seemed to enjoy his behaviour. I doubt it would work if I behaved that way towards them, but that's for another day to find out. "I dearly hope you didn't have to wait too long." They smile up at me. Oh, their smile is to die for. So incredibly perfect! I feel my knees getting weak. "Don't worry about it. I just arrived too." Yeontan started barking again and was noe excitedly jumping around, making Y/n laugh. "Awe! Yeontan is so adorable. I didn't know you'd take him with you." "It was unexpected for me as well." They stand up and take my hand. My heart is beating so fast, I feel as if I'm about to explode. It's getting harder to breathe. "Let's go now!" We start walking along the path with Yeontan rushing after us.

We sat outside a small café and each ordered our desired dessert. "Have you ever been on a date?" That question caught me off guard. "Oh, no. I haven't." I believe that much was quite obvious, but perhaps I was mistaken. They look surprised, shocked almost. "Really? How come? Aren't you getting asked out left and right?" "I suppose I just never had interest in anyone. I barely know those who ask me out. They're all so shallow to confess without knowing anything about me." Just then the waiter returned with our desserts. We thank him before we start eating.

Both of us watch as Yeontan is running around and playing in the snow. I look over to see Y/n smile at him, leading me to also smile. I adore their smile. Everything about them is so perfect. I could stare at them for hours and never get bored. Each detail is something new, something beautiful to discover. Unable to take y eyes off them I-

"Excuse me." Who dares interrupt my special time with my God/Goddess?! Two girls stood next our table. One almost cowering behind the other and mumbling something along the lines of, "Oh my god, no. Jess, don't." But I really couldn't care less. "My friend thinks you're really cute and was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with her." So annoying. I eye them down and make one thing clear. "I'm not interested." The girl cowering behind the other looked disappointed, perhaps ashamed. Good. She should be. After they interrupted my date with the Y/n they can go burn for all I care. "Have a good day." After the girls back away with the other girl exclaiming, "What a jerk!" I turn my attention back to Y/n. "Uhm, wasn't that a bit harsh?" They looked unsure. "Was it? I thought it was reasonable. Better to tell the truth than lead them on, am I correct?" They took another bite of their dessert. "I guess you're right."

We had a grand time strolling through the park, even having a snowball fight. They won. Obviously I could not compete with my God/Goddess, no one could ever. Yeontan was also very entertained as he kept trying to catch the snowballs as they flew over his head. Soon the sun began setting. It was incredible how fast the time flew by. Both our clothes were slightly damp due to the snow. I didn't think much about it untill Y/n began shivering. No no no no! My saviour could get sick, or die! I couldn't let that happen. I take off my jacket and gently place it over their shoulders. "But, won't you be cold?" I give them a reassured smile. "Don't worry about me, my God/Goddess. If I may, I'd love to accompany on your way home." They let out a bashful chuckle, making me melt. I feel my entire body heating up from that gorgeous chuckle. Their power over me is simply astounding.

All the way home I keep my arm atound them in hopes of providing some form of warmth for them. I cannot bear knowing that they're freezing. Never would I be able to forgive myself if they'd catch a cold. Yeontan was also slowly getting tired, which was by bo means a surprise considering how he played and jumped around all day. "Thank you for bring me home, Taehyung." Hearing them say my name makes my entire body tingle and flutter. "You do not have to thank me, Y/n. It was an honour!" Whatever I expected, it was not feeling their lips against mine. My mind went blank and I could barely stand. I felt dizzy, yet so so good! They gave me my jacket back after the short peck and laughed. "Goodnight!" Then they went inside and closed the door. I stood there for a moment, shocked at what had happened yet freling absolute bliss. After a minute or so I manage to finally pull myself together. I put on my jacket, it smells like them! And then I picked Yeontan up and walked home.

Oh, this day was the best I've ever had!

If you liked my work please reblog! 💌

#yandere bts #cooking club #yandere taehyung #yandere v #valentine week

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jaskiersvalley · 5 years ago

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Look I knew from things my friend reblogged that you have A Gift but now I'm following you and crying every time you post because it is ALWAYS top quality and I am but a poor little goblin with Feelings. You are my favorite and I love you. (also "oh what a hairy valley it is" is fucking hilarious I laugh every time I read it)

You are my new favourite and I love you too! Especially because you find “oh what a hairy valley it is” funny. As thanks, I hope you like a bit of a twist on the Witcher Wolf Pack and their Bard in a modern setting.

Street life was harsh but the wolves had learned how to play the game over the decades. Witchers had become nothing more than myths and they had died out. Or rather, they faded from visible existence and found ways to get with the times. But nobody really wanted grizzly, musclebound men with facial scars so the wolves of Kaer Morhen were left behind by society. It wasn’t like they could get paperwork and ID needed for work and rent, so they lived on the fringes, accepted the ‘help’ of a sorcerer. It wasn’t much better, living on the streets as wolves most idiots mistook for large dogs. But at least they could slink around relatively undisturbed. They could shift forms as they needed but most of the time, they remained four legged.

They had a whole system worked out, honourable as much as thieves could be. Because they needed to steal, needed food and money to survive. The back alley that they’d pulled blankets and cardboard boxes to had become home. But they couldn’t live off things they fished out of the dumpster all the time. It was how they ended up with a range of schemes and ploys.

Easiest was the sad, scared puppy game. It was one that Lambert excelled at, looking vulnerable. If he rolled in a puddle first, he could look exceptionally pitiful. His scars showed up the least too and, as the youngest, he often got the most response. Some days he would hang around outside a food shop and whimper at those going in. The more generous humans would emerge with their shopping plus a little something for him. When something was thrown his way, Lambert would snatch it out of the air and run, hide the stash until he could haul his trophies home to share.

More elaborate was the teamwork of Vesemir and Eskel. They didn’t pull it off often because it was much more dangerous for them both. At some traffic lights where cars were slowing down, Eskel would step in front of a car and get clipped. He’d perfected the art of just getting a glancing bruise on his shoulder but it sounded impressive enough. Once the car stopped, Vesemir, in his grizzled old glory, would fling himself in front of the car with a whimpering howl. That usually got everyone’s attention, the poor old dog, shaking and quivering on the floor. It was enough of a distraction for Eskel to shift to human form and dive into the car, pulling anything of value out. They had to be so careful, not taking anything from those who obviously were in need. That was on top of the constant worry that Eskel could actually get hurt or Vesemir would get carted off to the pound. But the few times they did it, they often got enough things to pawn or, once, a shopping bag full of party food.

Geralt was too bulky to look sad in front of a shop, he got chased with a broom more often than not. He also didn’t have Eskel’s light fingers to steal from cars or Vesemir’s gravitas to look convincingly injured. What he could do though was pickpocket and steal bags. It was so easy to walk pad through a square, a stray dog nobody paid attention to. A snout in a passing pocket resulted in a mouthful of wallet. And the times someone put a bag down to look at their phone or, rarely, to pet him, he could pick up the bag and trot off without much fuss. The other thing Geralt did was trail buskers. He learned about them, knew those who were busking for fun and those who needed the coins tossed at them. Those who did it for a hobby, Geralt had no qualms about ambling up to and snuffling their things. It usually earned him a pat on the head and a laugh. It meant he could curl up with whoever it was playing and, at the end of their stint, Geralt could snuffled a little more under the pretence of curiosity. Nobody ever thought to look in his mouth to find the coins they could have sworn were there.

It was a great ploy until a new busker turned up. Geralt couldn’t get a read on him. The man looked and acted like a peacock but he smelled tired and hurting. Before Geralt could even approach him to investigate, the man was setting his instrument to the side and reaching out in invitation for Geralt to join him.

“You might need a bit of rest.” The man said and pulled a water bottle from his pack. Shoving his handwritten sign of gratitude from the plastic container, it was filled up with water instead. “It’s a warm day, I doubt there are puddles around for you.”

It turned out, the man chattered a lot when he wasn’t playing. He was called Jaskier, had no real family to speak of and loved singing. There was an art to speaking a lot without saying much and Geralt knew Jaskier was a master. In the evening, when Jaskier packed up, Geralt couldn’t bring himself to take any of his coin.

“If you’re ever in the area, you’ll always have a blanket to rest on with me,” Jaskier promised and waved to Geralt. It was only then that Geralt realised that not once did Jaskier touch him.

Once a week, Geralt sought Jaskier out. It was oddly relaxing and on his third visit, Geralt found he had actually fallen into a deep sleep, trusting this stranger to keep him protected. Of course, the others teased him about it relentlessly. Late at night when they were all sprawled in their alley with a rare treat of beer Eskel had managed to snag, they laughed about Geralt’s crush.

“Fine. You go see if you can do better,” he grumbled.

From then on, the wolves took turns and each came back suitably cowed. Eskel had taken the first chance to go see Jaskier for himself. He’d come back subdued and quiet. “He told be about his White Wolf,” he’d said. “How I must be his brother because I’m just as handsome.”

There was nothing handsome about Eskel, or so he thought. His scarring in wolf and human form had his lip pulled up and, as a wolf, he looked like he was continually snarling, teeth bared.

“He wasn’t scared,” Eskel whispered in wonder.

Unable to believe it all, Lambert went to see Jaskier next. He only came back late at night and refused to say anything. It was only later the next night that he whispered to Eskel that he’d tried to goad Jaskier into hurting him, to prove a point. And he got belly rubs instead. Which were a lot nicer than anything Lambert had experienced in a long time, so he had to slink off and think for a few hours before returning home.

Vesemir still had his doubts. His three pups might have been taken in by the singing stranger but he was suspicious. Determined to get to the bottom of their infatuation, Vesemir set out to spy on Jaskier. It didn’t go as well as planned because he was spotted and beckoned over. Even worse, there were freshly bought treats in Jaskier’s pocket, coming out to appease him.

“You look like you could be their father,” Jaskier prattled, handing over another treat. “The same noble, ancient look they’ve got. Living on the streets is no easy feat and I imagine you’ve done it your whole lives. But your pack seem wonderful. You ought to be proud of your boys.”

Vesemir would have thought it all some great, cunning plan were it not for the fact that he could smell the street on Jaskier. Obviously he’d been sleeping in hostels or the like until recently. And yet there he was with the best treats he could afford for a bunch of stray dogs who he knew to be wolves.

From then on, Jaskier enjoyed the company of a wolf beside him for four of the seven days of the week. Geralt slept on the blanket, running and eating in his sleep. By contrast, Lambert was needy, demanding attention and petting, constantly by Jaskier’s feet. Eskel liked to lie calmly and watch, sometimes he’d howl along and get laughs. Occasionally trotting off and coming back with a snack or a drink for them, clutched carefully in his mouth. The first time he presented Jaskier with a sandwich, he man had looked both scandalised and then blissed out as he bit into it like he was starving. Vesemir was by far the calmest, he watched Jaskier rather than the crowds around them, keeping track of how things changed.

“He sleeps on the streets,” he told his pups one night. “I worry for him.”

They couldn’t find Jaskier though, it was a large city and there were a lot of places to hide. By pure luck, they were settling down into a tangle of limbs, tails and fur when they heard voices.

“Just hand it over and you’ll live.” A menacing voice growled.

“I can’t give you that. It’s how I make what little money I have. I’ve already offered you everything I can!” That was definitely Jaskier.

“Along these parts, our word is law. You’ve not paid your dues and now we’re raising fees.”

There was the soft thump of someone being struck and the smell of blood. The wolves were up on their feet as one, quietly padding closer to investigate. Jaskier was on his knees, guitar behind him along with his usual pack which looked like it had been rifled through already. Opposite him were three men, one of them with a nail studded baseball bat.

“I think you need to be taught a lesson,” the man snarled and raised the bat. It arced through the air and there was the sound of it striking flesh and a sharp whine of a wolf in pain rang through the alley.

“What the fuck?”

Geralt was laid flat on the floor and panting, white fur staining red. The other three wolves were snapping and growling at the attackers while Jaskier knelt and watched in awe. Lambert jumped first, jaw latching around the wrist holding the bat and shaking his head.

In two minutes, the attackers were running, bleeding and cursing and the alley was silent save for the panting of the wolves. Eskel and Vesemir shared a look as they approached Geralt. They shifted, ignoring the gasp of surprise from Jaskier.

“You need to shift, pup,” Vesemir stroked over Geralt’s head. “Let us get a better look.”

It took a moment longer but Geralt was human once again and wheezing.

“Fuck,” he gasped, hands clenched in fists.

“Let them sort it,” Lambert murmured from just behind Jaskier, making him jump. “It’ll be okay. Geralt’s just a drama queen.”

“A drama queen with broken ribs,” Eskel grumbled. “At least the nails didn’t puncture his lung.”

In all of that, Jaskier was quiet and surprisingly unafraid. Puzzled, most definitely but he didn’t panic or run.

“Will he be okay?” he asked, soft and worried.

“He’s a strong one, survived a lot worse.” The reassurance from Vesemir lifted a little of the tension. “Why aren’t you running and screaming?”

“Why should I? You saved my life and you’re the wolves I’ve known for weeks now. It’s nice that you can talk back now.”

That seemed to settle matters somehow. And the wolves got a fourth act in their repertoire. Now, Jaskier sang and busked with the protection of a wolf by his side at all times. And, when he returned back to the alley, he always shared his bounty with the others.

“And when I get famous, you’re all coming with me. We’ll tour the world together,” he promised each night from the centre of the wolf pile. It usually earned at least one tail thump or a chuffed out wolf-y laugh. The wolves might have indulged him in such fantasies but they were the ones who had to eat their words. A talent scout did indeed pick Jaskier up. Along with his four wolves who became his bodyguards.

Part 2 here.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #vesemir #witcher wolf pack #hurt/comfort #modern au #long post #tldr: the witcher wolf pack adopts busker jaskier #cw: mild injury #shifter au

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