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thesleepy1 · 3 years ago

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My King Shall Have Everything

A/N: A fuck load of people seemed to like my last Merthur fic. I even got a request for a sequel from @antobcq who wanted a 5+1 fic where Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap. I haven’t done one of these fics in ages but I’m down with this prompt. I also love the headcanon where Merlin is a better court member and adviser than Arthur and completely leaves Arthur in the dust during diplomatic meetings. Unbeta’d as always, we die like Arthur.

Extra note, this turned out much longer than I expected it to. This might be my longest fic yet. I didn’t mean for it to be like this but I spent too much time on it to just leave it alone. And much to my surprise, it’s a linear storyline as well. I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to give me some feedback. Do you prefer the linear storylines or short snippets of scenes? Also, kind of sorry for the slight angst. My bad. It got worse towards the end, I was getting really tired and wasn’t completely sure how to end it. It’s not on the highest note is all I’ll say.

Pairings: Merlin x Arthur, slight Gwen x Morgana

Summary: Five times Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap and one time where Merlin couldn’t get anything done without Arthur on his lap.

Word count: 10,485

Warnings: Lap sitting, fluff, physical touch, sexual content, grinding, angst, wounds, violence, character death, more warnings to be added, more tags to be added, proceed with caution, breeding kink, impregnation kink, mentions of dub/con, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, eugenics, blood, gore, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, whump, injuries, begging, character death, mentions of public executions, long fic, foul language, asphyxiation, strangulation, choking,

Arthur was good at many things, but being on time was not one of them. Especially, when at the end of the hall he had to attend a council meeting with some of the most stuck up people he had ever met, and that was saying something considering he had to spend the last winter with his extended family. His advisers had been up his ass all week about the new rising kingdom beyond the continent. A kingdom so far away, he had just heard of it several months prior. It was like the kingdom had appeared overnight, suddenly a new ink blotch taking over the lower side of the map.

Personally, he didn’t believe it was real in the first place, having a squadron of knights and hired mercenaries sail over to investigate this so-called Kingdom of Le Lubrique. Much to his disbelief, they didn’t come back empty handed and instead returned with a message. A greeting, as his advisers and Merlin had called it.

To Arthur, it was merely stiff aristocrats getting together in too large a room to talk about dull nonsense. Something he had enough of in his own kingdom. Every other month he was already forced to put on a brave face and converse with the other ruling kings and queens of the continent; he didn’t need another to add on to the mix. He already loathed the balls he was required to host.

“You’re late,” Merlin hissed at him as he entered through a side door so as to not alert the others of his presence.

“That’s kind of the point of me coming here long after the time I was supposed to, Merlin,” Arthur rolled his eyes, sneaking behind the other advisers present to his seat. Merlin begrudgingly followed right on his tail.

“This is serious Arthur, you should have been here ten minutes ago!” Merlin nagged a tad too loudly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great king of Camelot himself. I’m delighted to see you have graced us with the honor of your belated attendance,” said an adviser from the guest kingdom with a tone that made Arthur want to stab him, wars be damned.

“I hope you could excuse my tardiness just this once,” Arthur began, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. He looked over to Merlin for help, but the warlock looked clueless as usual. “It...was just that I was caught up with...making sure my...uh...husband’s family were making themselves at home. The in-laws are visiting, you see. You know how hard it can be to keep them happy.”

Merlin looked like he wanted to hang Arthur with his own entrails at the king’s quick thinking. Camelot’s advisers seemed to be considering throwing themselves from the window. And the guest advisers seemed content with Arthur’s answer; though not pleased.

“Oh, believe me,” one of them began, a tall woman with high cheekbones and piercing brown eyes, “I know exactly how tiring in-laws can be.” She let out a high pitched laugh like the sound of dying blue jays; the sound made Arthur want to join his advisers as they inched towards the open windows.

“Well, yes, hahaha, they can be quite a hassle. Especially people that are related to my husband here,” Arthur clapped his hands, smiling at Merlin as he took his seat at the head of the table, “Shall we properly begin then?”

Arthur truly and wholeheartedly regretted agreeing to the whole thing. It was hour after hour of mindless words with little to no meaning. They just went on and on about things that meant little to nothing. He tried to tune out their voices but the tall woman’s laugh was like the crack of a whip, bringing him back to reality each time someone made a vaguely funny comment.

“Are you alright, Arthur?” Merlin said in a hushed tone next to his side. Concern had brought his dark eyebrows together. Arthur was tempted to take his fingers and smooth out Merlin’s worry, but perhaps that was too intimate an act for a meeting. Then again, when did Arthur care about what other people thought of him and his husband.

“I’m fine, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, “Just so bored with all of this.”

“How could you be bored? Have you been listening to half of what they’ve been saying? For a kingdom so small they have so much potential. Their farmlands double ours, as well as their ores, and their medicine is even on par to Gaius’s.” Merlin continued on with such a light in his eyes that Arthur was distracted like a moth to a glowing flame.

“Arthur, have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”

The king shook his head softly, slightly ashamed for not paying attention to his husband. “I’m sorry. I’m just so distracted. I need something to ground me if I’m going to survive another dreadful hour of this,” he groaned, thinking over if the fall from the window would kill him or lethally wound him. Either way, he’d be away from this horror with Merlin at his bedside playing nurse. At the private thought, an idea crossed his mind that had him delighted.

“You know what would help me?” Arthur began, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“What?” Merlin gave him a suspicious look, having seen the grin on the king many times before.

“It’ll really help if you were on my lap.” Merlin gave him an incredulous glare, ready to smack him across the back of the head for such a suggestion during such a crucial conference. “Please, Merlin? You really do help me focus.”

The warlock seemed to be thinking over Arthur’s request, a frown twisting his face. He looked like he was going to say no, but the pleading look on Arthur’s face made him change his mind. “Just this once. I don’t want to make a habit of this, Arthur,” Merlin warned in a hurried voice.

“Just this once,” Arthur lied through his teeth.

The second king of Camelot sat himself on the first, his side pressed against Arthur’s chest. Arthur wound his arm around Merlin and held him tightly. The action seemed to have garnered the attention of the visitors who looked at the pair strangely. And for some odd reason, the visiting ladies of the guest kingdom seemed to be glaring intently at Merlin.

“We are ever so sorry to be boring you, your majesty, but there is still much to discuss,” a visiting high lord coughed, glaring at the pair. “I apologize that our talk of declining population, racial biases against commoners and sorcerers, and ever so low birth rates have made you tired, but considering it may be the undoing of Le Lubrique, I deem it vital,” he practically snarled.

Arthur’s grip on Merlin tightened, his other hand palming Merlin’s thighs. The warlock couldn’t hide the grin that was stretched across his beautiful face at the touch. The king absolutely loved that grin. Arthur glared right back at those who dared question his behavior, for him showing his love for his king. He sounded in a stern voice that left no room for argument, “No apologies needed. Please, continue.”

“Don’t let us disturb you,” Merlin added with a more snarky tone, commanding the same amount of respect. “You have our full attention.”

-----

“Must I attend? You’ll be there, is that not enough?” Arthur whined as Merlin buttoned up his shirt.

“We are hosting a party in the Kingdom of Le Lubrique’s honor. Their queen has traveled all the way here to properly meet us,” Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s cheek for the effort. “Must I continue?”

“Only if you wish, my dear,” Arthur pointed to his other cheek, waiting for the same treatment as the other.

Merlin rolled his eyes, pressing another kiss to Arthur. “I’m serious, Arthur, this could mean an all out war or the strongest of ally ship. I mean, have you read the reports of what their kingdom is like? It sounds, and excuse for my word choice but there really is no other way to describe it; magical. I would love to visit the country myself. If we make a good impression they might invite us for a stay,” he continued, tying a red handkerchief with Camelot’s crest around his own neck.

“And that’s why the second king of Camelot would be in attendance.”

Merlin left Arthur in their room after that, knowing that Arthur would follow him. “Are you really going to make me sit there and listen to them go on and on about their plan to repopulate their country, or over tax their people for the food that’s in abundance? Come on, Merlin, we could have our council handle it.” Arthur stepped in front of Merlin to block his way. “Why don’t we head back to our room and make this a more entertaining night?” he wiggled his eyebrows to make sure Merlin got his point.

Merlin heard him loud and clear and rightfully ignored Arthur’s attempt to get into his pants. He sidestepped the man to continue on his path, turning a corner to the ballroom. “Do you hear yourself? What kind of impression would that give Le Lubrique if you just suddenly disappeared?!” Arthur turned to run back to their room just to prove Merlin’s point, but the warlock quickly magicked him back to his side. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

And that was how Arthur ended up sitting on his throne, bored out of his mind and unwilling to be civil or sociable when he could have spent the entire evening snuggled inside Merlin. He could have been in bed by now, having Merlin moaning his name underneath him, but instead Arthur watched as the guest and court mingled and danced. The instrumentalists bobbed their heads in tune to their upbeat song.

Despite refusing to speak to anyone besides Morgana, and Merlin, and occasionally Gwen when she could spare a moment from dancing; he had learned quite a bit about their guests. The fact that although they had a vast amount of farmlands, they had little people to work in them. Which came as a shock to Arthur because he had learned earlier on that Le Lubrique consisted of mostly sorcerers.

Le Lubrique’s queen was the tall woman with a voice that made Arthur’s ears bleed. Her lady in waiting seemed to be a distant relative from their shared trait of high cheekbones, drowning brown eyes, and dark hair. The two were glued at the hip, her lady in waiting obsessively trailing behind her like a newborn duckling wherever they went. They were both strong magic users if Merlin’s gushing was anything to go by. And also very beautiful with fancy perfume that complimented each other so nicely that they smelt like heaven, from Merlin’s words of course, not his. If Arthur didn’t know any better, he would think Merlin fancied them; the queen and her lady in waiting.

Even when the queen was dancing with a number of council members, the servant would be right next to her. It was quite amusing to watch them struggle to sway in time with the music. Arthur had already made bets with Gwen on the number of times party guests would refuse dances with the pair because they refused to separate. So far Arthur was winning.

That was until the queen smugly asked Merlin for a dance. Her lady in waiting immediately stepped away like someone had called for her assistance, leaving the queen alone with Merlin. Much to Arthur’s disappointment, Merlin happily accepted the dance. He took the queen’s hand and off they went, twirling around as if they were the only ones in the room. His hands on her shoulder and waist, her hands virtually tearing his clothes from his chest.

The way the queen of Le Lubrique looked at Merlin made a sick feeling build up from the pit of Arthur’s stomach. She was undressing him with her eyes, the brown in her gaze turning an almost pitch black from lust. The woman said something that made Merlin taken aback, something about dragons and druids, but it was hard to hear from the chatter of the room. For all Arthur knew, it could have very well been a spell.

Merlin recovered quickly with a grin and laugh that had Arthur’s heart skipping a beat. Then the two of them had the audacity to continue dancing as if nothing had happened, the queen still shamelessly pulling at Merlin’s fine clothes that only Arthur was allowed to rip away.

Arthur didn’t know why Merlin didn’t stop the queen when she pulled his handkerchief from his neck. The king was almost killed for even playing with Merlin’s handkerchief and now this woman was doing the same without losing an arm and a leg? Completely unfair. That was proof in itself, she had casted a spell on Merlin.

“Merlin,” Arthur called out to his husband sternly only to be ignored once more. “Merlin,” Arthur stepped away from his throne, making his way towards his husband and the queen.

“I think you should go to bed before things get ugly,” Morgana gently warned Gwen, gesturing towards Arthur’s outburst. “It could either go well or we’ll die of secondhand embarrassment.”

“Thank you for your concern, my love,” Gwen replied with a smirk, “But I want to see how this unfolds.”

Morgana laughed at that, glancing between Arthur and Merlin. “Suit yourself.”

The two high ladies watched as Arthur pulled Merlin away from the queen of Le Lubrique, dragging him away from the woman as she stared on in horror. To Gwen's and Morgana’s surprise, the queen tried to pull Merlin back into her arms. Merlin seemed to be in a daze throughout the whole skirmish. His eyes glazed over, even from afar.

“Should we step in?” Gwen asked with concern, ready to intervene.

“Arthur can handle it, probably.”

The queen called her lady in waiting to help her. Three heads tugged at poor Merlin like he was flax rope at a kingdom fair. The lady in waiting tried to block Arthur from getting a good grip on Merlin while the queen tried to take more of Merlin’s clothes off. A crowd was forming and Morgana distinctively noticed coins being passed around in bets.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Oh, It's just getting good,” Morgana grinned like a Cheshire cat. “How much are you willing to bet, my beloved?”

Finally, as the crowd began cheering, Arthur twisted out of the lady in waiting’s grip and grabbed hold of Merlin’s waist. The king lifted the warlock up in a bridal carry and turned on his heel for his throne, the crowd parting in heckles and laughs. Arthur blatantly ignored them, sitting down on his throne with Merlin in his lap. Unfortunately, he was unable to retrieve Merlin’s handkerchief, a matter he will surely not hear the end of for quite some time. But between a measly piece of fabric and Merlin’s life, Arthur would choose Merlin time and time again, his own life be damned.

Taking a moment to throw a sneer at Gwen and Morgana who were snickering, Arthur tried to shake Merlin out of the haze. “Are you alright, Merlin?” He stroked Merlin’s arms gently, trying to bring him back to the present. His blue gray eyes were a stormy glaze, seemingly out of it. It made an ugly feeling swirl around in Arthur’s head, the fact that some queen had touched his Merlin in such a way made Arthur sick.

Merlin shuddered in Arthur’s hold, looking down at himself and then at the ballroom floor where others had returned to dancing. Confusion crossed his face, “Of course, I’m alright,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “How did I get here?” Merlin rubbed at his temple, trying to soothe the ache that had formed there.

“Arthur carried you like the jealous brute he is,” Morgana explained, passing Gwen a handful of coins.

“Jealous brute?” Merlin questioned, looking at the trio for a real explanation.

Arthur was about to defend himself when a member of Le Lubrique’s court approached them. “Haha, I couldn’t help but notice the spectacle that you put on there, sire,” the man addressed Merlin.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow.”

The man laughed again, mirth in his eyes. “I guess you wouldn’t,” he said vaguely, “The queen does have a way with words.”

“What do you mean by that?” Arthur butted in, holding Merlin a tad too tight. Merlin squirmed in Arthur’s lap but Arthur seemed to hardly notice.

“Well, you are a warlock, aren’t you, sire?” the man addressed Merlin once more. Merlin nodded despite himself. “A warlock as well as a dragonlord under the queen’s attention is bound to feel the efforts of her magic. And her special attention for that matter, hahaha.”

“Sorry,” Merlin began, more confused than before. “What do you mean by that expactly?”

“Our queen is a lovely dragon tamer. Her family is the last of their kind. Although taming a dragon is much easier when you have someone who can speak to the creatures,” the man laughed as if telling a joke only he knew the punchline to and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Least to say, the rest of the night Arthur didn’t let Merlin out of his sight. He had no idea what a dragon tamer was and Merlin seemed as lost as he was, but he wasn’t taking any chances. No one was going to “tame” his lover. Whatever that meant. Morgana and Gwen could laugh and call him jealous all they want, Arthur only had Merlin’s best interest at heart.

“I doubt having me be a lap warmer is in my best interest.”

-----

It had been weeks and Arthur naively thought they were done interacting with the kingdom of Le Lubrique. He had hoped to be finished with the rising kingdom, to leave them alone as long as they left him be.

He was rarely fortunate these days. Never even.

Apparently, Merlin was not deterred by almost being kidnapped by the queen and her lady in waiting. Merlin even said he enjoyed their company and their attention to his every breathing word. Arthur loved the man, but sometimes he could be quite an idiot.

Merlin, without Arthur’s knowledge, had invited a member of Le Lubrique’s court to stay at the castle. Who else to volunteer to come to Camelot but the queen’s lady in waiting. She was only supposed to be in the kingdom for a couple of weeks, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. That couple of weeks turned into a couple of months and eventually the woman practically lived there. She had made herself at home on day one, much to Arthur’s dismay. He couldn’t really kick her out without making a bad impression towards her kingdom, despite what her queen had already done.

He was a king. Much to his reluctance, he had to act like it. And that meant acting like you liked people that you hated to the core.

“And these are our forests,” Arthur gestured to the thick wall of trees that signified the beginning of the woods. “I typically take neighboring kings hunting here. If you’re interested, we can go if you’d like.”

Sylvy, the lady in waiting, sat on her horse with her head held high. For someone with a position like her’s, she acted like she was queen herself. Arthur had spent the whole day trying to show her around for the utmost time. She was never satisfied with what he showed her, as if she were looking for a break in the walls of the kingdom.

Every morning she demanded to be taken around on a tour and every afternoon she was left with a deep frown on her face. Nothing made her happy it seemed, and Arthur had truly tried to make her feel at the very least, welcomed. It was just so difficult to do so with the knowledge of what she had done to Merlin. Had enchanted him, put him in a daze of some sort.

If Camelot still had the ban on magic, she would’ve been dead the moment she laid a hand on Merlin. On the crown’s orders, she would have been hung or burned, some form of public execution. Her dark hair would go up in flames as the fire burned higher and higher, her head would hang low as the bucket was kicked out underneath her. Arthur was still considering having her prisoned for what she did and simply explained to her queen that there had been a freak accident. If he were a lesser man, a lesser king, he would’ve done so and let it be a warning.

“I despise hunting as a sport, it’s just mindlessly cruel,” she snarled, her lips curling as a show of disdain. She held the reins to her horse like a vice, afraid that she’d be ripped from the saddle and forced to participate in such barbaric practices. At least, that was what Arthur thought was swimming through her mind.

“Yes, yes, but some like the adrenaline rush of a good hunt,” Arthur explained without real passion, merely a form of continuing the dry conversation. Sylvy had woken him up so early that morning he barely had a chance to give Merlin a goodbye kiss. “Some have to do it to survive.”

“There are other ways to live,” Sylvy began, urging her horse to turn by towards the main part of the kingdom, seeing as they were on the outskirts. “Le Lubrique for one replies solely on farmlands. We have no need for meat or the slaughtering of innocent animals. Everyone can live without such a horrible act; people and sorcerers alike. Meat is simply murder.”

Arthur half heartedly nodded, trailing behind her while trying not to fall off his horse. “I can’t argue with you there.” He didn’t want to argue with about anything her to be truthful, he had had enough of that already.

They traveled at a moderate trot in silence before she spoke up again. “Why haven't you invited me to a council meeting? I’ve been here for ages. Surely you have these sorts of things at least once a month.” She tried to act nonchalantly, but Arthur could see right through her. “I mean, there must be all sorts of things to discuss. An heir to the throne for one, seeing as neither you nor king Merlin can bear children.”

“We just haven’t had any council meetings, nothing interesting to report that couldn’t be done with a quill and parchment is all,” Arthur lied with a fake smile she could not see. “And an heir doesn’t need to be of blood. They just need to be taught how to properly command a kingdom like a fair and just ruler. To know what’s best for a kingdom, who to trust and who to leave behind in the woods.”

A look of abhorrence lingered on Sylvy’s face at Arthur’s words, bothered that he would even say such a thing. But Arthur was right, it didn’t matter if his heir was not his child as long as they were just and fair to all that passed them. Arthur could only imagine what Le Lubrique was like if all their subjects thought the same way Sylvy did. It must be all out war for them if a bastard appeared in court one day; though in reality royal bastards were a dime a dozen.

Sylvy went quiet for a moment, calculating her words while mulling over what Arthur had said. “With a kingdom as large as yours, surely there’s action all around? Suitable women all around. Something worthwhile must have happened during my stay,” her voice took on a tone that Arthur didn’t like, a light flush painting her cheeks like some teenage girl with a crush, “What about king Merlin?”

“What about my husband?”

“What has he been up to?” Sylvy asked indifferently, trying to hide her curiosity from Arthur. If only she would try to hide that damn blush. Merlin was physically attractive, Arthur knew this as an undeniable fact, but to be so unabashed while in front of the man’s husband? What was he? The first king of Camelot reduced to chop liver. Unbelievable!

“Well, he’s the second king of Camelot. A king’s job is never done. There is always more work than one man can handle. I should know, I used to be the one doing all the work.”

They reached town just as Sylvy took on an accusatory tone, “Then what are you doing here?”

Arthur resisted the urge to strangle her in front of so many people. His fists clenched around his reins so hard his knuckles turned ivory. “I’m showing you around, just as you had requested,” Arthur gritted through his teeth, trying so very hard not to glare at her.

“And here I was, hoping to attend a meeting with the second king.”

“Really now?” Arthur could feel the mare under him shuffle on her hooves at his fury. “You know what? There might be one later today.” What he had planned was so unbelievably petty and a tad childish, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. Sylvy was getting on his last nerve. “I’ll have a servant call you when it’s time. For now, why don’t you explore our lovely town by yourself? Walk around without a king hovering over you and all. That way, I could get back to doing my job.”

Sylvy brightened up in spite of Arthur’s words. A smile was forming on her face, her high cheekbones pushed up even farther. Her brown eyes crinkled at the notion that she’ll be able to see Merlin. “I can’t wait,” she said, unsaddling and handing the reins to her horse to Arthur. “I must get ready,” she said to herself loud enough for Arthur to hear.

“Take all the time you need.”

Arthur would regret those words later that night when he sat among his advisers. Sylvy, their honored guest was over half an hour late and the others were beginning to feel on edge. Many of them were not planned for a meeting so soon after the one they had earlier that week. It was an unprompted get together for the lady in waiting’s sake, Arthur had explained to them.

On days like these Arthur was glad he was king and that there’d be grave consequences if he were murdered by one of his advisers. They would be in the right to do so, kill him that is; but he was hoping to live long enough to raise a couple of children with Merlin.

“Why are we doing this, Arthur?” Merlin asked, hiding a yawn with his hand. While Arthur was riding around the kingdom with Le Lubrique’s queen’s lady in waiting, Merlin was left to run the kingdom by himself. The haunted task of commanding and keeping an eye on so many people was taking its toll on the sorcerer. Merlin hadn’t properly slept in days, too busy keeping the kingdom in one piece.

“Sylvy wanted to be present for a council meeting. As a member of Le Lubrique’s court, we have to answer to her call until her stay is up.” Merlin gave him a look that called Arthur out on his poorly constructed plan. “And I may or may not want her to know that you’re taken.”

Merlin rolled his eyes along with most of the present court. They should all be used to Arthur’s antics at this point. What were they expecting? An honest to god meeting to discuss important topics with their visitor from foreign lands? Never. A fake meeting just so Arthur could flaunt the fact that Merlin loved him and not some conceited queen and her lady in waiting? That was more like it.

“Sometimes I can’t believe I asked you to marry me,” Merlin yawned again, giving Arthur a tired look in more ways than one.

“Feels just like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“More like a nightmare.”

“You love me,” Arthur opened up his arms so Merlin could take his place on the king’s lap. Merlin shook his head at the gesture, so incredibly done with Arthur. “Come on, Merlin. You know you like it here.” He teasingly patted his lap. “You can rest until our guest arrives.”

“Fine,” Merlin said begrudgingly after a moment of hesitation, his mind clouded by the want for sleep. “But you better wake me up when she comes.”

“Of course,” Arthur assured, inviting Merlin over once more. This time Merlin made himself home on Arthur’s lap, his head going to rest on Arthur’s chest. He curled in Arthur’s lap like second nature, having done this so many times over the years. Arthur wrapped his arms around the younger man, making sure he was supported and comfortable. Merlin fit perfectly nonetheless. Within moments, a soft snoring sound could be heard from the man on Arthur’s lap, content in where he sat. The second king finally got the rest he deserved. “I wouldn’t wake you for the world,” Arthur whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Merlin’s arm and leg.

Another half an hour passed achingly slowly without the esteemed lady in waiting’s presence. Arthur was about to call off the whole thing and make his way to his bedchamber when at last, the doors to the room opened to reveal Sylvy. She was no longer dressed in her usual servant attire with its cream apron and blue gray dress. Instead she had ransacked the queen’s wardrobe, wearing something befitting a ball.

The dress was elegant and detailed with silk and satin; a deep shade of bourbon that brought out her brown eyes. Her hand was even done up in cascading dark curls that perfectly fell from the knot atop her head. A glittering wine hair piece sat nestled against her hair, matching perfectly with the studs in her ears. She was beautiful even without the time spent enhancing what was already there, but now she stood ready to rule a kingdom.

Sylvy took her seat across from where Merlin would have sat. “Where is king Merlin?” she asked, not noticing that the man in question was currently sleeping on Arthur’s lap.

“I’m sorry for how unprepared we were, but I can relate to your troubles of not having enough hands to run a kingdom. My husband had taken the task of ruling all alone while I tended to your needs.” Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s hair when he stirred in his sleep, continuing on his over sweetened words. “He’s beyond exhausted, but still wanted to take part in our meeting. Please understand that he really did try his best to stay awake.”

The emotions that crossed Sylvy’s face came in a blur; she was unreadable. But one thing was for sure, Arthur had won this small battle. He had shoved Merlin’s unquestionable favor for him in the lady in waiting’s face. Merlin was his and his alone. For good measure Arthur pressed a deep kiss onto Merlin’s lips, the sorcerer smiling in his sleep.

His advisers on the other hand felt cheated. If the death glares shot his way were anything to go by. Though there was one from Sylvy as well. A lot of people wanted him dead at the moment. But he was perfectly happy. They could string him up after the meeting for all he cared, the unintelligible look on Sylvy’s face was worth it. She was utterly speechless.

“I’m ever so sorry we were late to start, but would you like to commence this meeting?” Arthur asked like a gentleman with a cocky grin, making sure to stare right at Le Lubrique’s envoy.

-----

When Sylvy left Arthur rejoiced. She was finally out of his hair. Things could go back to normal and he could go back to spending his free time with Merlin instead of on horseback through a bare orchard. No matter how many times Arthur explained to Sylvy that their crops were not aided by magic like Le Lubrique’s, Sylvy insisted on seeing their “mortal” development.

Everything was put back into its rightful place. He couldn’t wait to put everything about Le Lubrique behind him and move on.

He was back on the throne with Merlin, leading the kingdom just as they were before the whole ordeal with Le Lubrique. Their advisers especially liked the fact that Arthur was back with Merlin; it meant less work for them. The moment that Sylvy left their grounds, Camelot’s advisers piled parchment after novel after demands on his table.

Those selfish bastards.

The so-called requests were so thick that Merlin didn’t even make a sarcastic comment comparing it to Arthur’s ass, and, or his thick skull; the warlock simply went to work. If Arthur himself wasn’t already terrified of the workload, he would have shocked himself to the grave at Merlin’s willingness to submit to their advisers. The two kings of Camelot knew when they met their match.

What felt like weeks passed where Arthur and Merlin did nothing but what their advisers ordered. They were slaves to their own court. The two didn’t leave their room for anything, not food, not training, not even a breath of fresh air. Their knights would occasionally knock on their door to make sure they were both still alive, but once the knights of the round table had been turned down a couple dozen times, they stopped caring. Merlin and Arthur shut off the world. They were practically locked in there, all because of their own doing.

Well, mostly Merlin’s doing. He was the one who invited the envoy over and wanted to make peace with the new kingdom. Arthur had nothing to do with that prolonged visit from the devil, he was only paying the price. His hands ached like it had been shorn off at the wrists, his back screaming for him to rest. He didn’t remember the last time he touched his bed, the neatly tucked in linens calling him to slumber. But he couldn’t, neither of them could until their work was done. Their kingdom depended on it and their kingdom came first, Arthur and Merlin’s comfort second. They both knew what they had signed up for when they decided to wed.

“A-Arthur,” Merlin groaned late one night, the sun mere minutes from the horizon.

Arthur immediately looked up from his book, putting his full attention on Merlin who was on the other side of the room. Neither of them had talked in days besides the few grunts they exchanged while passing over important text. The fact that Merlin was straining his voice now meant something serious was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur coughed, his throat parched and dry as a desert.

“I-I-” Merlin began, rubbing harshly at his hurt eyes, “I think that’s the last one.” The sorcerer signed one more parchment with a flick of his wrist, setting it aside to dry along with the rest.

And the thing was, Merlin was right. There was no more work to go through, to tirelessly read; everything was finally done. “I’m so tired I don’t think I can see straight, b-but that was it!”

“What?”

“We’re finished, you clophole," Merlin smiled, taking Arthur’s breath away.

Arthur leapt out of his seat, pure joy masking the aches and pains as he rushed over to Merlin’s side. The king pulled the sorcerer from his chair, lifting the man into the air, Arthur kissed Merlin like it was their wedding day. Deep and full of all the longing he had for the man, grasping at him as if he could protect Merlin from the world.

He only pulled back for air, inhaling lungfuls before pressing his lips back against Merlin’s. Arthur missed his husband so damn much despite having worked across the room for each other. He hadn’t touched the other man in ages, it was heaven to feel his heartbeat beneath his pained fingers. To kiss down Merlin’s pale neck and mark him until the whole castle knew exactly what they had been up to. To pull at Merlin’s clothes, ripping his tunic right off of his chest, the buttons flying across the room.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, gently pushing Arthur back so he could speak. “I liked that shirt.”

Arthur thumbed at Merlin’s trousers, holding his hips tight enough to leave marks that Merlin would feel for days to come. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“But my mother made me that one,” Merlin complained, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck. His strong hand went to cup Arthur’s cheek, making the king look at him. Forcing the king to calm down and evaluate things. “We have to get something to eat too, dear,” Merlin told Arthur in a loving tone. “We’re both too exhausted for this.”

“I’m never too tired for you,” Arthur bit back, leaning into Merlin’s hand. He may have been putting his weight on Merlin’s desk so as to not fall over, but Merlin didn’t need to know that. Arthur could most definitely ravage Merlin while on the brink of death.

Merlin pulled Arthur close to kiss him softly, “If we go to bed now, then we can spend all of next day together,” Merlin tried to bargain, eyes teary from lack of any sort of sleep. “You’re going to hurt yourself, you ass,” he chuckled with a small smile that made his eyes crinkle with mirth.

“I don’t want to,” Arthur whined, “I’ve worked for weeks on end. Now I want my reward for behaving.” Arthur sat back on Merlin’s desk, pulling the man on top of him. The desk groaned under their combined weight, but Arthur hardly cared when he had Merlin on his lap and straddling his thighs. “You’re all I want.” He embraced Merlin, the warlock half naked and moaning as Arthur kissed along his arm. His mouth sucked at Merlin’s skin, teeth leaving markings on pale skin claiming Merlin as his. Arthur worshiped Merlin until his stormy eyes were hazy with unabated lust.

“Just you….”

Arthur slumped forward, out like a dying candle before he even knew it. Merlin had to stifle a laugh, though he doubted anything would wake Arthur then. The king was out cold, snoring like there was no tomorrow. Too bad Merlin had to carry his fat ass over to their bed. The warlock was beginning to rethink their plans for tomorrow. Sometimes he wished Arthur wasn’t such a stubborn ass and listened to him. It would save them both the trouble, Merlin was right most of the time after all.

“Get some rest, you oaf,” Merlin said to the asleep man, tucking him into their bed. Arthur’s blonde hair was like a halo against their stark white pillow, the dark bags underneath his eyes a contrast with the paleness of his skin. His old tunic was a dull red from overuse, the buttons holding onto the fabric for dear life. Merlin stripped Arthur of his boats and stuffy tunic leaving both men in their trousers. A much better way to sleep if anyone asked.

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear, snuggling up against the king. He threw the blankets over himself and laid on Arthur’s chest. The pull of sleep had Merlin out just as quickly, the moment he allowed his breath to even out, there was nothing that would stop him from getting the well earned sleep that he so needed.

“Rest well, Merlin,” Arthur answered in a murmur, pulling Merlin in close. “Sweet dreams, you idiot.”

-----

“Arthur, calm down and try to see reason!” Merlin all but yelled at the king without his crown. The man in question was in his knight gear, armor and chainmail strapped tightly to his body for protection. His sword hung to his side, within reach at all times. Arthur could feel something ominous looming on the horizon, it was Merlin who was still seeing the world with rose colored glasses.

“I tried to see reason. I tried to play nice. And this is what I get in return,” Arthur gestured to the pile of charred wood on the round table. Wood that was once the homes of innocent farmers who played no part in the altercations of royals. People that Arthur was supposed to protect, their livelihoods and homes included. “We were nothing but good to them and this is what happened. Dozens of houses burned to nothing overnight!”

“We have to act now, Merlin.”

“Going in there with your swords raised in offence isn’t going to do anything but start an all out war,” Merlin insisted, urging Arthur to reel himself in, to not lash out at the closest thing. If it were anyone else Merlin would have already smacked them over the head for raising their voice at him. Unfortunately, Merlin was sleeping with the man and didn’t want to be smothered in his sleep. “That’s what Le Lubrique wants; a reason to fight. We can’t give them that.”

“Then what exactly do you expect us to do, Merlin?” Gwen piped in across the table from Merlin. Morgana stood to her side, eyes darting between all the speakers in a frenzy. “They attacked first. It’s only right that we return what they have given us.” Gwen picked up a piece of wood, charcoal rubbing off on her hands as she turned it over. “Arthur is right, we just can’t sit idle.”

Merlin stared at Gwen, hoping that she would be on his side on this. She solemnly shook her head, denying her friend’s offer. Gwen wanted to go on the offence just as much as Arthur, her friends were harmed when Le Lubrique’s soldiers set fire to a section of the kingdom. They burned down acres of farmland, dozens of homes with children and elderly. Luckily, nobody was killed in the process but many were harmed. Gwen wanted vengeance for them. She was a loyal ruler, loyal to her people.

“And we won’t,” Merlin bargained, “We won’t let them gain any more than they already have. No one here knows exactly what they want from us, but we do know that they’re willing to play dirty to get it,” he went on, talking with his hands to release some of the tension. “Let me be a spy and-”

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“No,” Arthur said firmly, daring Merlin to argue. “You stay right here with me. I will not have you risking your life for measly information.”

“It's not measly information, Arthur. It could be the difference between thousands dead and a simple treaty. We don’t know what Le Lubrique wants, but if we do, we could try to bargain with them. No blood needs to be shed,” Merlin tried, laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, forcing the man to look at him. “The queen wants me. She made that very clear. She won’t hurt me if she thinks I’m on her side.”

Arthur stared at Merlin, watching the sorcerer for any sign of hesitation. When he saw nothing of the sort Arthur sat down in his chair with a huff. Merlin really wanted to do this. Spy work is equal to a as rushing in with their flag flying and swords shining; both could end with Merlin buried six feet under. Even the implication had Arthur feeling like hell.

“How am I supposed to get anything done with you gone?” Arthur questioned genuinely, much to the snickers of the knights and ladies. “I can’t function without you,” this was whispered softly to Merlin, just for Merlin.

The anger and stress dissipated from Merlin’s eyes, his shoulders slacked in resignation. Realization slowly but surely dawned on the sorcerer. Arthur was simply afraid. The first king of Camelot was worried, on the brink of tears from it if anyone looked close enough. Merlin rolled his eyes, even after all these years Arthur was still undoubtedly the same.

Without a care for the other people in the room, Merlin sat down on Arthur’s lap, hands on the other’s chest to stabilize himself. Merlin leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, cradling his jaw like it was something breakable. “Everything will be alright, Arthur. I can protect myself just fine,” Merlin reassured in a careful voice, stroking Arthur’s cheek. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always feel empty without you, Merlin." Arthur pulled Merlin in for another kiss, this one deeper than the last. The two only pulled away for air and even then they went back for more. They couldn’t have enough of the other, constantly needing to feel the other person. A give and take only the other could provide. “What am I supposed to do if you don’t return?” Arthur asked quietly, resting his forehead on Merlin’s. “How am I supposed to live?”

“I promise to you, you’ll never have to find out. You’re stuck with me," Merlin smirked, running his fingers through Arthur’s hair. "Till death do us part, darling.”

Arthur wished he could believe Merlin’s promise. He swore on his mother’s grave that if Merlin fulfilled his promise that he’ll listen to everything Merlin has to say. He’ll never question Merlin again, never talk back to the warlock, shove his stubbornness down and never speak of it again. Arthur would have done anything for Merlin, only the man asked.

Not a month later Arthur received news in the form of a messenger. Le Lubrique had declared war on any who dared try to take the last living dragonlord from them. Merlin was theirs, they stated, the dragonlord belonged to dragon tamers. The two are vital for the continuation of dragons in the old religion. One to gain their trust, the other to keep the creatures in chains where they belong. Any and all who tried to take away their dragonlord would be faced with lethal consequences.

At that Arthur sent the messenger to be put into the stocks. Lethal consequences. Arthur will show them just how deadly he could be. Le Lubrique will pay, a month without Merlin was torture but if they dared to lay a hand on Merlin they would all burn. Gwen was absolutely right, Arthur required vengeance, he wanted them all to feel just what angering Camelot will do, what angering him will do.

And after making such a claim over Merlin’s life, Arthur will show them no mercy. Le Lubrique had declared war on Camelot and Arthur would answer tenfold.

------

It took around two weeks for Arthur to prepare for battle against a kingdom full of sorcerers. Another week was spent traveling with his soldiers over land and sea. Through it all he couldn’t help but be eaten alive by the nagging feeling that he was too late. That he would arrive only to find ash; bones if he was lucky. Day and night he was slowly being killed by the fact that he could very well be walking into his husband’s grave.

“He’s going to be okay,” Morgana reassured him one day as he leaned against the railing of their ship. They were perhaps an hour if not less from shore and Arthur hadn’t slept a wink. He could feel exhaustion mixing with the worry brewing in his mind, ready to overflow at a single inconvenience. His sword was once again at his side, the memory making everything so much worse. “Merlin will be teasing you for worrying so much if he were here.”

“But he isn’t, is he, Morgana?” Arthur said more harshly than he intended. “He could already be dead for all we know.” And it would be all Arthur’s fault, though he kept that notion to himself. By the look on Morgana’s face, she must have been thinking the same thing.

“It's not your fault, Arthur. Merlin chose to go on his own free will.”

“But I was the one who allowed it,” Arthur bit back, standing straight on his feet. “I sent him to his death.”

“You don’t know that,” Morgana crossed her arms. She should be used to Arthur’s self destructive behavior but even this was getting too much for her. “If what that messenger said was true, Merlin’s probably being pampered to death.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to have said because Arthur’s despair did not lighten. It seemed to have gotten worse. “What if he likes it better with Le Lubrique’s court? I’m no warlock, I can’t compete with their magic!”

“Arthur, you’re overthinking this,” Morgana was done with Arthur’s antics. She was ready to gag him and throw him in the ship’s makeshift prison cell until they had properly docked. “Merlin will run right into your arms the moment he sees you. I’m willing to bet on it, just you wait and see. Merlin loves-”

At Morgana’s silence, Arthur looked over to the direction of her gaze. Their ship was making speed but Arthur suddenly wished they had stopped right where they were and sink. The sight took Arthur’s breath away, making his blood go cold. Le Lubrique was burning and it looked like it had been burning for a very long time. There was no shoreside to speak of, just endless flickering flames. Where the castle should have been standing tall like a beacon was nothing but flames, ruble, and ash.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled even though his voice would not carry that far. “Merlin!” he called again, his heart sinking to his stomach. He wanted to drown at sea. He never wanted to reach the shore, to be lost in the ocean and never have to face what he already knew was there. The absence of what he knew should’ve been. “Merlin!” he shouted even though it was futile.

“Arthur, please!” Morgana struggled to pull him back from the side, afraid he’ll jump and swim the rest of the way himself. Or worse. “Just an hour, please. That’s all you have to wait for. You- you don’t know for sure.” Even Morgana was not so sure of her words, the picture in front of them was hard to paint as lies.

“I sent him to his death….” Arthur whimpered, “I killed him. I killed my husband.” The king sank to his knees, kneeling next to Morgana. The woman could barely hide the tears in her eyes at the sight. Everything she wanted to say, every reassurance died on her tongue. Whatever she said could very well be a lie and nothing more.

“We will make them pay, Arthur. We will make them pay for what they’ve done,” Morgana decided instead, pulling Arthur to his feet. “They won’t get away with this,” she stated sternly, much like their father when he had set his mind to something.

Less than an hour passed where the tension was so thick, one could slice through it with an unsharpened sword. All on board prepared for battle, despite the fact that the fires never stopped burning. Regardless of the fact that they might be too late to be of much good. The fighting had already begun long before they docked, a civil war where the same flag was flying on opposite sides.

“Go search for what is left, we’ll handle everything else,” Gwen informed Arthur when they stepped foot on the raging battlefield. She was dressed in chainmail armor just like everyone else, Camelot’s colors making her blend in with the searing fires. Her helmet was covering most of her face, giving her the appearance of a frightening soldier ready to take lives at a moment's notice. If Arthur was in a better mood, he would have been sorry for the folks who would come face to face with Gwen, the quick footed soldier instead of Gwen, the gentle, kind hearted high lady. At the moment he was on the verge of breaking and was ever so glad that Gwen was as cut throat as she was.

“Thank you,” Arthur told her from the bottom of his heart, “We should have listened to you from the start.”

“You followed your husband’s request, I can’t fault you for that.” She pulled Arthur in for a hug before sending him off. “Go find our king.”

Gwen didn’t have to tell Arthur twice, he was off before she finished speaking. The only thing is his mind was finding and holding Merlin. Nothing else mattered. Not the war thriving around him, swords clashing, arrows flying, Camelot’s red against the duality of Le Lubrique’s purples; nothing. The sorcerer was all that was worth living for and Arthur had a guess as to where Merlin would be.

The castle with Le Lubrique’s flag flapping against the blistering wind was as good as any place to start. Arthur climbed the hill that the palace stood on with lead in his stomach. It felt like every step he took he was merely walking into a trap. The castle should not still be in one piece, the battles around the structure should have made it no more than debris. However, it still stood on weak support.

Going against the nagging voice in the back of his head Arthur called out for his husband, “Merlin!” He walked closer to what would have been the courtyard. Around the perimeter were burning shrubbery that must have been a sight to behold at one point in time. Now there were nothing more than flares and the source of black smoke. The cobblestone center was stained with a drying red that Arthur did not want to face the source of. “Merlin!” Arthur sounded out in the courtyard.

“Arthur,” a hoarse voice groaned weakly. Arthur ran in the direction it came from, his sense of self preservation be damned. Merlin’s life could be on the line.

“Merlin, stay with me. Keep talking!”

“I-I’m over here,” Merlin hissed out helpfully, not informing Arthur where, “here” exactly was. Why did Arthur have to marry such a buffoon? Sure, no one could compare to Merlin, but at the very least he could have courted a smarter man.

“I’m coming, just stay where you are,” Arthur said hastily, rushing through the crumbling courtyard. “Don’t you dare die on me, I’ll kill you myself if you do!” he threatened, searching every nook and cranny for the warlock.

“That’s my line, you ass,” Merlin moaned in complaint, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Come up with your own catchphrases.”

Sometimes Arthur couldn’t believe his choice in a partner. Merlin was really making banter with him while possibly on the brink of death. He was definitely going to kill Merlin for this. “Make me, you bastard,” Arthur cursed, rounding a sharp corner that fell apart as he passed it. His breath was taken away for the second time that day when he saw Merlin on the ground.

They were in what must have been a parlor, the stained glass windows shattered on the ground as a number of the fine furniture burned to cinder. Arthur could imagine the room as something beautiful if he were to be invited over for tea. Now he just saw it as a smoking mess, something that he was glad was going up in flames. Though, without him or Merlin in it would be nice.

“There you are!” Arthur exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling on the floor next to Merlin’s frame. The sorcerer was half naked with sharp nail marks littered across his pale skin. Merlin’s neck was a raring red as if a hand had been wrapped around his throat which didn’t let up until he passed out from the lack of air. His form was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and tears, his rib cage stuck out in unpleasant angles. It looked like he hadn’t been fed in days. The sight made Arthur furious, but Le Lubrique’s court could wait. Arthur had to get Merlin to safety first.

“Took you long enough, you oaf,” Merlin hissed through his teeth, his lips chapped from dehydration. The corner of his mouth was bleeding as if he had been back handed across the face. Arthur reached out a hand to touch it, to make sure Merlin was real and not just some illusion made by a sick sorcerer. “Stop that, it already hurts to talk,” Merlin coughed, his eyes hazy.

“What happened?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, shrugging off his cape to throw over Merlin’s bare chest. It didn’t offer much coverage but it was protection against the flying embers. As a bonus it covered the markings that made Arthur’s skin crawl.

“I arrived under the guise of an envoy, just as we had planned. Everything seemed to be going fine, but they found out I was a spy early on. It was like they could read my mind, and I don’t doubt that they have the knowledge just for the spell,” Merlin explained, pulling Arthur’s cape close, the soft fabric offering a sense of shelter. “But they didn’t seem to care that I was there under ulterior motives. They were only glad to have me, mind and body,” Merlin shivered at the thought. “Le Lubrique’s queen wanted me to father her children.”

Merlin paused to let the thought sink in. He watched Arthur for his reaction. Arthur’s face twisted in a disgusted sneer, baring his teeth at the implication. The king clenched his fists until his nails dug deep enough into his palm to drag blood. Arthur wanted to feel the pain, something to ground him farther so he didn’t march off to kill someone who might already be dead.

“Le Lubrique wanted dragons as slaves, no king would be dumb enough to go to war with a kingdom with dragons on their side; no matter its size,” Merlin went on, his eyes glowing yellow at the notion. “They needed me as a stud.”

Arthur was repulsed at the notion that Le Lubrique would even conceive of such a thing. He must have looked ready to vomit because Merlin quickly added, “Le Lubrique’s queen even tried to make herself appealing to me when I denied her advances.” Arthur could only imagine what the woman did. Sylvy’s antics immediately came to mind. “She magicked her hair blonde and made her eyes your shade of blue.”

Arthur couldn’t help but darkly chuckle at that. Of all the ways to make Merlin fall for someone, blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t it. “Did she really think looking like me would get you to bed her?”

“No,” Merlin began again with a pained yelp that he tried to hide. “What she said was what made me comply.”

“What did she say?” Arthur growled, his earlier fury seeping back into his bloodstream. “What did that harlot say?”

“She threatened your life, Arthur. Your honor, your dignity, and reign as king. Everything,” Merlin got teary eyed at the memory. “The way she took her pleasure from me was painful, but it was nothing compared to the thought of what she said she would have done to you.”

Arthur was shaking with rage, his whole body trembled with the urge to tear Le Lubrique’s queen apart, limb by limb by his own bare hands. His hand hovered over his sword subconsciously. He wanted to kill her, needed to destroy her for what she’s done. For the fear she incited into Merlin. Arthur was bloodthirsty; he hoped that Gwen was just as demanding of blood.

“I wanted to kill her.” Merlin’s quivering voice brought Arthur back to the present. “Let me kill her, Arthur,” Merlin begged his husband, his lip beginning to bleed.

“Of course,” Arthur wiped Merlin’s tears away with his thumb, his hand caressing Merlin’s cheek gently. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you in a heartbeat.”

“Now, Arthur. I want to kill her now.” Merlin tried to sit up but the cry of pain had him falling right back to where he was. “She deserves to suffer.” His eyes lit up in a gold light, trying to magic his way upright but failed and fell down once more. The warlock’s body was in a worse state than he appeared, he shook in a cold sweat like an infection induced fever.

When Merlin began coughing fistfuls of blood at the strain Arthur was forced to act quickly. The king straddled Merlin’s legs, sitting down on his lap to keep Merlin on the ground. “Shhh, I’m here, Merlin. I’m safe, I’m alive,” Arthur barricaded Merlin with his arms. “I’ll bring you her head, I swear.”

“Let me do it, Arthur. I can kill her myself,” Merlin barked, another fit of coughs had him squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’ll bring her to you, alive. You can do anything you want with her court,” Arthur tried a different approach, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of Merlin in this state. “You can make her pay for what she’s done, make her feel the same pain. But please, Merlin,” Arthur begged, stroking Merlin’s face as tears fell on the man’s face. “Stay with me. Keep talking.”

Merlin opened his eyes at Arthur’s request, pain painting them a disorientating blue. “It hurts, Arthur. She did so, so many horrible things,” Merlin admitted in the burning parlor room. He reached out angry scarred arms to wrap around Arthur, pulling the king flush against his chest. “Everything aches, it feels like I’m being burned alive.” Merlin had Arthur in a death grip, there was barely enough room for either of them to breathe. It felt like home.

“They will pay, this I swear,” Arthur made an oath, kissing Merlin to make it true. “By the end of this day their bodies will be put on display for all to see.” He kissed down Merlin’s neck, burying Le Lubrique’s queen’s markings with his own. “Do you want her kingdom as well, Merlin? Say the word and it's yours.”

“I want you. I want her gone. I want her kingdom. I want it all,” Merlin’s mind was spinning with searing fever, screaming pain, and the constant pleasure of Arthur licking at his throat. He squeezed Arthur’s neck with his shaking arms. “Give me everything.”

In a burning parlor of a dying country with a queen and court that abandoned it, the first king of Camelot made a vow to the second king; an apology and a promise. Everything the licking fire was eating, everything destroyed by its own queen; the country, and the sea that surrounded it. The never ending farmlands, the people that survived, and the bones that would be buried by ash of its own making. The entire kingdom; dead, dying, or thriving. All of it would be Merlin’s.

All of it is Merlin’s.

“My king shall have everything.”

60 notes · View notes

jaeminzie · 4 years ago

Text

each time you fall in love | h.rj - teaser

↳ huang renjun x fem!reader

synopsis: the moments of what it seemed like the love you gave him is something renjun would never deem to forget. without it, he’s become the type of person he’s ridiculed in the past. though thanks to you, he’s learned that the past is the past and shit happens.

genre: angst, fluff, college au

teaser word count: 1,375 expected word count: 10-15k

warnings: cursing, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, one sex scene but no explicit smut (more to add later on)

playlist: ‘real games’ by lucky daye ☆ ‘each time you fall in love’ by cigarettes after sex ☆ (more to add later on)

a/n: a belated birthday fic for renjun :,] i’ve been waiting for the right time to write a long and angsty fic and i think now is the perfect time aaaa i’m so excited to write again ! for now, enjoy a little snippet ♡

i. each time you fall in love

renjun was confused as to why he was standing between sweaty bodies of frat boys when he could be laying down in his own clean sheets while binge watching a new show. but no, his best friend just had to quite literally physically drag him to this party. jaemin has been pestering renjun into accompanying him to a frat party so renjun can finally “get some.” while in reality, the only “some” renjun is in need of is a break, and attending a boring college party only to be pushed around by intoxicated, tall, and freakishly meaty boys isn't the break he was quite fond of.

the short boy has been on his tippy toes in an attempt to look for his friend who forced him here (apparently only to ditch him) in the sea of people. as his toes begin to cramp, renjun gives up and marches his way to the backyard. the wrinkles on his forehead begin to soothe as he feels the cold air relief his slightly sweaty forehead.

he observes the area around him — people out here were dancing more appropriately than those inside, the music was calmer too. he thinks the dimly lit backyard sets the mood well, complimenting the chill rnb music playing in the back. though, the calmness came to a halt when he heard the infamous loud voice of donghyuck calling his name from the side of the area.

renjun smiles at the him and jeno who was standing right beside donghyuck, feeling relieved that he will no longer look like a stupid loner since he’s found a few friends. as he came closer to them, the acrid smell of their cigarettes became more prevalent.

“didn’t take you as a party guy, injunie.” donghyuck nudges him with his shoulder as renjun finds place in between the two, resting his back against the fence.

“that’s because i’m not.”

jeno chuckles at his response, “so jaemin finally succeeded.” renjun huffs. “well, at least enjoy it now that you’re here.”

donghyuck made a noise of agreement. “and you guys consider smoking in the corner fun?” renjun eyes the boys, obviously joking with them but was also curious if they genuinely find pleasure in welcoming those toxins into their system.

“apparently you, a prude, think being a virgin is fun. but i guess we all have different definitions of fun, huh?” donghyuck teases before taking another hit, releasing the smoke and polluting the air.

renjun blinks repeatedly to moisten his burning eyes, “yeah, i expect that same attitude from you when you need an inhaler every five seconds. that’s the only thing you’ll ever hit then.”

jeno coughs out smoke as he laughs at the remark, “you’ve done pissed him off, hyuck. here — take a hit, it’ll feel better.” jeno places the cigarette in front of renjun’s face and winks at him.

renjun mockingly smiles at the taller boy before rolling his eyes and heartily laughing at the banter between him and his good friends.

the boy observes how the smoke leaves the tip of the cigarette to form patterns in the air, creating an infinite amount of stems and designs. like a camera lens, his focus on the killing object in front of him blurs and readjusts on a dancing figure directly behind the cigarette from afar.

jeno slowly drops his hand down as he sees his friend’s gaze shift to another hazardous object — a girl. specifically, you. “you know her?”

renjun thinks about his answer, because you guys don’t know each other personally nor have even talked to one another but he does know of you but he doesn’t want to sound like a creep. saving himself from more insults, he shakes his head. “maybe i should, though.”

not that he pays attention but he’s seen you at a couple of his classes last semester, but sadly none this semester. he remembers how you’d always come in late, but not too late. just late enough for everyone to stop what they’re doing and watch you walk down to your seat. or maybe that was just a natural effect of yours that you hold on people. i mean, renjun didn’t miss the way you put thought into your outfit for every class even if it was a boring lecture. hell, you could show up to class hungover and in pajamas (which you’ve done before a shameful amount of times) and still catch everyone’s attention.

renjun has a pair of functioning eyes so he is very aware of your charming looks. tonight was different, though. you danced confidently right in the center of the grass, with a drink in your hands that hasn’t spilled once thanks to your graceful mannerisms. with the fairy lights hitting your skin, making you glow underneath the dark sky, renjun thought you couldn’t get any prettier.

he was about to inform his friends that he’ll be getting a drink, but noticed that the two boys had already left his side. he cowered at the thought of him just standing there alone with nothing and no one to accompany him while he shamelessly stared at you. making the churning feeling in stomach worsen, your gaze meets his while you continue to dance to the sensual music.

you shot a smile first, renjun immediately gives you one back as he straightens his posture. renjun sees you giggle at his actions then whisper something in your friend’s ear, simultaneously handing your drink to her, to which she pushed you toward his direction and gently patted your bottom.

renjun wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol taking control or you were just this bold, strutting your way toward him — a boy who you don’t even know.

you halt your steps when you stand in front of him, getting a clear view of his pretty face. “you seem a bit lonely.”

renjun gulps, collecting his confidence. “just a bit.”

“want some company then?”

renjun smiles genuinely at your offer. “i would love that actually.” he stares at your features, admiring the dots on your face that would resemble star constellations if someone were to draw lines to connect them. “i’m renjun.” he was smart enough to wipe his hands discreetly behind him before putting them out.

“nice to meet you, renjun. i’m y/n.” you took his hand and shook it lightly. “i think i’ve seen you in one of my classes before? i might be wrong.” you tilt your head slightly. renjun almost melts at the sight.

he smiles before nodding, eyes shining. “yeah, i’m shocked you remember. i don’t usually talk during class.” he laughs. it seems that every time he smiles, your palms become sweatier and your neck’s temperature increases.

“don’t worry, pretty boys like you don’t need to do much to catch yourself some attention.”

renjun laughs nervously at the compliment, fiddling with the ends of his oversized jacket. “you're the one to talk but thank you.” his eyes twinkled as he spoke, the moonlight hitting the highest points of his face precisely. “you wanna go sit over there?” he points to the chairs near your standing figures. you nodded and began to walk your way toward the spot with renjun following suit.

renjun wasn’t sure how it happened. how the night turned from arguing with jaemin over a pointless party to now — not wanting to leave the damn place. how he was able to maintain a real conversation with you, not some excruciatingly boring small talk that neither party enjoys. he learned much about your character and questioned how much more perfect you can be. on the other hand, you learned that renjun makes pleasant company as he eased through the night talking to you about anything. he made any topic worth listening to if he was the one doing the talking.

as he drove home with a drunk jaemin snoring beside him in the passenger seat, he realized that, for once, renjun was thankful that his best friend is the most stubborn person in the planet and made him go to that stupid frat party.

because now, you’ve got him in your hands and he was completely okay with that.

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maghrib-genova · 4 years ago

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I just finished watching murder on the orient express and a snippet of martin eden and I just realised that marwan smiles so big like a thousand watt smile, while luca's smile is more subdued like he's shy almost (or maybe that's just martin's character???) And I'm just falling in love with them all over again ❤❤ do you have a favorite of both their movies? I'd love to watch those smiles more often 😍 (also never realised how broad luca's shoulder is wow tog really downplayed his features a lot)

Ah yes. It's all because of their characters they portrayed, that's why you see such a contrast in their smiles. Both of these movies, the characters have entirely different motives to show through their expressions, so it's understandable why there is a stark different in the way they smile.

Since we all know that both of them are such brilliant actors, everything they did in their movies I believe is the deliberate choice in their part to highlight the character personality.

Pierre smiles so widely in the movie because first I think he overall does it because of his job requires him to be all smiling and friendly and he also has something to hide, this is a mask too, this smile.

there is a moment where there is trouble behind his character when he sit on the chair in front of the rooms, waiting, subtle fidgeting on Marwan's part. I mean Pierre didn't have much screentime but all the small moment given to him, Marwan have used it to the best of his ability to showcase all of Pierre's motive as a character.

But yes his megawatt smile was truly enticing in this movie.

Now we move on to Martin. Martin smiles too a couple of time in this movie but there is some irony behind each smiles, some hidden sadness and even in his happiest time, we can still see that lingering gloom in his eyes, like he is not sure if he should smile or not, like this moment will vanish before his eyes and everything is just some sort of illusion.

Compare with this Smile when he played other characters. One is mischievous smile, sexy even though it was simple smile but we can feel his confident and his playfullness when played as Primo and another one was a genuine happy smile for his brother, with twinkle in his eyes when he played as Loris, a loving and caring brother.

Everything is deliberate choice for Luca. Even when he played Nicky.

Ugh..especially when he played nicky. Him not doing much is actually Luca doing most to show that Nicky is reserved and calculating and listening and just observing his surrounding and understanding. Then he laugh freely once when he was only with Joe to show us how much he loves his husband, how happy Joe made him even in the most hopeless place, strapped in torture table. 😘👌

(Also I think this is the most beautiful smile/laugh from Luca in any of his movies I have ever watched he's in. Or I could be bias. Because I love Nicky lol but seriously, this smile is so precious. We have to treasure it.)

Also Yes. Luca has such a broad freaking shoulder. Like it's there so jarringly when you watched his other movies. I think even when he's playing Nicky, his shoulder clearly shows that it's broad as hell.😂 they didn't down play it, it's just limited screentime for Nicky if we didn't pay too much attention we might miss it. That's why have to watch it at least 5 times guy to appreciate tog to the fullest. And to appreciate Luca as Nicky. It's chef's kiss 😘👌

What interesting though. Even though his shoulder was so broad, in that recent video Gina gave to us, when Marwan engulfed him in his embrace, that broad shoulder kind of disappeared. So I don't know who has broader shoulder at this point haha.

I mean, in Marwan's Workout Video or when he played as Majid. It was clear that he also has broad shoulder.

Anyway, it's become quite long and I haven't even answer everything. I got lost in making all the gifset to answer this haha. I have more smiling Luca gifset now. It's a bonus so thank you for this ask.

My personal favorite from all of their movies I have watched :

For Luca Marinelli I think his best role was playing as Primo in Trust FX (2018). He owned that role to the point I don't think anyone can do the character Justice the way he did in that series. He is like a wild untamed animal, like we couldn't predict what he would do next and he is playing the criminal in such a charming way. Everything about Primo screams sexy. It's hard to hate him as a villain of the story because he was so compelling and so interesting you just want to see more of him.

Martin Eden (2019) also such a good role, but it's bleak and it's poetic. Beautiful but decaying and it's hollowing. Something about Martin that makes you feel helpless and hopeless about the world and I love that movie because of it.

Luca as Fabio in They Call Me Jeeg (2015) also such a good role that Luca portrayed, playing a villain too but I still think Primo is the OG. But watching Luca as Fabio was really fun too. He wasn't a conventional villain, he sing, he is clean freak. He is beautiful and deadly too.

Ohhhh It's a long List of all The luca roles I like. I love him playing Roberta (The last man on earth/L'ultimo terrestre 2011) too! He completely become another person like it's hard to find Luca in Roberta, like Roberta is Roberta and Luca is Luca and that's how you know he clearly nail the role when he emerged as another person entirely.

Paolo (Il padre d'Italia 2017) is worth mentioning too because there is something about Paolo that makes you feel too much for him too. The last one is Loris (Up to the world 2013) because after being tortured by Luca's filmography because most of it are sad and bleak and to see something sweet with Luca character didn't have too much baggage to carry, I feel liberated and want to cling on Loris to make me happy 😂

For Marwan Kenzari I personally really love him in Wolf (2013) as Majid. It was such an interesting role to play, so many side of majid, so Marwan has a role to showcase all his acting abilities with this role, so much room to show all his emotions and his physicality and the story also I think hits home for Marwan so it feels personal to watch and such a beautiful movie too. Majid will always be my favorite.

Another one from Marwan that I think everyone should watch was when he played real life figure Ashraf Marwan in The Angel (2018) , there is a strong charisma and charm he carry as this character and tenderness and also fierceness, secret in plain sight that makes us keep questioning the motives of the characters even though we already know the story. It's such a fun movie to watch and also one of Marwan best performance.

Marwan as Idris (Instinct 2019) also need to be mentioned because how good he played this unsettling character, it's an interesting watch for sure. Another one is Adrian (what Happened to Monday 2017) though he wasn't the prominent role but he made an impression that stays with you after watching the movie. And the movie also was truly truly good too, He was so handsome here too.

It's been fun answering this question for 2 hours, I hope it's informative enough😂

#answer #the old guard #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #luca marinelli #marwan kenzari #kaysanova #lapinangeliq #movies #movie rec list

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jeonsblackgf-writes · 4 years ago

Text

ONE PLUS ONE || 1 ||

✨Summary: Trials and Tribulations of vinnie and his gf.

✨pairing: Vinnie Hacker x black!OC

✨genre: fluff ig

✨word count: 1.7k

Both characters are like 22 in this btw.

______________________________________🖊

"Come on Rhey, it's not funny." Vin groaned, already embarrassed at the outcome of his recent tiktok. He had posted a thirst trap on tiktok with boxers on. He thought the video looked okay, until he read the comments where people were talking about his dick size.

Ignoring him, Rhey continued to laugh, her box braid up-do coming down in the process. She scrolled through the comments to read more as her boyfriend glared at her, "Look at this one someone said Your dick looks so small I bet your girlfriend uses it as a toothpick.' I AM SCREAMING"

"Ha ha ha." He grumbled, crossing his arms as he kept his eyes on her. The comments weren't even all that funny, she just wanted something to laugh at.

"Awwww is the wittle baby upset his weewee is small." Rhey playfully cooed at him, grabbing his face in her hands. His cheeks went red as he felt her warm hands move his face fro side to side in a cooing manner, as if she were his grandmother.

"Baby stop it's not funny. Someone said my dick looks like a pebble. My dick is literally 11 inches. What fucking pebble are they talking about." He complained as he stood up from the couch and went into their room. The second he closed the door, the rest of their friends came inside of her LA villa with confused faces. She completely forgot she gave them keys.

"He's mad his fans are calling his dick small." She responded before walking into their room to see him lying down, stomach on the bed with his phone in his hand scrolling through social media. She walked over to him and laid on top of him, putting her head on his shoulder so that she could whisper in his ear.

"You know I was only joking right. You have a whole girlfriend, your thirst trapping days are over." She stated her breathe fanning his ear, causing chills to run down his arms. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. He only posted it because half his tiktok was now filled with his girlfriend. People were tired of him expressing how long they were together. It's been 8 years, them getting together at 14.

"Everyone knows you radiate big dick energy." She exclaimed, trying to cheer him up but it didn't work. He was still upset about a bunch of 12 year old calling his dick small.

Not knowing what to do, Rhey started to get up to see the rest of their friends but Vinnie quickly grabbed her and turned her around to where she was on the bed and he was on top of her.

"I was fine a long time ago. I just wanted your attention." He admitted, laying his head on her chest, their typical position. She snorted and smacked the back of his head. He laughed and kissed her cheek

"What time do you have to head back to the studio?" Vinnie asked, momentarily breaking the silence. Rhey checked her phone.

"In about an hour. I have one more song that needs to be done. I just have I finish the last verse and record it." She replied.

Of course she wasn't going to tell him that the entire song was about him...and that she named it after him. What he won't know won't hurt him. She never told him about the other songs or the album cover either, hence why she made him do a photo shoot with her a few months ago.

"Great so that gives me enough time to cuddle you and post you again." He replied, as he went onto his phone and pulled up instagram. Rhey sighed. Every time he posted her his fans went crazy for no reason. They hated the fact that he was with someone who had a much larger platform than him.

He stuck his tongue out while she puckered her lips while grabbing his face.

"Well my phone is gonna blow up. Thanks for that Vincent." Rhey sighed as she awaited the thousands of notifications from IG.

"No problem princess." He replied cheekily, giving his girlfriend a huge smile. She playfully rolled her eyes at him.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for the next 20 to 30 minutes. No we're we're spoken, just the soft sounds of breathing could be heard from both partners. They were well aware that their friends were still in their house but they didn't care.

"Wanna know what I always found funny?" Rhey asked, playing with her boyfriends fingers. Vinnie perked his head up lightly, waiting for an answer.

"When we were 18, and I was just getting started with my career and you were getting hella famous on tiktok like you are now. I was always told that you and I would never work because of our race and two completely different personalities despite them not knowing we've been together since 2012. I don't know why I think it's funny but it just is." She explained, not looking at Vinnie. She knew he had always felt some type of way when people mentioned our relationship in a negative way. He was still getting over his anger issues at the time so of course when your at the peak of your influencer career, you're gonna make some rash decisions.

"I mean i've made some bad decisions I admit, but I knew the second I met you all of that had to change. I don't know why, but there was always something about you that I had to get to know on a more personal level when we were 14. You really are a light in my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Even with me being 18 at that time and so blind to new found fame, I knew what I wanted and it was you." Vinnie explained himself.

There was a period of time where he knew his feelings for Rhey were real but he knew that if he wanted to be the guy she wanted him to be he had to change, so they remained friends until he got his shit together and then he finally did he built up enough courage to ask her out, and it they're still together years later.

"Oh shit! I have to go!" Rhey shrieked after checking the time on her phone, jumping up from the bed. She hurriedly grabbed her nike slides and wallet, before rushing over to Vinnie to give him a kiss, which he happily returned, but before she turned around to leave he grabbed her hand causing her to look back at him.

"Am I gonna get a little snippet of the album?" He asked sneakily, making his girlfriend laugh.

"Theres 22 songs on the album. That's the only hint you're getting." She laughed before running out of the room to head to the studio.

Fortunately she made it in time, seeing her manager standing in front of the main studio door, waiting for her. She walked up to her and smiled wearily, not wanting to be scolded for being the second one to arrive.

"It's about time!" She exaggerated, grabbing the key and opening the door. Rhey hurriedly facetimed Vinnie who answered on the second ring. His face was deadly nonchalant as he looked at her. That's when she knew he was upset that she had left him so she tried to cheer him up by posing but it didn't work.

"I'm getting a studio built in the house. I hate leaving," She sighed, making a smile to quickly etch on his face. She rolled her eyes at his childish antics.

"I'm going to a meeting. Apparently some modelling company wants to meet up with me but my agent won't tell me who so we'll see how it goes." Vinnie explained through the phone. His nerves were shot with anxiousness.

"Well let me know how it goes."

"I will, I love you."

"I love you more,"

She hung up the phone and walked into the studio to begin her session, her producer, Pierce already working on some new beats for her last verse in her last song. After that gets perfected, the album is complete.

"You ready to get this masterpiece completed?"

Rhey smiled nervously. "Let's do it!"

"I know you said your boyfriend was your main focus behind the album. Is all the songs about him?" Pierce asked as he messed with a few buttons while Rhey got her lyric book out.

"Yes each and every song is about either him or our relationship." She replied mindlessly, flipping through pages, after finding the page with her recent song on it. She started to write words down that had came to her in the morning when she woke up. She smiled once she realized she had just finished her last verse for her last song on the album.

"Listen to this and tell me what you think about it. I added some small guitar riffs on the beginning to give it more of a natural groove." Pierce stated, turning the volume up. All of her songs were a little upbeat and happy and the last song was slow and smooth. A great way to end an album.

"It's amazing Pierce." She whispered, trying to get herself not to cry. She had been trying to find a way to express her love for Vinnie for MONTHS, and this album just might've done it.

Pierce smiled, "Then get yo ass in the booth and let's record it." He pushed her into the booth and got the music ready as she started to get herself together to sing.

A few minutes later she stopped singing and sighed in happiness. Her album was finally finished.

>1 hour later<

"BABY! VINNIE WHERE ARE YOU?" Rhey yelled as she walks through the house, rapidly throwing her things all over the place, excited to tell her boyfriend about the news.

"Bedroom." He replied.

Rhey ran inside with a smile on her face, only for it drop once she saw the long look on her boyfriends face. He sighed and grabbed her hand, making her sit beside him. His face showed distress so she news couldn't have been good.

"The surprise meeting that I was had with vogue...they wanna sign me." He sighed, clearly not happy about the offer.

"Are you kidding me? This is huge! It means we'll be under the same company! How are you not happy about this?" She exclaimed with a large smile on her face.

"It's for Vogue Paris...not L.A."

Her smile dropped...

#vinnie #vinniehacker #black!reader #black reader #interracial

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uponrightful · 3 years ago

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F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

✨Fanfic Ask Game✨

(sorry this is long, but I know you won't mind too much)

Excerpt From: "Welcome Company" Part 2

The girl poured a fresh cup of caf, smiling at the buzzed, blonde sitting sleepily across the bar from her. Rex had made a surprise visit, more than a week ahead of schedule with more than enough stories to keep her busy and listening for a full weekend. It was one of her favorite things, to sit and sip caf while hearing about the -less gruesome- details of her trooper’s missions.

“-It was hell back there, but at least Anakin didn’t need reinforcements like last time.” Rex shook his head in slight frustration.

A this point she knew about all of the Generals, and almost knew all the clones by name. Of course many had come to see her, but putting names to faces wasn’t always easy. She found that putting names to tattoos and personalities was easiest.

As long as they show their personality.

“I’m glad you survived the Generals antics. Otherwise I wouldn’t get my updates so willingly.” She couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of asking Cody to talk about things so willingly. Of course Fives would be willing, but the quality of information was a whole other battle to fight.

“I’ll always come back, as long as you’ve got hot caf on drip.” Rex chuckled, taking a hearty drink from his mug. “I heard through the barracks that you played host to a new guest?”

She smiled almost absentmindedly, looking towards the rocking chair that had sat absent since Commander Wolffe’s overnight stay two weeks ago. “Yes, I did.”

“Angry bastard, isn’t he?” He commented with a light jeer, readjusting himself on the barstool he sat on.

I need to get bigger ones… they’re all too small for the boys.

“I don’t know what to think of him just yet.” She mused, tracing her finger around the lips of her mug, letting the steam coat her fingertips in a dewy sheen. “We didn’t particularly meet.” The look on Rex’s face changed with the drop of a hat, causing her to almost stutter in the attempt to rephrase herself. Whatever he’d heard, apparently didn’t meet up with her divulged information.

“I- I mean we didn’t speak.” She tried her best not to let her anxiety show, but that dreadful stutter had reared its ugly head. “I us-used signs to help him through the house.”

“You wrote out signs?” Rex parroted her with an incredulous expression, seemingly trying to piece together an image of what her nights must’ve looked like hiding from Wolffe and creeping down hallways without him catching sight of her. “Let me see them.”

She nodded timidly, still trying to gain back her confidence after realizing that Rex wasn’t actually mad. In one of the least-squeaky cabinets under the sink, she retrieved one of the black signs, and the chalk that she used to write the signs. Sliding them across the island, her gaze focused on Rex’s softening expression. Her remaining anxiety was slowly dissipating.

“You’re a special kind of patient, you know that?” Rex ran his finger over the white chalk, looking up at her under thick, dark eyelashes.

“He just seemed like the type who would want a different kind of love.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling her face heat with embarrassment. It was easy to watch from behind the corners of her house, and enjoy to unguarded expressions of her warriors. But hearing any praise directly to her face was almost pure torture.

“All I’ve heard is when the Commander stepped back on base he looked like a brand new man. Even Cody was talking about how Wolffe’s armor looked better than the day he got it re-painted.” Rex paused to take another slug of his caf. “I haven’t seen the Commander… but I’m sure you gave him a kriffing good polish didn’t you?” He chuckled again, taking another hard look at the sign sitting in front of him. “I imagine the poor sap was standing up straighter than a rod with all the attention he got from you.”

“His were particularly rough… but nothing a little elbow grease couldn’t fix.” She retrieved the signs and put it back it it’s place under the sink. “I did use a little epoxy to fill In some particularly deep scratches.”

Rex gave her a wide smile and motioned for her to come over with an arm stretched out. She obliged, and placed herself within arm’s reach so he could pull her into a tight hug. He settled his chin on top of her head, giving a few quick squeezes just to explain all the things she knew Rex couldn’t say. For all the things the Captain could say, the girl knew that many of her boys were unable to speak though many of the things they felt. Instead, they liked touch.

At first, she’d been quite unwilling to oblige them. Feeling much too insignificant to be anyone that deserved any real attention from such important men. But after almost two years, hugs and the occasional request for head scratches or a haircut had become almost essential to her services. Even Rex hadn’t been keen on physical attention towards anyone but his brothers, however that changed after a few terrible nights spent way too late at 79’s. A particularly bloody battle left him beaten and bruised in more ways than one. And instead of coming straight to her, he’d found the door to 79’s and the bottom of a bottle of fire whiskey first. Two days of close attention and a true moment of vulnerability later, Rex became more than a regular. He practically cornered his own room at her house, where she was almost always on call for late-night or early-morning planet-side landings.

“You want him to come back don’t you?” Rex’s voice sounded muffled in her hair.

“I don’t want anything. You know that Rex.” He hugged her tighter with both arms this time, letting out a rough sigh.

“You’re more than deserving of whatever your little heart desires. Maker knows that… and if they don’t, well. I’d be more than happy to let them know.” They both chuckled, and split apart to take another drink of caf.

Only now that question still hung in the air. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the Commander to come back. But honestly, she couldn’t seem to distinguish what exactly she wanted to give him. Or whether or not Rex was talking about the Commander when he’d been oh-so willing to remind them of her own importance. Either option was enough to make her stomach knot. The girl always wanted to give, but had -according to Rex- a bad habit of never taking anything in return. But doing what she did for the troopers, allowed her the opportunity to do just that. The men hardly had anything to give, except a heartfelt thanks upon leaving. And she didn’t have to do anything but help. No transaction if the troopers didn’t desire it, and even then it was always guided by the understanding that they didn’t owe her anything.

“I want to be good.” She smiled, sounding like a broken record to Rex.

“I don’t know how I can make it any more obvious.” He sighed. “I’ve told you hundreds of times that you’re the Guardian Angel of me, and my vod.”

The girl felt another rise of heat in her face.

“Wolffe will come back. I’m sure of it.” Rex continued, “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll never want to leave this place.”

This right here is probably some of my favorite dialogue I've written. Honestly, I don't think I write it well but the feelings I got while writing this made the whole scene that much more special overall. I loved writing for Rex in the 'big brother' sense. Rex is such a sweetheart, and the entire conversation was so very easy to write. Organic conversation is challenging for me normally, and for whatever reason -I think it's these two characters really- that made everything jive really well. Like I said, It's really nothing groundbreaking. But I'm proud of little-ole-me for doing it anyways.☺️

Thank you for asking me doll, you never fail to make me smile. 🥰

Much Love, Rightful 🤍

#fanfic ask game #uponrightful #uponrightful answers

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sincerelyella · 3 years ago

Text

RAMifications Chapter 7 - Kiss Me

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

A/N: This entire idea came from @burnsoslow and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake and Alyssa. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia and became his queen.

Catch up here

Big thank you to my beta reader/snippet looker-overer (?)/my biggest cheerleader @burnsoslow - always catching little details that my mind overlooks.

Warnings: Some swearing; hinting of 🍐 or 🍋?

Words: 2002

“Lady Ella. Might I have a word?”

Ella wasn’t sure about the protocol for inviting the King inside her bedroom … but this was his palace after all. She nodded and stepped back, allowing him to walk past her as she shut the door.

“Hello again, Your Majesty,” Ella put one foot behind the other in an attempt to curtsy when Constantine waved his hand in the air.

“There’s no need for that, dear,” he studied Ella for another moment before speaking again. “How are you feeling about Liam?”

“Your Majesty?” What the hell does that mean?

Constantine blew out a breath. “Are you here for wealth? Fame? A title? Why are you here? Liam needs stability above all right now, Ella. You … joining in the middle of the social season, having not been in Cordonia long and knowing nothing of our traditions … that concerns me. We have suitors that have prepared their entire lives to be queen. This could be potentially dangerous should our enemies see this as a weakness!”

Ella grit her teeth and clenched her jaw in an effort to hide her irritation. What the fuck? “Sir, if I may speak freely?”

He nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

“Why are you trying to intimidate me?” She spat out.

The King was taken aback at her tone and could only blink as a response. He hadn’t expected this very small woman to behave this way. Ella continued speaking, not even waiting for him to respond. “I may not have prepared my whole life to be a queen of an entire country, but I’ve spent a majority of my adult life studying. Studying diplomacy, trade, investment … how to recognize when someone is going into cardiac arrest and bringing them back to life,” she said the last few words louder than the rest, unable to hide her aggravation. “I have no doubt that these other ladies studied hard to be queen. But did they study how to be a wife? How to console someone when they lost everything they own? How to be compassionate towards people of a lower stature? The people need a Queen that understands them. Liam needs someone that can be a queen AND a wife. I’ve embraced your country, as well as your traditions.”

Constantine gave her a questioning look.

“I know I have because instead of just being with the man I want to be with … I have to parade around with four other women trying to win him.” Ella’s eyes met his, not backing down from his stare.

He was momentarily speechless. No one had ever spoken to him that way, ever. Except maybe his wife, but he hardly paid attention to her and her ramblings anyway. This young woman was fiery, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. “I am not here to intimidate you, Ella,” he finally said slowly. “We will see how the rest of the season goes. I want what’s best for my country, that’s all.”

“What’s best for your country is a successor that has it all. If he’s happy AND can run a country with someone that loves him, then I don’t see the problem … sir.” She had forgotten that she was speaking to the king. He could have her gone and back to California in a hot second if he wanted to.

Constantine carefully took in her words and nodded. “Alright, Ella. We’ll see what happens. You have a good night.” He turned and let himself out of the room.

Ella walked over, locked the door and pressed her back up against it. My mouth might get me in some serious trouble here. She finally went to get ready for bed, slipped into the comforter and fell into a deep sleep.

Soft, constant knocks on the door woke up Ella the next morning.

“I’m coming … sheesh,” she mumbled, stumbling out of bed and tripped over her comforter that her foot was caught in. “Oh shit!” She shrieked as she hit the ground and the knocking stopped for a second.

“Ella?”

“Um, yes! Just a second!” Real smooth. Ella picked herself up off the ground, threw the stupid comforter on the bed and rushed to the door to open it.

There stood Liam, leaning on the door frame wearing a white polo shirt that outlined his chest and arm muscles perfectly. She roamed her eyes down further to take in the navy blue slacks and brown loafers. Ohmigod. It’s entirely too early to look that good. She inadvertently sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

Liam cleared his throat and tried to hide a smile when he noticed she was staring. “Good morning, Lady Ella. I wanted to stop by and see you before I headed in to meetings today. May I come in?”

Ella blinked and quickly nodded. She moved aside so he could walk in the door and she closed it behind him. “Good morning, Your Highness. I’m sorry if I-” She was interrupted by Liam’s mouth on hers. Ella strained on the tips of her toes to meet him so she could kiss him back with fervor. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed her tongue into his mouth and he groaned in response.

He could hardly control himself. As soon as he saw her open the door wearing a tank top - she wasn’t wearing a bra, dear God - and the shortest Hello Kitty pajama shorts known to man, his cock jumped in his pants and his mouth watered. She looked like a goddess, with all her dark hair piled on top of her head, and her sleepy disposition; he was so tempted to just take her right then and there. It took all of the effort he could muster to pull away from those soft lips. “I’m sorry, I … really just came to say good morning,” he said in between breaths.

“Sure … you did,” Ella panted and laughed breathlessly.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to see you much today,” he said sadly. “My father and I have meetings and things to take care of before we leave.” Liam gulped. “Remember, we have to be, somewhat secretive, just until the social season ends,” he gave her a guilty look. He still kept his arms around her, not wanting to let go just yet. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s alright, I knew what all this entailed. And I know you have things to do today. I have some interview that Bertrand set up so … I’ll be doing that,” she smiled up at him.

“I … can text you though, right?” That sounded so pathetic.

Ella giggled. “You’re so cute. Of course you can.”

Their intimate moment was interrupted by loud knocks at the door. “Ellaaaaaaa! Wake up sleepy heeeeead!”

“That must be Maxwell,” Ella whispered and they laughed. Liam leaned down to kiss her one last time before releasing her.

The door flew open. “Good morning sunshine!” Maxwell bounced into the room and stopped short when he saw Liam. “Hey buddy!” He grinned wide at the both of them.

“Good morning Maxwell,” Liam chuckled. “I need to get going, I’ll see you two later.” He grabbed Ella’s hand and squeezed it before walking out into the hallway.

“He came to … visit you huuuuh?” Max wiggled his eyebrows at Ella and she blushed.

“He just came to say good morning, that’s all.”

“Mmmhmmm. Is that what you crazy kids call it these days?”

She rolled her eyes but ignored his question entirely. “Okay, so I’m assuming you’re here to take me to get breakfast?”

“You are correct! Breakfast, the boutique, and then I’m also supposed to prep you for the interview. Bertrand will be here later to prep you some more!”

“Alright, let me get dressed really quick.”

45 minutes later, Max and Ella were eating in the dining hall. “So, what are they going to be asking me anyway?”

Max bit off a piece of bacon. “There’s only one person coming from Trend, her name is Ana de Luca. She’s pretty cool actually, the royal family and the nobles trust her with their interviews. Sometimes she brings Donnie Brine with CBC, but I don’t think he’s coming. She will most likely ask you about where you came from, what you did there, how you met the prince, how you feel about the prince, what would set you apart from the other suitors … things like that.” He shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth and washed it down with some coffee.

“Did you guys want me to be truthful or do you have some script for me to follow?”

Maxwell shook his head. “No, no, no, there’s no script. I’m sure Bertrand will want you to say things about House Beaumont … but, just be yourself. They want to know about Ella! So tell them,” he smiled reassuringly at her and continued eating.

A few hours later, after spending an hour in the boutique with Maxwell throwing all kinds of dresses over the fitting room door, she finally found a dress she loved. A black chiffon midi length dress with purple flowers on the bottom, it had an A-line silhouette and short sleeves. It was elegant enough for a daytime interview with the press, and was also Maxwell and Bertrand approved.

Ella sat in her bedroom with Maxwell, listening to him chatter away next to her about his new awesome playlist that he made. She was feeling her stomach twist with nerves, her hands clasped in her lap and she could feel her palms getting sweaty. She heard footsteps come right outside her door and knew it was Bertrand. Ella took a big breath in and let it out slowly. “You ready, Ella?” Max took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to do great!”

They both stood and walked out into the hallway meeting Bertrand and a petite woman with blond hair. “Hello,” Ella smiled.

“Hello, Lady Ella I presume?”

“Yes, Ana, allow me to introduce Lady Ella of House Beaumont. Lady Ella, this is Ana de Luca from Trend Magazine.”

Ella and Ana shook hands. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Ella. We are all very curious to know more about you.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Ana. Where are we having this interview?”

“In one of the ballrooms, I’ve had the crew set up already. Follow me.”

The four headed towards one of the open ballrooms, smaller than the other one Ella had seen a week ago. As they rounded the corner, Ella spotted two women coming towards them. One with jet black hair and the other with flaming red hair. The woman with the dark hair just looked at Ella curiously, while the other woman gave her the death stare. As Ana, Bertrand and Maxwell walked into the ballroom, Ella looked back at both women. The redhead walked up to her and snickered. “Well, well, well, look what we have here.”

#RAMifications #Liam x MC #Liam x Ella #Liam Rys #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance au #choices trr #choices liam x mc #choices trr au #choices liam #pixelberry #play choices #trr fandom #trr fanfic #trr #trr au

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snickiebear · 4 years ago

Note

yo nadia <3333 i'm bored in my online classes and u reblogged the questions thingy at the right time lmao, so get ready: 1, 4, 5, 9, 10, 17, 23, 24, 28, 30!!!, 34, 38, 39, 40 (the intimacy of being understood) (imma stop here lol) (also i'm sorry u're not feeling well, ily and hope u'll feel better soon!! <33333)

ELE ILY. (and thank you, i’m stayin home today cause,,, yeah. i appreciate you sm.) you’re the literal best, i adore you.

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

The first fanfiction i read was for The Lunar Chronicles when I was like 11?? and it was 100% on accident and it scarred me because it was a hardcore porn one with a period kink and i was like WHAT IS THIS??? OH MY GOD???? LMAOOOOO i didn’t pick it back up until i was 13-14 and really got into the Fairy Tail fandom. I still reread my favorites on ff.net cause i love them.

As for writing, I wrote a horrible, terrible x-men fanfiction when I was twelve. (my friend still brings it up and REFUSES to delete it so it still gets comments and views, that shit HAUNTS ME ELE.) then tried again for Fairy Tail, posted like two chapters before taking it down cause i wasn’t really feeling it. And then I posted The Intimacy Of Being Understood and here we are.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

OMGG okok

@murd3rm1ttens ‘s The Problem How Time Works IF YOU HAVENT READ THIS YOU GUYS NEED TO HOP ON IT ASAP. MITTEN’S WRITING SO SO SO SO GOOD. SAKURA AND INO ARE TOTAL BADASSES. KAKASHI IS A SIMPPPP. ITS SO FUCKING GOOD.

@mouseymightymarvellous ‘s We Were Screaming In Color (Only A Possibility) yes, yes I KNOW. i always point into mousey’s direction but i WILL always advocate that everyone reads her fics, they’re literally so beautiful???? i just happen to be rereading WWSIN rn

@safelycapricious ‘s Shaking Up And Breaking Down series. I found this like?? idfk but i’ve been raving about it ever since. ALSO CHECK OUT THEIR FICS IN GENERAL.

fuck i have more than three but also check out @ambivalens999 ‘s Masks

i do wanna make a fic rec thing where i just rav about my favs,,, might do that later or sum

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

Omniscient third person. I don’t like it. Like I can understand that it can be a little hard to stay in one person’s perspective but, in my opinion, if you can, it shows how disciplined you are as a writer. Plus, i just get so confused when I go from A’s thoughts to suddenly what B is thinking about A.

When writers use ‘ ‘ instead of “ “. When writers put thoughts in ‘ ‘ instead of just italicizing them. It’s small things but like they just bother me sO MUCH. most of the time i can ignore it and try to enjoy but other times i just dip.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

@espoir-et-reves !!!!! THEIR SHISAKU FICS ARE SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. And they have a warring states one going on THAT I AM SO OBSESSED WITH.

@writer168 idk if they’re really “underrated” but THEY HAVE SUCH GREAT FICS ON AO3. Like theres an AU with sakura, kiba, and shino that i reread constantly because it just. is. so. fucking. GOOD. and they posted a new one that i’m YELLING about.

@eggtoasties okay they only have 2 in the naruto fandom (one shisaku which is still ongoing) BUT THEIR WRITING STYLE IS SO NICE?? I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I still go back and reread their shikasaku one cause UGH i can’t get enough. I love it.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Fandoms: Naruto, Soul Eater, The Old Guard, ATLA

Parings: KakaSaku/ShikaSaku/ShiSaku/MultiSaku, SoMa, Joe X Nicky, Zukka

Character: SAKURA. I will read anything with Sakura as the main character and her being a fuckin badass or becoming a badass. I love her.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

aha.. haha.. well. I check my email like three times an hour. its the first thing i check in the mornings too. I’m literally a whore for praise and literally eat up feedback like its going out of style. I also reread a lot of my stuff because i make so many mistakes and spelling errors, or the spacing is weird oR SOMETHING. plus, literally any and all comments make my day, i go back and reread them cause they just make me feel so tingly and warm like “wow. this person enjoyed the fic/my writing enough to tell me. thats HUGE!”

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Angry, feral, bloodied, morally gray women. They aren’t bad guys, they’re probably the good guy, but that doesn’t mean they cant be fucking raging at the world with raw knuckles and blood on their teeth. I just love an angry woman who struggles with her emotions and just has so much inner conflict but that doesn’t take away from her character or badassery, it adds to it.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

The fake dating or miscommunication troupe. LIKE GUYS JUST TALK. AND TELL EACH OTHER OMFG. the entire like obliviousness of “nah they dont like me” while the They holds their hand and kisses their cheek. MOFO WHAT. it makes me so impatient and like mad HAAHHAHA. its probably because i’m a pretty confrontational person so seeing stuff like that just “cmon bro, USE YO HEAD.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

I have yet to receive a negative comment! Which i was really surprised about tbh. As for deadlines or pressure to update, i just kind of do whatever. I do set goals, but i set them flexible enough that hey, if i can’t do it, that’s okay.

I have a lot of mini goals, like “i want to write this chapter and get it done this week” and then the large goal is “FINISH BY END OF MAY” so i have time.

Actually, now that I think on it, the entire pressure to update thing is probably why i’m waiting until I have all of OL&W written to post it weekly,, cause well. I wouldn’t wanna leave you guys waiting as I tried to write and work out the next chapters and stuff, you know?

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

AAAAAA YOU KNOW I LOVE THESE AHAHAHAH

Have you seen the way the dead dance, World Breaker? They roar, half mad and starving. Do you not wish, do you not hope to see them twist and bend and dance to your will?

Shikamaru snarls, looking behind his shoulders to where his Shadows lay. “Patience.” He spits. “Is of the essence, Things of Ancient. Know your place as the dark you are.”

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

None of my experiences match up to anything I write tbh,,, probably the only thing that is me in my writing is maybe the emotional turmoil? I’m pretty emotionally and mentally mature because from a pretty young age i started forming my own opinions, started looking into the world around us and being like “dude what the fuck this is not what disney advertised”. Then i started talking (read: arguing and debating) with my dad about a lot of it. So, like emotions are kind of hard for me. Like i’m pretty good at controlling them or understanding them, but still. idk its hard to explain ig.

Like the weight of stress, the anger, the sadness. It’s kind of therapeutic to write. Cause i don’t know how to put those feelings to verbal words so writing them really helps.

As for my readers’ image? Probably like some kind of hunched over figure typing away in the dark with a maniacal grin on their face. I honestly don’t know AHHAHAHA but it is fun to think about. I think they’d see me as someone with potential but a lot of room to grow and someone who is imperfect but in a charming way LMAOOOO

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

I’m gonna be real honest. Its probably like a 2. I’m a bit of a control freak so I almost always go in chronological order, my writing is pretty linear. Unless, i get bored and jump to one of my fav parts. It's pretty much i sit down, i open the doc, read over my notes and just start writing.

It’s a little boring to explain AHAHAHA but once i get into the groove of things its really fucking great, I can like feel myself in the world, I can feel what i want the characters to, i love it. I catch myself mouthing the words as i type too, which i find hilarious.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I rather like how raw my writing is sometimes. Which might sound really vain, but i do like the way i word things or describe things. I love juxtaposition and repetition, or making a good ole circle back to some minute detail that wouldn’t stand out until i repeat it at the end and you’re like “omg” AHAHAHAHA.

Like those little poetic snippets or certain wording i just sit back and go “damn thats kinda good nadia! go you!’ HAHAHA

40. How did you come up with the idea for The Intimacy Of Being Understood?

AAAAA this fic is like my first child, my pride and joy LMAO

so the idea initially came when i was reading some fic, idk if it was even naruto, but i was like “i don't like this, but i do like the rain symbolism.” And I knew i wanted to write something kind of slow paced, something a little sad and angsty, but would show KakaSaku slowly but surely falling in love.

Idk if you’ve noticed but a lot of my fics, the pairings don’t change each other dramatically. They accept each other as they are and then they grow with together. Like that acceptance is something i just love writing, its so subtle, it isn’t something you declare. Its simply “I am going to love you. I am going to love you despite your flaws and faults. I am going to love you unconditionally because I know you, I understand you, and there is nothing you could do to drive me away.”

The fic kind of wrote itself after that first scene. I kept going back to the rain, go being ghosts, and resurrection, and the small epiphanies one gets. I wanted to focus on each character’s growth with each other. They didn’t find light in life because of each other, but with each other. And i think that’s my favorite thing about that fic.

I wanted something raw and real and just something beautiful. I’m actually really proud of it tbh. Would i go back and rewrite/edit it? Oh of course! I’d do that with every single one of my fics, but i’m not gonna cause i think its in its rawest form right now. :))))

ask me shit plz

#silly things from silly friends

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noteofnaught · 3 years ago

Text

Dante's memory of his mother

Fiddled with what I had written earlier.

The translation was done for me by deepl (translator).

Please let me know if you think it's strange or if there are any mistakes.

The above is purely a personal opinion

Feel free to discuss and exchange.

Dante's memory of his mother

Dante's memory of his mother, or rather that night, seems to have been formally depicted once in DMC5 since DMC1.

So let's start with the DMC1.

In the DMC1 novel, there is a scene depicting Dante recalling the events of his mother's death.

「母さん、母さん……ねぇ、母さん！」

幼子が、地に倒れ伏した母親の身体を揺さぶり続けている。母親の息がすでに絶えていることは、誰の目にも明らかだ。

だが幼子は──すでに自分でもそうとわかっているのだろうが──無

駄な努力を止める気配はない。

「兄さんもいなくなっちゃったんだ！母さん！ねぇ、母さん！」

亡骸からは未だ、温かな血が地面へと広がり続けている。

幼子は半狂乱だった。

We can see in the description that Dante tries to wake his mother up next to her dead body, even though he realises that she is dead but he is still trying to wake her up. This is a reluctance to accept his mother's death, a normal emotion and attitude for a small child to have.

And the second half of his sentence [兄さんもいなくなっちゃったんだ!] It is as if he had searched for his brother, but his tone is one of powerlessness, of helplessness, of feeling negative about the outcome. So here I want to convey not so much that he has searched for his brother to no avail, but a sense of powerlessness about the situation. He tries to wake up his mother in this way.

It's close to one: Mom, wake up. My brother is not here/is gone and I don't know what to do/I'm scared, please get up Come on.

And then in the scene of Neal's death, Dante recalls this as Neal's sacrifice to protect him, just as his mother did that day.

After that he heard the voice of his father's sword, and out of fear and insecurity he was completely drawn to it, thus obeying its words and changing his name until he gained the power to fight against it.

Then, in the battle with Gilvi, when Gilvi stabbed Dante and was covered by the necklace, Dante's internal activity was as follows.

He credits his mother with protecting him (again) as a child.

Where the mother sacrifices herself to save/protect Dante this is consistent with the DMC1 in-game scene. In DMC1 Dante has a similar line after Trish sacrifices herself to save him. This is the diagram from Precious Tears, with Japanese and English, but both Japanese and English convey that Trish sacrificed herself to save him, as did her own (Dante's) mother.

This is in line with the content of the DMC3 comic.

In the DMC3 comic, Dante has a nightmare at the office after his encounter with Vergil, a dream that is not in fully recreated form but like a fragmentary form.

Here the mother has more dialogue than in DMC1, and it is obvious from the comic's footage that there are huge hands behind her that are about to crush her, and Dante reaches towards her as if to retain his mother, who is feeling very scared, while her mother shouts for him to hurry up and hide/hide and not come out no matter what happens. She is then crushed by the huge hand. In the next panel we can see that the demon looks like a bird and says the terrible words "all die". like it is glowing, and on the next page you can also see the huge three foot shadow on the ground, which also looks like the claws of a bird, and the door behind it is the image of burning, while a long shadow is drawn under his feet.

Of course, we know from the comic that Arkham says there was a fire that day, and Vergil's fearful recollection of the house being on fire makes DMC5 even more certain that it was indeed on fire. The glowing eyes, the long, thin shadows and the subsequent bloodstained house in the comic give the impression that something ominous, unsettling and alien is about to happen.

The cartoon after that also shows us Dante waking up with a jolt, his face covered in water, looking at his hand but with only a drop on his end finger, giving the illusion that he has pulled a hook with someone. There is no sweat on his body, however, and of course there are problems of expression in the painting, so it is not painted.

But it is also true that these same fragmentary memories and dreams give Dante unease and fear.

Well, the memory, the feeling of his mother in Dante's vision so far is the following: his mother told himself to hide and not come out, and sacrificed himself to save himself. It is the great selfless motherly love that belongs to Dante.

Although it was a great mother's love, the memory of that day still makes Dante feel uneasy and afraid. The last memory his mother leaves Dante with is the one that tells Dante to hide, and implicitly the will to let him live. If we add the DMC1 novel to the mix here, it is at this very moment that he is drawn to his father's sword.

Again within these memories and fragments, the mother is rendered unknowable to Vergil, meaning that we do not or cannot see in Dante's recollections that the mother ever went looking for Vergil, if not for the presence of the phrase [兄さんもいなくなっちゃったんだ!] we would not even know in this recollection of Dante that he knew that he had a brother. What we can see or what Dante perceives in his vision is that his mother loved him so much that she died in the process of protecting/saving him.

However, it is also a writing device that can be lifted off as suspense.

But again, this doesn't do any damage to the image of Eva as a great mother, because based on what happened that day, the great mother had to choose to save/protect (potentially the closest to her or that she could find) one child and had to give up the other in the face of force majeure. Dante also never said before DMC5 whether his mother loved Vergil or not, whether she ever sought him out or whether she cared for his brother as well.

What we see in Dante's vision is basically what Dante can know, but it doesn't mean all of it. After all, comics or game scenes have an obligation to show us the scenes, but it doesn't necessarily mean that the characters actually see all the textures. We, as players/readers, are a kind of God's eye and we can notice things that are not right or different (also a storytelling technique) but as protagonists we are not necessarily fully aware or in the same position as us.

I think if you have seen suspense films, you will also often see that kind of bridge, we all know that this bomb is going to explode this person to kill that person, although there is that kind of explicitly shown in the footage, but the protagonist is still unaware of the appearance, many viewers are in order to pinch a cold sweat, for this reason anxious hope that the protagonist quickly realize.

And DMC5 gives us a formal depiction of that day, not through snippets like a nightmare, you can see in the game's overstory description that it says Dante dreamed of what happened before, which means this time you are shown real memories.

After all, a nightmare is not necessarily a real memory, it is a condensation of a certain memory. Sometimes we have a nightmare like dreaming of a giant cockroach because we are afraid, so we reproduce and amplify this fear in our nightmares, so that a small cockroach we see in the house becomes enormous in our nightmares, the giant cockroach is not necessarily real but the fear is real. Of course, we are not talking about the formation of nightmares here, but only about the fact that nightmares and some fragments of our memories with fear and anxiety may be a recreation of what we felt and what existed at the time, but not necessarily a completely real recreation.

In the DMC5 Eva process screen.

There is a slight difference between Japanese subtitles and English subtitles, or even Japanese dubbing.

The overall meaning is actually similar to the DMC3 manga, Eva is all over Dante not moving and telling him to hide/hide, the only difference is that she says more words to make Dante forget his past and forget his name and start a new life from scratch/not being Dante but another person to start over. All also contain the mother's wish for him to live well.

The difference is that in the Japanese subtitles, Eva clearly expresses the possibility that she may not return and so tells Dante to listen well to what she says next, whereas in English it is expressed as I promise you will return.

In the English context, although the mother says she will come back, she immediately reverses the 'come back' in the next sentence, saying that she knows it will be difficult, but you're old enough so you'll have to do this if I don't come back. They both mean the same thing, a mother who knows she might not come back and tells her child what she will do if she doesn't come back, as if making a pact with her child: we agreed that if I don't come back, you will remember to do this, I know you can do it.

If you look closely at the animation of the process, you can even see Dante's hand trembling on the cupboard door, he is very scared.

And the BGM here also happens to be called: More Fear

And of course it is here that we first see Eva looking for Vergil, and it turns out that Eva has looked for Vergil! This doesn't exactly match the information we got on Dante's side earlier.

But are you saying that the DMC1 message contradicts the current message? The DMC1 novel only mentions that he cried next to his mother's body, not that she said anything to him before she died, after which he became obsessed with his father's sword out of fear and terror. And his father's sword statement is the same as his mother's deathbed statement but in a very different series.

The meaning of the mother's words is very clear, the words are all about the desire for her child to live well and to stay away from these things that will hurt him, a good expectation and blessing for her child and the expectation and belief that her child will be able to do so.

「今はその名を隠し、目を眩ませ、逃げ延びよ」

“Now go incognito, confuse the enemy and flee far away!”

The overall meaning of the phrase is that it is dangerous to hide the name, confuse the enemy and run away, and the phrase even takes the form of a command that the child must do what he says.

It's a phrase you'd put in the context of a superior to a subordinate, a captain to his teammates, and in the context of a tense battlefield man telling you to run fast is perfectly fine and appropriate. But Eva's words could only be said by a mother to her child.

When all the memories are linked together, our facts about Eva become a little more complete, and at the same time what effect does it have on Dante?

If his mother only died saving him and he hated his father for her revenge which is quite reasonable, this has to be a blowback from his father's enemies. What is necessary to mention here is what Dante's mindset was regarding DMC1 killing the Black Angel.

In the official publication of the 3124 collection, Dante is said to have killed the Black Angel with "no thought", a word synonymous with "remnant", which is generally translated into Chinese as: regret.

And the DMC1 how-to book has a direct description of his ideas.

Dante is talking here about Mundus killing his mother and brother.

This is not the same as what we generally think of as objective perception. In the game we see over the course of the game, the Black Angel looks as if he still has a heart, so naturally we think there is still salvation, after all, he is still alive.

But here Dante does not think that it was his own hand that killed the Black Angel, but that Mundus killed Vergil.

Of course we can parse this to mean that killing the man who was Vergil means, but even so within this passage of Dante he is not one of the reasons for Vergil's death, he has no responsibility in Vergil's death and is not responsible for any act occurring in the process, but rather Mundus should need to take full responsibility.

In other words, it means that even if it was he who killed the Black Angel in the course of the battle, then he is not responsible for it, but Mundus is responsible for it, because it was Mundus who arranged it, and how could he have killed it if he had not arranged it there, it was not his problem, it was Mundus' problem.

than what we generally think of as objective factual rational logic going into the judgement: although Mundus turned Vergil into a black angel like that, he himself didn't recognise the killing, more or less he was responsible for it or felt particularly guilty that he didn't recognise it.

Dante's logic leans more towards total emotional logic: It's all Mundus' fault!

And in DMC5 just as Vergil used to think it was a matter of not having enough power, now it's a matter of having too much power, and now that Mundus is gone, not recognizing Vergil (V) for killing Vergil can only be his active choice, not a passive one, and it can only be that his responsibility has nothing to do with Mundus.

Returning to the mother, what arises is in fact the same question. If before it was his mother's great love for him, which was selfless and exclusive to him, now, at this moment, her love is equal, not just his but also his brother's. The "he" whose mother sacrificed herself to save him in the flashback (DMC5) is not really a "he". His mother's did not hesitate to rush out to save her brother, knowing the danger.

Of course we must also mention nell, arguably the designer of Dante's double shot.

In the novel, Thor wants Neal to commission and pay a deposit for a double gun for himself, one of which is a secret-made gun he stole from a robbery, and the other is the same type of medieval gun that Neal himself received.

nell is so good to Tony, as is clearly described in the DMC1 novel, because Tony looks so much like her child, and her love for her child is projected onto Tony, and she holds on to her job before she eventually dies, not only because of her love for Tony but also her love for her own child, and more so for the work ethic she has taken on this job and should complete.

But all the same, the person she missed most on her deathbed was her own child, something Tony could never replace, nor could he if he wanted to, which of course didn't mean that nell's love for Tony was false, nell's love for Tony was also real, indeed it was love, it was precisely because of the person of her own child that nell loved so deeply that Tony was loved by her.

Whether it is nell or the mother Eva, their love for their child is not solely Dante's alone and only his, or why they love Dante/Tony, it is because they both love their child, and if they were not such, then Dante would naturally not be loved by them.

His mother's protection and sacrifice is something he feels and desires, something that is personal and emotional for him. It also explains Dante's statement to Trish in DMC1 that "his mother died to protect herself", because Trish, like his mother in his feelings and understanding, has what he calls a "heart".

Of course, because DMC1 is entirely Dante's vision of storytelling (DMC1 is Dante's story), his mother is human in Dante's eyes, and Trish acts like his mother to protect him, or even Dante's ideal mother, so Trish is also a person with a "heart", as to how Trish feels or if that is the case. We will not discuss this issue here.

Surely the mother did not save Dante? This is necessarily a negative, but was it to save him that his mother died, or to hold back the demon who tried to kill him so that he could escape? Again, that is a negative. Wouldn't his mother have done that in that situation? That too is a negative. Wouldn't Dante have wanted his mother? No. Must Dante have never been afraid of not wanting his mother to stay by his side to give him security and protection? Did Dante only want to protect his mother and never wanted her to stay by his side to protect him? All the information above seems to be in the negative.

DMC5 is simply a reinterpretation and addition of information from the past, the only thing overturned is Dante's belief that his mother died to save himself.

This message provides us with an explanation of the origin of Dante's hatred for his brother, as is often the case in many films and novels, in which he blames the child for the death of his beloved wife, even though it was not the child's fault, and believes that if it had not been for him, his wife would not have died. He stubbornly believes that his mother died to save him, not to save his brother, and not because of this he is unable to love his brother; he acts as if he wishes he could have the mother's love all to himself.

For if we are to acknowledge the fact that his mother died to save his brother, we also have to acknowledge something else, and that is that he equally did not want to be left/abandoned by his mother.

Of course, this is not a contradiction or a conflict; it is only natural that a child should be afraid and want to protect his mother, and it is equally natural that he should want to protect her.

The above is purely a personal opinion

#devil may cry

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eatsleepandsupernatural · 4 years ago

Text

Saved - Chapter Eight

Saved Masterlist

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Angst, Character Resurrection, excerpts from 14x08

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hey! The following chapter does contain some aspects of the Supernatural episode Byzantium. I would like to just state that I do not own those particular paragraphs of this chapter or of course the characters (but we already knew that). You probably didn’t expect the chapter to go this way, it was my plan from the beginning because of an idea I had, can’t tell you yet. Anyway, hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy! XX

Tags: @akshi8278 @goddessofmischiefs @flutistbyday2020 @samsgirl93

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Tossing and turning, surrounding yourself with your Alphas scent, no matter how hard you tried, you can’t sleep. Your thoughts are on Jack, the image of him collapsing on the floor, coughing up blood, is replaying over and over in your mind. He had quickly become your closest friend, keeping you company while Sam and Dean went on hunts. You had made a habit of sneaking into the ‘Dean Cave’, cooking up some popcorn and watching movies for hours at a time. The way Jack’s eyes fixed on the T.V like an excited puppy always made you smile. You had barely known him, but the memory of him passing away, his hand grasped firmly in yours, was overwhelming.

You shove the covers off and leave your room in search of Dean and some comfort. You had gone to bed once he and Cas brought Sam back safely after he had left the bunker, feeling the need for some alone time. Hours have passed and your need for your Alpha grew stronger every second.

You find him passed out in the kitchen, surrounded by empty glasses and half drunk bottles of whiskey, snoring louder than you had ever heard.

‘Dean...Dean, you shouldn’t sleep here.’ You speak softly into his ear and gently shake his shoulder in an effort to wake him up. ‘Dean.’

‘I don’t think he’s waking up anytime soon, Y/N.’ You turn around to face Cas, who is watching you from the doorway. ‘Why are you awake?’

‘I never went to sleep, couldn't.’ You admit quietly, knowing what was going to come next, silently wishing it was Sam who had found you.

Cas glances between you and Dean before sighing and holding out his hand, ‘It would be unfair to wake him now. Come on, I’ll get you settled.’

You place your hand in his and let him lead you back to your room, but you don’t make it easy for him, dragging your feet along the way. There is no hiding the fact that you are frustrated with him, with everyone. Jack is dead and they are still hiding things. You want to know why Jack was sick in the first place, and for how long. You want to know why, whenever you ask about anything supernatural related you are ignored.

‘Y/N, what are you doing? Aren’t you tired?’ Cas asks when you pull your hand from his and take a few steps back to put some space between you.

‘I am tired. I am tired of being kept in the dark. Did you ever think that maybe I would have been able to help Jack if I had known what was going on? He was my friend, and I lost him, and I don’t even know why. All you guys do is keep me in the dark for ‘my protection’, but one day, that’s going to come back and bite you in the arse. I may have been afraid of the idea of monsters being real when I first moved in, but I’ve seen Sam and Dean come back from enough hunts to accept that truth now. I’m ready to fight, to help. Dean, he is never going to let me near a gun. I need you to let me help, teach me to fight Cas, please.’

Cas stares at you, surprised by your outburst. He frowns for a moment, deep in thought, before approaching you slowly. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I will talk to Dean.’

You roll your eyes at his response and slouch your shoulders. ‘Like that will do...Hey!’

Cas cuts you off mid sentence, grabbing you around the waist and placing two fingers to your forehead. ‘Go to sleep Y/N’

‘Y/N, wake up,’

‘Omega.’ A firm hand on your shoulder and the smooth voice of your Alpha draws you from a peaceful, deep sleep. Your eyes meet Deans tired ones, the bags sitting below them prominent.

‘Morning’. You sit up against the bed head, accepting the glass of water Dean offers you.

‘Afternoon, actually.’

‘Stupid Angel.’ You grunt, making Dean chuckle softly.

‘I had an interesting conversation with Cas this morning.’ He informs you, turning serious once again. ‘He told me you had trouble sleeping, went for a late night stroll.’

‘Didn’t realise that was something I wasn’t allowed to do.’ You shoot back. You aren’t sure where the attitude is coming from, but you are sick of Dean’s Alpha behaviour.

‘I didn’t say that.’ He speaks quickly, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to read your thoughts. ‘But he told me what you spoke about, and I’m sorry. Truly. My intentions were always to keep you safe, and in doing so, I’ve pushed you away. And you’re right, chances of you holding a gun in this lifetime, or any other lifetime are pretty small. But you’re also right, that I have been letting the Alpha in me control my actions, and I have been unfair to you. If you believe that you are ready, you can be put on research duty. That means books only, no knives, no guns, no ghosts. We got a deal?’

You stare at your Alpha with wide eyes, shocked and disbelieving. Dean stands up from the bed and smiles down at you, ‘You coming? You might want to get dressed. We have a guest.’

You take a few minutes to compose yourself, washing your face and brushing your teeth in the basin, before getting dressed and leaving your room in search of the others.

The library is not how you left it last night, furniture has been moved to the side, and Sam and Dean stand next to a table in the middle of what looks to be a very intense discussion making you pause at the door and hide behind the wall, you decide waiting out the conversation is the best idea.

‘Use the soul-sucking magic? Boy, that lady’s a peach.’ Dean’s tone of voice surprises you, and you realise this was one of the things he was trying to hide from you, his hunter side.

‘Listen, we talked about this.’ Sam interjects.

‘I know. Gotta happen. It’s the only way. Right. But I don’t like rolling the dice on some psycho ex-angel killer.’

‘I don’t love it, either, but taking risks, making crappy deals--that’s what we do.’

‘Yeah, and they usually bite us in the arse.’ You smile at Dean’s choice of words, remembering what you had said to Cas last night.

‘So, what do you want to do about it? Leave Jack in the morgue? Burn him?’ That’s the moment you realise that they were planning to do something about Jack, to try and bring him back. You had heard snippets of conversations before, you knew that both Sam and Dean had died at least once.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Because, for me, not doing this--that-- that would be like letting him die all over again.’ At Sam’s words your heart almost breaks all over again and you struggle to hold back tears.

‘I want Jack back, too okay? I do. I just don’t trust Lily. Especially with my little eavesdropper.’

If you hadn’t had that conversation with Dean ten minutes ago, your heart would have dropped to your stomach. You straighten your back and peek around the doorway with a small smile on your face. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’

Dean rolls his eyes but waves you over, and you reach him the same time Cas comes up the steps looking more than stressed.

‘You got a twenty on Jack?’ Dean asks, eyes pleading for a yes.

‘Not exactly. Angel Radio is playing a distress signal.’

‘Awesome’, He replies, letting his arms fall, surely mirroring his disappointment.

‘All of Heaven’s gates are open, even the ones that Metatron closed.’

‘What could that mean?’ Sam asks.

‘I don’t know but it’s not good.’

‘More awesome.’ Dean says, making you reach out and grab his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

‘All right, well you go. We got Lily. When we’re ready, we’ll pray.’ Sam says, hoping that the solution will be enough.

Cas shares a look with Sam and Dean before walking away and to do whatever he had to do.

‘What’s going on?’ You ask, turning back to face the two Alphas.

‘We may have a way to bring Jack back. It’s risky, but we figured it’s worth a shot. You can hang around for now, but if I need you to leave later, you have to trust me. We’ve never done this before Y/N.’

You are tempted to argue but something in Sam’s eyes makes you change your mind. He is watching you carefully, eyes wide, pleading with you to reassure Dean that you’ll listen.

‘Got it, just tell me to go make myself some lunch, and I’m gone.’ As soon as you see Dean’s entire body relax you know you have made the right decision and Sam shoots you the biggest smile, to which you respond with an eye roll. It’s as if they don’t believe you can behave.

‘Alright, hand me that glass bottle would ya?’ Dean gestures behind you as he moves to fiddle with some paint and a bowl on the table.

You pick it up, inspecting the clear liquid inside before handing it over and you and Sam watch as he pours the liquid in and stirs the paint around. He picks up the bowl and holds out a piece of paper for him to copy from and you watch in awe as Dean expertly paints a large symbol on the wooden floor.

‘The instruction manual’. You had been watching Dean so closely you hadn’t heard the footsteps of another person approach the three of you and you jump away in shock as she hands an old leather-bound book to Sam.

‘It’s alright Y/N,’ Sam reassures you before turning to face the older woman who you assume must be Lily gives you a questioning look before turning back to Sam. ‘Thanks. All right, we’re almost set. Just got to get one more thing. I’m gonna go grab it.’ He says, he gives you a second reassuring smile before walking off. You watch him go, as he does, he grabs Dean’s attention and nods in the direction of you and the strange woman.

Dean puts the bowl and brush down on the ground as he stands up and walks towards you, watching where he steps. He gives you a quick smile before addressing Lily.

‘You know, I think we got off to a bad start. Um, I guess I should be thanking you.’

‘Apology accepted.’ You frown at Lily’s response and her attitude towards your Alpha, but you stay quiet, unwilling to test any boundaries on the first day. ‘Are you going to introduce me?’

‘Uh, right. This is Y/N, my mate. Y/N, this is Lily Sunder, an old...acquaintance.’

‘Nice to meet you.’ You nod from your corner with a small smile, not a fan of strangers. Lily was a beta, but she gives off a weird vibe that makes you uncomfortable.

‘There, you’re acquainted, great. Except, something’s been bothering me. Uh, you know, if this magic of yours is so great...why’d you stop using it? You’re letting yourself get old. You’re letting yourself die. Why? Why risk going to hell if you don’t have to? There’s something you’re not telling us.’

You raise your eyebrows at Dean’s words and look to Lily, waiting for her answer. Is this magic too risky to use on Jack?

‘When Ishim took my daughter, I swore I’d kill him, even if it meant burning my entire soul. But it didn’t. I have a sliver, a whisper of my soul left.’

‘And?’ Dean prompts, getting impatient.

‘May--my daughter, my little girl--is in heaven. And if there is still a piece of my soul...Now do you understand?’

You are deep in thought when Sam comes back carrying a box filled to the brim with candles. You watch as he places them down at different points on the symbol like he had done it hundreds of times before.

‘Sweetheart.’ Your head whips up at the sound of Dean calling from the other side of the room, breaking you from your thoughts. ‘Why don’t you go make yourself that lunch we talked about.’ You glance back over to Sam who’s already looking at you, one eyebrow raised, a reminder of your promise.

‘I was getting hungry anyway. You know where I’ll be if you need me.’ Sending your Alpha one last long look before making your way to the kitchen.

You take your time, deciding to make a pasta salad, one of your favourite home-made dishes from before your parents became alcoholics.

Twenty minutes later, one potato salad and a cup of tea, your curiosity gets the better of you. You quietly make your way down the hallway and poke your head around the corner to see Jack sitting up on the table saying words you don’t understand, Sam and Dean standing either side of him.

‘Was that my soul?’ He asks, looking up at Dean.

‘How do you feel?’ Dean queries, his hands hovering over Jack as if he is expecting something to go wrong.

‘Good. I feel...good.’

Sam smiles as Dean gives Jack a quick hug.

‘It’s good to have you back’, he says with his hand resting on Jack’s shoulder.

You are about to join them when you notice Lily sitting in your favourite chair, umoving.

‘Lily, thank you,’ Dean speaks from beside Jack.

‘Yeah. Lily..’ Sam’ voice is halted when he sees Lily.

‘Lily?’ Dean calls once more but there is no response.

‘How about Jack and I go back to his room, I can help him get settled?’ You ask tentatively from the door.

The Alpha’s turn to face you faster than you thought possible. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Sam asks, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back a smile.

‘Long enough. I got bored.’ You smile at Jack who slowly turns around to meet gaze.

Dean rolls his eyes at your excuse for leaving the kitchen but keeps his opinions to himself all the same. ‘You wanna hang out with Y/N for a bit Jack? We’ve got some clean-up to do.’

Jack nodded, ‘I like the sound of that,’ he says getting off the table and making his way over to you on wobbly legs.

‘I’ve changed my mind, why don’t we break into Dean’s room instead.’ You suggest, wagging your eyebrows at him in excitement.

‘Can we watch Star Wars? I like that one.’

‘Jack, we can watch anything you want.’

#supernautral #superntural #alpha dean winchester #alpha dean x omega reader #supernatural abo #jack kline #castiel #spn 14x08

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vventure · 4 years ago

Photo

Pairing: Ennoshita Chikara x American!reader

Genre: Fluff

Plot: Rain? Not ideal, but Chikara won’t let it ruin a perfect opportunity.

HaikyuuWriters’ Monthly Prompt Event - Prompt: Summer

Word Count: 2020

Warnings: None

All characters are aged to 20+

A/N: Me? Writing fluff? More likely than you think djfkd My family has been going to the lake every summer for about 15 years now, so I wanted to share a little bit of that while also including Ennoshita and his Capricorn stellium. From my research, those with Capricorn stelliums in their natal charts like to plan in advance, and the best way forward is through. Hope you enjoy! I tried to make it enjoyable for those who aren’t American as well <3

Dappled light sparkled over white knuckles as the small convertible wound its way around sharp bends under your direction. Your begrudging passenger, Ennoshita, held your hand as though his digits were a snapping turtle that’d finally caught its prey. He was no coward, but the bottomless ravines caging the road coupled with the seasoned driving of a person unafraid of kinks in the path of the vehicle set his teeth on edge.

“You don’t trust my driving?” You queried, peeking over to discover his normally shiftless face uncharacteristically tense behind his dark sunglasses.

You’d rented the car when your flight landed in America and Ennoshita insisted he would drive the entire way to the lakeside cabin in the mountains. Having never driven while placed on the left side of the car he did remarkably well; it was a treat to observe his handsome profile as warm air blustered through his short locks.

The confidence he’d possessed then evaporated the moment the road urged him to maneuver around a curve, prompting your boyfriend to pull over and admit he needed his designated passenger to take over, explaining that since you’d grown up driving ‘this way’ you should be the one to do it.

You understood his hesitation. When you’d moved to Japan for university, the only transportation you felt comfortable using was the train, the bus, or your own two feet. These modes took you far, but Ennoshita took you farther by offering to drive when you were too intimidated to even learn.

In this moment, the regret rolling off of him in waves was palpable even in the open air of the compact car.

“I trust you, I do,” he spoke feebly. “It’s just that...are you sure you’re okay with driving? It’s been years since you’ve done this.”

“I’m sure, baby,” came your response laced with finality. You lifted his hand to your lips, skimming them delicately over the smooth skin of his knuckles as you approached another twist in the road.

“Pay attention!” He cried, his rock-solid composure slipping as his free hand clapped over his eyes; the car continued to glide smoothly along the asphalt.

“I am,” you intoned against his hand before smiling. “Relax! You never get this worked up.”

“Don’t like when plans change,” he mumbled, a pout creasing his visage.

“What?”

“I just don’t like when things don’t go the way I planned.”

“I know,” you said with an inaudible sigh. “Don’t stress, just go with the flow.”

“Easier said than done,” came his garbled response that you chose to ignore. This was just the way that your boyfriend was: he was happiest when things worked out exactly in the manner he had planned.

“We’re almost there, smooth sailing now.”

You could see him visibly relax from the corner of your eye as the road straightened out ahead, the turn onto the graveled drive leading to the lake house approaching quickly. The view that each person navigating the narrow road gained when pulling into the driveway of the wood-clad cabin made the rattling of brains over potholes and oversized crushed rocks worthwhile.

Pine trees so tall they could tickle the sky framed the expanse of the crystalline lake with powder white clouds embedded in pristine cerulean reflected along its surface, inviting any passerby to dip their toes into the chill water.

Hopping out of the convertible, you were eager to grab the groceries and assist Ennoshita inside when the lake captured your attention. This happened every time your family visited your go-to location for summer vacation.

There was something about the lake that made it your solace. Not so much the lake, but the memories shared here, like kayaking through hidden alcoves at dawn, swimming out as far as possible until your brain begged you to go back lest you be captured by a non-existent lake monster, and burning marshmallows over a fire that blazed too hot for too short a time as mosquitos buzzed away from your bug-sprayed skin.

The lake acted as a looking glass for you, sending snippets of the past through your mind as you leaned against the front of the car.

“[Y/n]?” Ennoshita prodded, his arms laden with plastic bags. “I’ve got everything, are you coming?”

“Oh!” you responded, snapping from your reverie with a small smile. “Let me help you.”

His mind was almost always consumed with plans. Planning for becoming a physical therapist from the beginning of high school. Planning the perfect way to ask if you’d like to see a movie with him after he met you in a general education class at university. Planning out what you both were looking for in a shared apartment and how to make it the best location for your careers. Planning how to make your relationship permanent.

He hated the saying “Change is inevitable,” and throughout life he’d worked to ensure that no matter what happened he stuck to his guns and completed the task at hand, so why did this sudden alteration of his image for the day feel different?

Dread had settled in Ennoshita’s spine, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing stock-straight as he peered out over the tumultuous lake from the enclosed porch of the cabin.

The day had risen beautifully with the sun beaming along the peaked waves as boats skipped across the water. He was overjoyed to wake up to your beautiful face glowing in the morning light. Although the itinerary for the day seemed run-of-the-mill--preparing barbecue chicken and then enjoying a bonfire once it was dusk--there was something special that he wanted to spring on you that demanded perfection from the atmosphere.

The atmosphere was a fickle entity to work with, and his optimism surrounding the day was lashed down by pouring rain. It hammered against the once tranquil water and afforded the lake an ominous appearance, almost as if a monster was preparing for the perfect moment to show its grisled face. Dark thoughts were a hallmark of his mind on its descent to self-doubt, though he rarely stood at this precipice due to thorough plotting.

There was no way that he could explain this to you without revealing his hidden agenda. How was a chicken barbecue and bonfire supposed to be a special occasion? You’d tell him to move the dinner plans to tomorrow and order pizza in, problem easily solved.

“Storms roll in fast,” you explained, your voice rising in volume with every step you took towards him. These were the first real words you’d spoken to him that weren’t whispered affections across the valley between your pillows in the dark. Translating for each set of parents had been all-consuming, but rewarding, leaving no time for conversations between lovers.

“I have to start the coals,” he said, placing his warm hand between your shoulder blades. “Where can I find an umbrella?”

“Let’s just order--”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, kissing you on the cheek. “The chicken won’t be good tomorrow anyway.”

“There’s a big yellow umbrella in the coat rack just inside the doorway,” you explained. “Let me at least help you.”

“No, stay in here so you can translate, it won’t take me that long to get this cooked up.”

Ennoshita quickly snatched the bag of marinated chicken from the fridge and the cheery yellow umbrella and made his way down to the grill to find your father standing over it, the coals smoking as they heated.

“You didn’t have to do that, sir,” he called in english to the man standing dangerously close to such high heat. “I was just coming down. Why don’t you go inside, I don’t want you to get sick.”

It was thoughtful of him to assist and save Ennoshita the time it would take to get everything set up. Now, all he had to do was dump the coals and start grilling. Rain sizzled along the white-cast charcoal nuggets as they cascaded into the belly of the grill before he put the grate over top. Water was already accumulating along the slotted metal as it sat waiting for food to be placed upon it. This wouldn’t work, the downpour might affect his ability to cook everything thoroughly.

So Ennoshita sacrificed his comfort for the fate of dinner.

‘Not ideal,’ was the understatement of the year as Ennoshita stood in a cloth hoodie with rain soaking him all the way through. He steadfastly held the yellow umbrella over the hot grill as the marinated chicken cooked and took on flavor as though it were another sunny day at the lake.

No matter what, this was going to happen. He wouldn’t let rain ruin this evening.

It was fine if he was soaked, he could change quickly and meet everyone for dinner before the chicken was too cold. The best way around any obstacle is through.

The sound of the rain was so consuming that he hadn’t realized you were approaching until the rain was no longer sluicing off his face, a warm hand now firmly against his back. Looking up, he spotted a black umbrella now hovering over him to protect him from the elements. And to his left, there you were in your hoodie, your palm against his abdomen, and your eyes full of concerned love.

“What’re you doing out here?” He asked before turning to examine the food.

“I told you I’d help.”

“Don’t they need a translator?”

“The language of afternoon judge shows is universal,” you quipped teasingly, to which he returned his usual bored look. “They’re okay for now, I think they were just preparing the side dishes.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said.

“But I wanted to. Besides, we haven’t talked in days. I miss you.”

He smiled down at you, drinking in how your face still glowed with an inner beauty in the murky twilight and how the shine in your eyes never dulled by any undesirable circumstances.

Giving you a small peck on the lips, he finally tore his eyes from your face and deemed the chicken ready for the family dinner.

Laughter flitted through the open screens of the porch where Ennoshita stood surveying the sight that greeted him once he was dried off and changed: five of the most important people to him stood around the fire pit. The rain had cleared to reveal a nearly blinding cherry sunset capped with deep plum, its appearance reflected on the now-calm lake it oversaw.

Japanese and English were quickly replaced by laughter as you reminisced and told jokes over the past, even Ennoshita’s least favorite childhood story of putting on a musical all about his stuffed animals for his mother surfaced in the jovial atmosphere.

Something about the way you stood, your back turned so you were merely a silhouette in the saturated light, had his eyes locked onto your form as you swirled and sipped from the wine glass in your hand between the two families he hoped to unite.

People spoke of moments where everything dropped away and it was only the other person in front of them. Things often fell away for Ennoshita when he was focused on achieving a goal, superfluous people and emotions blurring, so he thought he knew what these so-called people were talking about. He was wrong.

Now he knew, watching your head tilt back to free the lilt of your laugh, this was the moment he’d been missing out on. Perhaps he’d experienced it during your first kiss, or even when you’d said yes to moving in with him—but this was different. The moment he’d planned this entire trip for had come, and he ceased his nervous fiddling.

Although the day wasn’t perfect, you were.

“Chikara,” came your sweet call, your upturned face adorned with an affectionate smile reserved for him alone. “Come join us!”

The sound of your voice drew him from his thoughts, the square velvet box he’d been fidgeting with dropping to the bottom of his pocket as he made the journey downstairs to join the group.

Any plan could change as long as he had you.

Taglist: @miyuswriting @burnthoneymint @bb-noya

#Ennoshita Chikara #haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuuwriters 0620 #Ennoshita Chikara x reader #Chikara Ennoshita #Haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#hq!!#Haikyuu!! x reader #fluff #Haikyuu!! fluff

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