#i made a throne account because i saw someone else with one and i thought their wishlist was hilarious

[hydnes]

thank you

[wutheringmights]

I gotta know, did you ever end up reading Captive Prince series. I sooo want to know your review of it

I actually read the first book back in April. I actually did write a very long and very negative review for it, but I made the mistake of posting it to the tag. I got blasted for it, which was fair all things considered. I was really harsh, and it wasn't right of me to put something that negative into the main tag. I ended up deleting the post.

My library refuses to get the rest of the series and I refuse to spend money on this, so I think my experiment is over for now.

...I don't think this post is going to end up in the tags again, so I can quickly summarize my thoughts on the first book in case you're interested.

The things I like about the book begin and end with Laurent. He's really well written, and I enjoyed whenever the limited POV allowed us any glimpse into his machinations. The way Pacat implied his history of sexual abuse was masterfully done.

I also like Nicaise. Super complex set-up, and I was looking forward to seeing where else could take him.

Ok, time for the things I didn't like

The structure of the story is a total mess. If the politics are truly the main drive of the plot, then we needed to see Daimen in his home country, before the cold opening of being kidnapped. It would establish his POV, the worldbuilding, and one of the main antagonists far better than a few quick bathroom musings could.

Because the exposition was cut short, you get the impression that the world building and therefore the politics do not matter and are just set-dressing for the smut

The smut wasn't even sexy, even if you take into account the potential kinky fantasy of the whole thing

Generally, I think Pacat could have saved herself a lot of trouble by renaming "sex slave" to "concubine." What little we learn of how the sex slave system works sounds a lot more like concubines, and using the term "slave" invites the reader to think way too hard about the human rights aspect of this whole thing

Damian really is the weak point of the story for me. He's far too naive for someone expected to take the throne. I saw a few arguments that he's bad at politics because he's supposed to be good at warfare. Which, okay. But this was really basic court drama, and he made a lot of dumb decisions (like trying to escape when the castle would be under alert for a potential murder), and I do not think naivety was an intended character flaw by the author.

Plus, Damian does a lot of inner musings about how the sex slave system is a lot better in his kingdom. Again, because the world building was skipped over, I have no idea if this is him having a warped perspective or if this is the actual text of the book. And I really do not want to a story to tell me there is a humane way to have a slave (which would be avoided IF THEY WERE CALLED CONCUBINES)

The book really did not have a lot of plot going on, and it was mostly Damian being shoved from scene to scene. I know that fans of the series will argue that the book is not meant to be alone, but I'm sorry. I can't accept that. If you sell me a multi-volume story, there has to be something close to a satisfying narrative in each volume. I refuse the walk down the path of letting a story promise me that it'll get better Next Time.

Finally, Pacat's prose is not great. It's really obvious that she has a pedestrian narrative voice. That's fine on its own. All of her attempts to elevate her prose to sound more in-line with a high-concept fantasy led to some really awkward phrasing that was more distracting than helpful.

Honestly, I would read more of the series just to see if it improves as much as it is supposed to. But my library is oddly picky about fulfilling requests. So I guess that's where we're gonna leave it.

[literaryuppsala]

Your love is bright as ever (even in the shadows)

Title: XO by Beyoncé

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader (fem)

Summary: Ubbe is the prince charming of this fairy tale.

Words:  6kish

Warnings: This is fluff, It doesn’t even look like I had written It, but there’s smut too, so yeah, I had to. P in V (unprotected because they hadn’t invented condoms back then, but you have no excuse today, wrap it), there’s oral sex (fem receiving), there’s kind of a breeding kink very slightly?? There’s a mention of a cheating husband since Ubbe kisses the reader when he’s still married to crazy Margrethe, but I guess It’s well deserved. There’s mentions of death, blood and violence too. I guess that’s all, either way proceed with caution. I used a few lines from the show too, so credits to Michael Hirst. 

A/N: I deleted my other account (stylinsonliving) and all my works will be reposted here, any doubt send me an ask. This was an ask I’ve been sent a while ago on my other account, so anon, If you’re out there seeing this, it’s for you, with the happy ending and all that. My asks are always open: you can request a filthy smut, a relationship advice and my political opinion, I’ll answer to all of it. Feedback is always welcome and my mistakes are always mine.  

Filth below the cut, enjoy ♥:

***

The ship docked and your heart jumped inside your chest. As the seer foresaw years ago, your fate wasn’t in your homeland, but in Kattegat, the famous city. You just never expected to arrive there as a slave to be sold. You and the other women were tied up and cuffed together, and were dragged out of the ship, through the harbor, to the market. Aligned side by side, you and the others didn’t dare to raise your heads, eyes trained on the ground waiting.

Your whole family was killed, your parents, brothers and sisters, your husband to be, all of them dead and gone, for whatever reason, even after all your wounds, you made it out of the attack alive, full of pain and scars, but breathing. The memories were still vivid, still burning in the back of your mind, reminding you what you lost at every new heartbeat.  

People came by and went away, almost like they didn’t even see you there, the commotion around the others wasn’t the same around you, too small to make a good slave, or so you thought.

After a few minutes, all the conversation stopped and you sighed heavily. Muffled footsteps caught your attention but you still didn’t look up, still waiting in silence until you heard a firm, yet soft voice, crossing through the silence like a knife.

“What is happening here?” She asked.

“They’re from Hedeby.” The man who brought you here answered politely and your body shuddered when he mentioned your homeland. “They have a new earl. Heard he is not into insubordination.”

“Didn’t hear about It.” She insisted, but he didn’t answer. “I’ll take all of them. Send them to the great hall.”

You gulped softly when you felt a bump, your body being dragged again for a few more minutes until you entered the great hall. You looked around carefully, saw the few people there gathered around staring at you and whispering to each other.

“Untie them.” 

You heard that same voice ordering and you widen your eyes, finally looking up when you felt someone softly touch your hands. When you made eye contact with the woman untying your hands, she smiled at you, touching carefully the deep wounds on your wrists. 

“I’m Lagertha.”

The name sent shivers down your spine, you snapped, looking up towards the throne. Standing there, was the most famous shieldmaiden of all Norway, she was even more beautiful than the stories could ever say, she had a soft, caring smile on her face, looking at you all with nothing but tenderness in her eyes. 

“Here, you’ll never be slaves, you can serve in my house as free women If that’s what you want or you can leave, go back to your homes or find some place else to live, it’s your decision to make.”

You heard of Lagertha’s kindness, but never imagined to be the one to feel it. All of the women looked at each other in shock, no one dared to make the first move, until one of them took a step forward.

“Come.” Lagertha said, going down the stairs towards the girl.

“Can I- Can I go back to Hedeby? What’s left from my family is still there.”

“I’ll have them set a boat for you…” She answered kindly, holding the girl’s hands. “And for anyone else who wants to go with her.”

It didn’t take long before all of the girls decided their fates, a few went back to Hedeby, others asked for help to go somewhere else, soon, you were the only one still there, standing alone at the corner of the great hall. You didn’t know what to do, for the first time in your life you had no one, you were alone, had no family to come back to, no dream to pursue, nothing to call yours. A few tears gathered on the corners of your eyes and threatened to fall, your heart dropped on your stomach, the emptiness was unbearable.

“And her?” You heard someone ask, imagined It referred to you.

“She didn’t say anything, sat there by herself since she came here.”

You didn’t dare to look, too ashamed, but heard when someone approached and carefully crouched in front of you, warm hands kindly on your knees made you look up, finding Lagertha’s beautiful baby blues staring at you.

“And you? Why are you here hiding in the shadows?” She asked softly.

“I have no one to come back to, nowhere else to be.” You answered shyly.

“You’re home then.” She smiled and touched your face.

After this, Lagertha took you under her wings. As she promised, if you wanted to serve in her house as a free woman, you could, and that’s what you did. Beyond that, the shieldmaiden took care of you, protected you. Later, you learned she had lost a daughter at a young age and you were as old as she would be If she was alive, that would explain her tenderness towards you and Bjorn was always sailing, she was a mother without any children and you were a daughter without a mother.

Your connection was instantaneous, in such a small amount of time, you learned to love her, care for her, the feeling was mutual, she licked your wounds until all of them became deep, but healed scars and within a year or so you could finally say you were a happy woman again.

But that wasn’t a constant for you, it could never be.

As you cleaned the table you heard muffled footsteps walking faster behind you, you already knew who they belonged to.

The basket found the wood of the table with a thud, the noise startled you a bit and you squeaked in surprise, looking towards the sound with narrowed eyes.

“Go wash this.” Her voice was nothing but an angry hiss, and she didn’t bother looking at you.

“After I clean the table.” You answered, looking back at your own hands.

“No. Leave it.” She said It again, this time holding your forearm and stopping you from doing what you needed.

You looked at her skeptic. “I’ll do It after I finish this.” You answered again, pulling your arm from her grip with a sharp movement.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She grunted. “Go. Now.”

“I don’t work for you Margrethe.” You angrily answered, dropping the cloth over the table and leaving her behind, hoping she wouldn’t follow you. You were wrong.

“You are definitely talking nonsense. You work for the queen. I’m her son’s wife.” She insisted, running after you until she could grab your forearm again, stopping you on your tracks and turning your body with a violent move.

“I’m as free as you.” You pulled your arm from her grip one more time, her nails causing red scratches on your skin. She smirked.

“I don’t see how you can be on the same level as me.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Leave me alone.” You turned and re-started walking.

“Margrethe.”  You heard a deep, husky voice coming from behind you, but didn’t dare to look, you knew who was talking. Her husband would probably scold her for tormenting you, you smiled to yourself, but that wouldn’t stop her from doing It again when he wasn’t around.

Ubbe was a great man, a great husband, Margrethe should be thankful to the gods for their blessing, putting a man like him in her life, but she surely didn’t know what to do with that luck.

“She is not worth this frown on your face.” That was Ivar, the youngest of all the Ragnarssons never ceased to put a smile on your face.

“How do you know who put this frown on my face?” You narrowed your eyes, looking down at the man at your feet.

“Who else?” He squeaked, looking up at you with a smirk.

“You know me too well, prince Ivar.” You sighed, both of you now walking together towards the river.  

“You really shouldn’t let her get under your skin; you know?” He insisted, crawling by your side.

“She treats me so badly. I never did anything to deserve her hate towards me, I’ve always been nothing different than kind to her.��� Ivar laughed when you finished, and you asked curiously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just know, she doesn’t need any particular reason to be mean towards anyone, you know what she does to me.” He continued hard, running out of breath from the long path.

“She’s not fair to any of us.” You hummed under your breath, both of you reaching the riverside, sitting under a tree.

“Life isn’t fair either, but you don’t see me complaining.” He answered looking over the river, like he just told you such great news.

“You complain all the time, prince Ivar.” You laughed shyly.

“Shut up.”

From all of them, Ivar would be the one you grew closer to, it seemed to you he would understand how broken someone can be and still have the strength to keep pushing forward. He knew the feeling, he knew you. Inadvertently he grabbed your hand, taking It to his lips giving you a fast kiss and a reassuring squeeze, knowing full well how awful It was for you to be the target of Margrethe’s hatred.

“Thank you for your company, prince Ivar.” You whispered, looking at him tenderly.

Later that evening, all of you were sitting at the table, talking excitedly with each other. Queen Aslaug e and Queen Lagertha had their eyes on each other, sometimes gazing through the great hall with beautiful smiles on their faces. You and Torvi sat side by side whispering about Bjorn and their kids, how he seemed to be still getting used to their stamina, Hali was running around while the big, bulky man ran behind him holding little Asa in his arms. Their little family was something you secretly envied, especially since you still hadn’t built yours. You truly loved them, but you still wanted to have what they had.    

“My cup is empty.” Margrethe’s voice startled you, when you looked at her, she smirked at you, shaking her cup.

“Go fill it up.” Ivar answered before you did.

“Why? When we have her to do It?” She hissed, clearly lightheaded from all the ale running through her blood.

The silence ran through the great hall, all of the eyes were on you and you felt your cheeks flush, completely embarrassed by her comment. You moved like you were about to get up, but Torvi held your forearm, stopping you.

“She’s not your slave, Margrethe.” She grunted, looking angrily at her.

“What is happening?” Was Aslaug’s chance to speak, she looked confused at her children.

“It seems like the servant doesn’t want to serve.”

“What servant?”

“Her.” She pointed at you.

“She’s no servant.” Lagertha intervened. “Go and fill your own cup.”

“You both keep treating her like she’s some sort of princess while giving me the cold shoulder.” She answered angrily, getting up and pushing away the chair she was seated on, throwing It on the floor. “I am Ubbe’s wife. Me. She’s no one.”

“Enough.” Ubbe spoke finally, getting up quickly and grabbing Margrethe’s arm.

Both of them left the great hall mumbling to each other, he even looked over his shoulders towards you, icy blue burning holes on your skin before looking away and vanishing into the dark of the night.

“Are you alright?” Torvi asked, holding your hand, you just nodded.

“Of course she’s not alright.” Ivar answered for you again. “This has to stop. If Ubbe won’t do anything about It, then I will.”

“Don’t talk like that about your brother’s wife.” Aslaug scolded him. “She was drunk, didn’t mean anything she said.”

“Oh mother, please.” Sigurd spoke. “It’s not like we didn’t witness Margrethe tormenting the poor girl before. You just don’t want to see.”

“Sigurd!” She hissed, then looked at you with an apologetic smile. “I’m sure she understands that we don’t see her as a slave or a servant. Right?” You nodded again, and smiled sadly.

A few minutes later, when all of them got back into the conversation, you discreetly left the great hall, telling Torvi you were just too tired to stay there and walked back to your house, the little cabin Lagertha had made for you all those years ago when you first arrived in Kattegat. You entered, lighting up the candles and carefully moving towards your bedroom.

As you got rid of your dress you felt heavy, hot tears gathering on your eyes, feeling as small as a grain of sand, stepped on by mean old Margrethe for no particular reason. Sitting on your bed, you looked out of your window and murmured shyly.

“Please, Freyja… Help me…”

You said your prayers, thought about going to Uppsala to make amends with the Gods, maybe Margrethe was a punishment from them, maybe you had to pay for being alive when everyone else from your family had died screaming. Taking you out of your thoughts, timid knocks on your door caught your attention. Your eyes went wide when you opened It, meeting the beautiful icy blue irises sparkling on Ubbe’s face.

“What are you doing here?” You asked surprised.

“I came to apologize on my wife's behalf.” He answered carefully; eyes trained on your face.

“It’s alright, prince Ubbe. I am already used to her.” You tried to sound confident, even though you were nothing but an insecure mess.

“There’s no need for lies here. She’s unfair to you, for no reason at all. I talked to her, I talk to her everyday about this, but It seems to me that It doesn’t matter how much of a talker I am, she just doesn’t listen.” He explained and seemed embarrassed.

“Like I said, I’m alright.” You insisted.

“Then why are you back in your home so early?”

You didn’t have any answer for that, you looked at him and blinked in confusion, that fight was tiring, you had no idea that to put up with Margrethe would bring you so much pain. You were used to the pain, that shouldn’t hit you so bad, but It happened anyway.

“I was tired, that’s all.” You said, moving away from his gaze.

“Still… I am sorry. I really am.”

The next morning, you woke up early, both you and Lagertha had an arrangement to train every morning by the river and you got ready to do It, leaving your home before sunrise. But when you got there, instead of finding your mentor, you found Ubbe sitting under the tree, when he saw you, he quickly got up.  

“Lagertha had an important meeting and asked me to come and help you.” He told you softly. “Is there any problem?”

“No. It’s just… It’s just that It’s normally Hvitserk and Ivar.” You swallowed hard.

“Not today.”

You turned your back at him to grab your wooden sword down on the ground, he didn’t wait to attack you though, catching you by surprise when he threw a shield at you.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!” You complained, getting wobbly as you tried to balance the sword and the shield without falling to the ground.

“You must always be ready.” He grunted, trying to attack you again. “And can never turn your back on your enemy.”

You dropped the shield and started to repel his blows with your own sword, grunting under your breath as you started to get panting and weary. Ubbe was fast, unrelenting, there was a tension between you, something heavy enveloping both of your bodies while you kept attacking and defending yourselves. Crouching before him, you could finally mess with his balance, hitting both of his legs. He quickly got up, only this time you were more aware and started to hit him nonstop until he lost his balance again and fell on his back.

“Not very much ready this time, prince Ubbe.” You commented breathlessly.

He smirked, getting up again very quickly, dodging your insistent blows, he dropped his sword on the ground and gripped your fist, tangling his legs with yours, he made you trip and fall, falling on top of you and trapping you under his huge frame. Your arms were raised over your head and held by one of his hands while the other held his weight so he wouldn’t crash his body over yours.

“I’m always ready.” He huffed; the blow of his breath so close to your face you felt its warmth on your cheeks. You tried to squirm away, but everything was fruitless, he didn’t move a single muscle.

“What are you doing?” You murmured.

“Winning the fight.”

You didn’t quite register his moves, but felt when his lips touched yours, so quick you asked yourself If you weren’t seeing things, feeling things. As fast as he brought you down, he picked you up and before you noticed you were back on your feet, looking up at him confused, his big hands were covering the side of your face like he didn’t want to let you go, eyes fixed on yours.

Again, he kissed you, lips molding on yours carefully, testing the waters. You closed your eyes, hugged his waist because you needed something to hold onto, your legs were wobbly, your brain was malfunctioning, you had nothing on your mind except the taste of his lips and the scent of his skin surrounding you. He squeezed your cheek before pulling away, still looking into your eyes. 

“I regret marrying her.” He said suddenly. “I was too young, she’s not who I thought she was.” 

“Are you saying this to make me feel less guilty about kissing a married man?” 

“You shouldn’t feel guilty at all.” He hissed when you squirmed away from his grip. “If I had known you were coming to Kattegat, I would have waited a little more.” 

That confession danced through your mind all day long, the stolen glances between you and Ubbe seemed to ignite an uncontrollable will to kiss him again, warming your body from inside out. But, everytime your eyes met his, Margrethe’s green pair suddenly showed up in your memory and you looked away, afraid of what she could do If she ever found out what happened between you and her husband.

As the weeks passed, Ubbe grew closer to you, he would help you with your training every time Lagertha wasn’t able to do It, sometimes both of them would show up to train you. Just like Ivar and Hvitserk, he would joke around you, keep you company and even help you with work, even under Margrethe’s angry looks. 

“You keep doing that, she will leave you.” You said once. 

“Or I’ll leave her.” He winked at you, smirked and gave you a quick peck on the lips. You widen your eyes.

“Ubbe!” You gulped loudly and tried to hide the silly smile on your face, or not to follow him with your eyes while he walked away with Hvitserk, both of them laughing and looking at you over their shoulders. 

You didn’t notice the footsteps behind you, but when you turned you saw Aslaug walking towards you, surrounded by her slaves as always and with a tiny smirk on her face. You moved away from her gaze feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, imagining she probably thought the worst of you If she saw her son giving you kisses on the lips. 

“He’s never this happy with her, you know.” She mumbled when she approached you. You didn’t answer. “I know you like him too.” 

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s still married.”

“I know she’s not the one for him.” 

“Did you see It?” You asked, looking at her with widened eyes and she nodded. “The seer told me years ago my fate was here in Kattegat.”

“Your fate is here, yes. Lagertha was right when she said you’re home, you really are.” She smiled then, touching your face softly before leaving. 

You kept doing your chores, avoiding Margrethe as much as you could through the day, trying not to think about Ubbe or the fact that you were falling for a man who was already taken. By nightfall, you were gathering a few plates to set the table for supper and all your effort to stay out of Margrethe’s way proved futile. 

“If I were you, I would leave before I had the chance to pierce my husband’s sword through your body.” She angrily grunted while placing her hand on your shoulder and turning you to look at her. 

“You don’t scare me.” You quickly squirmed away from her grip, taking the plates with you and walking away.

“But you should!” She insisted. “I know you think you have fooled everyone, but you could never fool me.” She kept going, growling angrily behind you. 

“Please, Margrethe, I’m tired of fighting with you.” You insisted, spreading the plates all over the table. “There’s no reason for you to treat me like that.”

“No reason?? Do you really think I didn’t see what was happening here? You bewitched my husband! You’ve been trying to steal him away since you arrived here, I’m not stupid!”

You looked at her in shock, confused at first but then you let the anger finally take away all your goodwill. 

“You’re a witch!” She screamed, raising her hand and preparing to slap your face, but you were fast enough to hold her wrist in the air stopping the blow before It hit your face. 

“I am not a witch!” You growled in anger. “I am not trying to steal anybody’s husband, let alone yours. I know my place, Margrethe, I don’t need you to keep reminding me It.” 

“Then why did he leave this morning saying he loved somebody else??”

“You have to ask him, not me.” 

With that being said, she jumped on you, throwing your body on the ground while she started to slap your face. You tried to squirm away, raised your arms to defend yourself, but she managed to hurt you a bit. That little fight would’ve taken long If Ubbe didn’t show up to take his wife off of you. 

“What is happening here?” He asked in shock, putting the pettit crazy blonde on the floor and stopping her from continuing to beat you. You quickly crawled away, face burning because of the scratches she left on your skin and the embarrassment she caused you.

“She’s trying to steal you from me! I won’t accept this.” She kept struggling in his arms as he tried to hold her in place. 

“Nobody is stealing me from you. I left you because I wanted to.” He answered, this time he was looking straight into her eyes.

“Because she’s a witch. I know you love me!” She insisted, tears started to gather in her eyes as she turned into a complete mess. 

You quickly got up, didn’t want to witness anything that was happening between them as she screamed on his face. You walked away tapping the dirt away from your gown, cleaning the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and trying to hold the stubborn tears that threatened to fall over your burning cheek. That’s when you heard footsteps behind you and let a frustrated grunt escape through your lips. 

“Leave me alone, Margrethe!” You grunted.

Before you could continue, a big hand wrapped around your forearm and stopped you on your tracks, turning your body abruptly. You bumped into Ubbe’s firm chest before you could avoid, looking into his eyes as soon as he grabbed you. 

“Aren’t you tired of putting me through this?” You asked defeated. 

“Even If you tell me you don’t like me back, I will leave her anyway.”

“Then what? We’ll pretend she doesn’t exist? We’ll pretend she won’t torment our lives If we stay together?” 

“I don’t care about Margrethe, not anymore. Say the word and we’ll leave Kattegat for good.” 

You looked at him, eyes widened taking in he just said. 

“I choose you. No matter how hard it seems, I still choose you.” 

“Do you mean It?” You asked nervously. 

“Every word.” 

You had no idea you could love somebody as much as you loved your fiancée, the one you lost so many years before, but as you watched Ubbe and running down to the great hall with Hvitserk and Sigurd right on his tracks, the memory was long lost in another life. Margrethe was gone, completely vanished, some say she went mad after Ubbe left her, being honest you couldn’t care less. 

Ivar had his proud gaze on you the whole night, throwing toasts on your name, smiling widely and making fun of his brother for taking his chance to marry you. With Ubbe gladly saying he was your fate, not Ivar. Hvitserk passed out from drinking way early, Lagertha and Aslaug were all over each other while thinking nobody was noticing, Sigurd was probably running after another young woman to bed that night, and Torvi and Bjorn were too busy taking care of their children, again you were happy, surrounded by your new family, feeling warmed and loved. 

By the end of the night, the flowers on your head were already withering when your husband threw your body over his shoulders and ran with you to your shared home. Big hands slapping your ass while you laughed out loud, making no effort to squirm away from his touch. He put you down as soon as you got there, quickly grabbing your face and giving you a kiss. Wet lips that tasted like ale molded over yours and then pulled away. 

“Welcome home, wife.” He grinned, lips still on yours while he untied the straps of your bodice. 

The last strap loosened so your bodice fell on the ground becoming a tiny pile of leather around your feet. His hands found your jaw and raised your head so he could kiss the skin of your neck, sucking a few red marks you would proudly display on the next morning. He walked you blindly through the cabin until you felt the edge of the bed on the back of your knee. You fell in front of him, shaky fingers finding the straps of his trousers and starting to untie, while he did the same with his tunic, throwing It across the room. 

Without a second thought he grabbed you by your waist and hopped you up on the bed. Your arms quickly holding onto his shoulders for balance and pulling him with you as soon as your head met the pillows. His lips back on yours in no time while he looked blindly for the hem of your gown. 

As soon as he found It, he pushed over your waist and dragged his lips down your body until he was kissing your tummy, spreading his plushy lips on your skin, leaving a trail of wetness behind. You squirmed under his touch, hands quickly finding his braids as he kept the descent until he lapped up between your already wet folds. 

“There she is.” He grunted against your mound and you suspected he wasn’t talking to you. “Missed you.” 

Ubbe was a sexual being by nature, taking you anywhere and anytime he wanted. Not that you were complaining about It. But every time he had you under him, he would always act like It had been a long time since he last found home between your legs. Always talking to your cunt like she was a creature on its own. Sometimes you felt the same way. 

You moaned loud when you felt him teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue, licking everything up till your clit so he could suck the tiny bud into his mouth. His hands rubbed up your body under your gown until he grabbed your breasts, yours quickly covering his over the fabric while your hips kept grinding down on his mouth on its own accord. 

“Ubbe…” You breathed softly. 

He moaned at the taste of you, nuzzling against your clit while licking up and down, side to side, like he was sipping the best drink he ever had. His bearded face scratched against your thighs, leaving even more marks on your soft skin, his fingers touched you roughly, tips rolling and tugging at your nipples the same way he would do with his mouth If he wasn’t already using It in another place.

Soon, he was fucking you with his tongue. You hooked your thighs on his shoulders, heels digging the middle of his back but he didn’t seem like he minded. Ubbe was claiming you in every possible way, his mouth made you feel like you had just reached Valhalla right before you died, you felt like you didn’t deserve that kind of pleasure coming from a man. 

You arched your back, gripped at his hair and squirmed under him. He had you like a feast, moaning around into your cunt like he always did, the vibrations of his grunts sent jolts of pleasure up your spine. His hands came down your body grabbing you by your hips and pulling you down on his mouth, you moaned loudly feeling the familiar coil on your lower belly start to form. 

Ubbe would easily take to your high with his mouth, lapping up your juices like a starved man, making wet noises with his tongue, he would always turn you into a whining mess very fast. He switched to suck on your clit and the coil snapped without a warning, your orgasm washing over you like a storm having you moaning his name like a prayer to the gods.

It didn’t take long until he was hovering you again, his trousers down his hips leaving his cock free to tease your thighs. He pushed your gown over your head just enough to keep your arms up on the bed, one of his hands holding them in place while the other grabbed the base of his cock, teasing your clit with his cock head. 

You opened your legs a little more, inviting him in. He coated himself in your juices and easily pushed into you. The stretch brought a familiar burn to your walls and both of you moaned in unisson when he bottomed out inside you. 

“There you go, sweetness…” He grunted, eyes closed while he felt your walls fluttering around him without making a single move. 

“Welcome home, husband.” You grinned. 

He opened his eyes, lust blown baby blues looking down at you while he started to move. Slowly pulling out until he bottomed out again, his cockhead was touching your cervix, you could feel It. He growled before kissing you again, tongue into your mouth so you could taste yourself, heavy breathing from his nose warming up your face while he picked up his pace. His cock was throbbing inside you, then he changed the angle hitting right into that sweet spot, his spot, the one that had you mewling against his lips, dragging your nails down his back and gripping his asscheeks in a silent beg for him to do It again. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours became louder, you wanted to touch him, show him with your hands how much you loved what he was doing, but with his hand stopping yours from coming down, you could only moan, whimper and whine against his mouth. Eyes wide open in hopes he would understand your silent beg. He hit your his spot again and you felt like you were about to burst. 

“Ubbe…” You gasp into his mouth.

“I know sweetness, I know.” He comforts you with his words like he isn’t fucking the life out of your body with his thrusts.  

When he hit you again, you combust, bursting into tiny little pieces all around him with a long, langid moan. Your walls squeezed him in and he growled, starting to thrust faster, harder and deeper. You squirmed away in oversensitivity and he growled again, oh you had to be kidding, taking his pussy away from him right before he filled you up to the brim, that wasn’t fair. 

“Gods, Ubbe, I’m going to cum again If you keep doing this.” You begged breathlessly, you didn’t think that you had any more orgasms into you, but he always proved you wrong. 

“I know. I want you to cum again. Give me one more so I can fill you up with my seed.” He grunted and you whined at his words. “Pussy squeezing me again, you want me to fill you up sweetness, want my seed dripping out of you.?”

“P-Please!” You stuttered. 

You were clenching down hard on him all over again, like you hadn’t cum just a few minutes prior, he thrusted deeper, making sure to hit his favorite spot every time. Your fingers curled around the gown on your hands, his hand that was holding the fabric quickly met one of yours, tangling his fingers with yours while he touched your forehead with his. Hips moving faster than before had your body, fucking you into the mattress with abadon. 

“So wet… All mine.” He growled, thrusting even deeper, dragging another filthy moan from your lips. “I’m going to cum sweetness, feel this pussy up until you’re dripping right back out.” His hips stuttered and he let out a choked moan, his cum filling your pussy to the brim. 

You whined as he pulled out, rolling off of you and laying by your side, panting heavily, just like you. 

“I can’t wait to see you all big and round with our child.” He muttered suddenly. 

“Someone’s anxious to become a father.” You whispered, turning on your side so you could hug him, giving him a quick peck on the lips before laying down on his chest. 

“Can’t sail away If you’re pregnant. And I don’t want to leave you here.” 

“Were you serious when you said you would leave Kattegat?”  

“Yes. I can’t stay, I’ve been tied to this land for too long. I’m viking.” He kissed your forehead before sighing. “And I’m not leaving you behind.” 

Ubbe was a man of his words, you learned that with time, a few months into your marriage and you still weren’t pregnant, that’s when he decided to sail, imagining It wasn’t the will of the gods that you brought a child into this world at least not at that moment. You begged the gods to give you a child, a son, you feared he would leave you If you couldn’t get pregnant, but it never happened. When the time came, he filled the ship with provisions and water, found himself a few good men to accompany him and had a place made for you right by his side. 

“Where shall we explore?” You asked once on the boat, his hands wrapped around your waist while the men started to paddle. 

“Wherever the sea takes us.”

That wasn’t a very good plan, you started to notice when the food and the water decreased a lot, very romantic but not very practical. You faced days and days of storms until the course of the vessel was changed drastically and you found yourselves in this new world. Close to a beach, you all looked at each other skeptic of what you were seeing with your own eyes. 

Either way you went there, the ship reached land for the first time in months and you jumped, quickly taking off your shoes to feel the sand on your feet, dropping to your knees and looking at the thicket right before your eyes. That’s when you felt his arms wrapping around your waist as he kneeled behind you, lips touching the crown of your head as he breathed your scent in. 

The gods send their blessings when you least expect, that’s what your mother always told you and after your first year on the new land, learning with the people who already lived there, experiencing the most exciting emotions you never thought you could feel, you felt the first sign of discomfort, an aching feeling in your tummy that affected your appetite, until you started to feel sick til the verge of throwing up. 

“You’re expecting a child.” The healer of that land told you in secrecy after you went to see her one night. 

That very night, coming back to the cabin Ubbe had built for the both of you, the big, bulky viking was still sleeping like a rock, didn’t even notice you had left. You smiled to yourself as you laid back in, right under his arm where you slept every night since you first spent It together, head on his chest listening to his heartbeat like a calming, soft lullabye, you closed your eyes, anxiously waiting to tell the news on the next morning. 

***

[mecharlie-fox]

Memoirs of a Summoner: Part 1

Rules are simple my fellow Summoners, the prompt works for anyone and everyone. Feel free to use them but with credits. This works for canon (Kiran, nonbinary/male/female), original characters, and self-inserts/readers. 

Ship intention: Alfonse X Reader / Summoner X Reader? Note: Okay uhh here’s a quick thing, the Summoner can be Kiran, your OC, whatever you’d like because there will be two important ppl in this short fic - YOU, the reader and the Summoner. So yeah, take your pick. And happy reading!

This is a really old fic that I made last year (May) 2021, I never went through with it but it was an interesting thought if we’re gonna you know... take in account of the official art for the Summoner. You see I like me my mystery men but the summoner can be any gender depending on your preference

-----

PART 1

You’re not the Summoner. You’re only but a faceless member of the Order of Heroes. You grew up reading and listening to stories about the Legendary Great Hero who would one day wield Breidablik to bring peace to the continent, and end this senseless war. You wanted to do your part, much like anyone else.

Commander Anna knows you - of course she does, as commander, she should know the names and faces of every single member who volunteered for this cause. And that alone she’s grateful to you.

But the Askran siblings - you know they were nice, and you know that they have the same goal as you. But you weren’t important and you weren’t a Hero - when you die, no one will remember your name. You’re just one of those nameless soldiers who died for the sake of their kingdom. A sacrifice. Cannon fodder.

You knew this and yet you fought anyway. It was all for your family. It was all for the friends you left in the village. Because someone needs to help.

Training was all left to you and ranking members who weren’t anything special in the order. Your captains did their best to make sure that your training was on par with the Heroes, making sure that none of you were in the way, making sure you all knew what to do. You were a few, couldn’t even call yourselves a platoon. A lot of people tend to forget that the Order had human beings like you, and when they say “Order of Heroes” it was.... well... always the Heroes and their reckless royal siblings.

The heir to the throne and his spare were both putting themselves at risks. Some of the few members understood it to be setting as an example, in hopes that more members would join and that they wouldn’t rely too much on Heroes. But in truth, it had an opposite effect. It was reckless, it was stupid, if both of them died, who would lead Askr to a future? If the King dies and both of them are gone, where is the future?

It wasn’t... royal like. You weren’t even part of the nobility, never even stepped foot into the royal castle. You were a mere commoner trying to make a living while protecting the kingdom in your own way. Even when there’s no recognition to it. The thought of fighting so your family wouldn’t was enough for you.

The Order didn’t make any money. It was mostly being funded by the government, and if the monthly budget didn’t make it - they had to think of ways. You reported the discovery of Aether Keep to the commander, and she commended you and your unit for a job well done. Your fellow members commended you guys for it, because it meant that no more part time jobs to feed those Heroes with your own labor. They weren’t all bad, the Heroes. Even though you were invisible to them, they showed kindness when they saw you.

But one thing did bother you. The royal siblings - Aether Keep was something of the past, to battle in the skies. It provided so much for the Order such as inns, crops, a music hall, everything they needed to relax for once instead of training on an endless basis. Yes, the commander, your comrades and some of the Heroes commended you for a job well done - but not them.

They were above you. You know that. They wouldn’t be talking to a lowly commoner like you, but it just bothered you. Because you and your unit found the Keep and yet... it was the Summoner who was congratulated. The Summoner who was praised.

You didn’t have any ill-will towards the Summoner. They were kind, concerned, innocent, good - they knew nothing about warfare and yet they did their part to help end this war. Just like you did when you first came. You were there to protect not for recognition.

Heroes who died could be revived, thanks to the Summoner’s powers. But your comrades... your comrades who fell did not share the same mercy from the gods. When they die, they die. Cannot be revived. It wasn’t the Summoner’s fault. You keep on telling yourself.

You saw it with your eyes. The Muspell flames.

Your task was simple, you and your unit were to go to a certain place in Askr to see what was going about. A woman who seemed to be like a Hero to you, was fighting by herself while the village was being destroyed, burn down into ashes until there was nothing left. You knew this village, you knew these fields - you used to come with your siblings to play around while your parents were having their own leisure of an alone time. 

Now it’s gone. Nothing but the red sky and ash smoke. You fought. You all fought. But it was no use. None of you had magic, that wasn’t the law of your world. Mages were rare and not all mages wanted to sacrifice their lives for nothing. You watched your captain burning, reaching his hand to you as you felt the painful fuel of the flames of Muspell.

Run. He said with his dying breath. Run. Warn them.

 Miraculously, as if it were the Dragon of Askr’s will - you made it back to the Order of Heroes. Your skin covered in burns and all you could mutter to your Commander was one phrase: The flames... the flames....

 None of them thanked you. Few of the Heroes (mostly the Heroes who healed you) thanked you for your service, and gave their condolences for the loss of your friends. You were in your room, ordered to stay in and rest, Sakura and Wrys would come to you four times a day to tend to your burns - and try to cheer you up. They would bring friends, although you were thankful for their kindness - your heart still felt the loss of your unit... your squad, your family.

The commander came and offered her condolences and had assured you that their families have been well compensated, all Anna hoped for was for you to forgive yourself. 

Even when you’re stuck in your room trying to regain your health, you weren’t important. You knew you weren’t important. Everyone was more focused on this new Hero named Fjorm from the Kingdom of Nifl. And as always, the Summoner was praised for finding her.

The Summoner this.

The Summoner that.

The Summoner wasn’t the one fighting the battles, it was all you and your comrades. The faceless, nameless comrades who died... who were just forgotten because they weren’t Heroes.

You couldn’t help but hate the Summoner. Hate the Prince. Hate the whole Order.

None of you were important. The volunteers from Askr were not important. Even when everyone dines together in the mess hall, you all knew your place. You had your own place at the edge of the hall as the Heroes dine and laugh with the higher members such as the commander, the Summoner, and the royal siblings. There was such a wall between the normal folk and the Heroes - there finally came a time where some volunteers... left during the war with Muspell and Embla.

Because you all didn’t feel welcome in the ranks at all.

"You’re leaving too?!” You could hear Commander Anna’s reaction from across the corridors of the ancient castle. 

“I am so sorry Commander.” Your fellow comrade bowed in apology, behind the pillar you couldn’t help but listen and started thinking for yourself as well. “But even when all our goals are the same, to stop this war and protect the ones we love... I don’t feel welcome at all Ma’am. It’s not your fault or the Heroes. It’s just... I can’t keep it up anymore. I’m tired of trying to keep up with big names and we’re just... us volunteers are just nothing.”

“Are... are you all feeling this way?” The Commander’s tone was sincere. Broken. As if she was starting to question her own leadership.

“We all have... especially since (y/n) came back to us.” Your comrade admitted in complete shame. “She and her unit... her captain brought out the best in us, trained us, took care of us. But seeing their sacrifices meant nothing to the Order - what’s the point of service if we’re just going to be forgotten in the end?”

“I didn’t...” The commander was in utter shock. She couldn’t comprehend on how this was going around the volunteer members. “I wasn’t...”

“We don’t blame you ma’am. And we are grateful for the opportunity to serve Askr. We have... outlived our purpose now, ma’am. With all of these Heroes, you don’t need us anymore.” He bowed, you couldn’t help but feel his full sense of hesitation and even regret. “I’m really sorry ma’am. I wish you the best on the war effort.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if it was right. Did you truly outlive your purpose?

The following morning wasn’t better when you saw your roommate packing up their things. And you said. “You’re leaving too, huh?”

“Yeah,” your roommate casually answered as they continued to pack their belongings. “I gave my resignation to the Commander earlier. I don’t want to leave but… we’re not needed here anymore and the Order made that clear.”

“You’re a captain, what will happen to your unit?”

“My unit is leaving with me.” You looked at your roommate as they just finished packing. Giving you a smile of reassurance was all they could do for you. “It sounds like we’re ganging up on the Commander, doesn’t it?”

You were still in a state of shock. And yet, you didn’t question their decision, it was understandable. “I won’t lie… but it does… but… but why—I don’t understand.”

“Surtr is trying to attack every village he could find that doesn’t have a strong protection from the Order and the Knights. Commander Anna is doing everything in her power, we know that. King Gustav too and I know we have much more Heroes than before, and they’re a more capable bunch that us… they’ll do well.”

“What will you all do?”

Your roommate sighed. “We’re all going home to our respective villages. Muspell is playing with the Knights but they’re only defending the capital, the Order is more focused on gathering intel for the king but… even we were replaced by Heroes in that field. Protecting villages with no fighting force seems to be the most logical option. That’s what the others are doing. How ‘bout you?” Your roommate gave a wary smile. “Are you still going to stay?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged, avoiding eye contact. You didn’t know what to do. A part of you still wanted to be involved with the Order because of your beliefs but, the other part didn’t want you to say because none of you were being valued. “I’ll try to stay for a while, I won’t lie… leaving has also crossed my mind from time to time.”

Closing their suitcase, your roommate nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you in the village if you made up your mind then.”

After giving you a pat on the shoulder, you just watched your roommate leave. Things weren’t progressing as smoothly as everyone hopped for. Some of the Heroes did notice the decline of volunteer folks and you couldn’t help but wonder if this became a problem for the commander. You wondered if the Summoner or the Prince and Princess noticed it themselves. The more people left; the more Heroes were being summoned into the Order.

The mess hall was livelier than before now. With more Heroes meant more friends but, you looked around to only find almost no familiar faces that were in your circle. You realized; you were the only non-hero in the mess hall now. Everyone else left. The music, the laughter, the jokes, they were all noises for you now.

You were just one nameless soldier in a room filled with important figures.

“You haven’t touched your food (y/n), something on your mind?” You looked up to find one of the castle’s servants looking at you with concern. You didn’t realize that everyone in the mess hall was already gone, including the Commander and the Summoner.

“There is, actually.” You couldn’t help but sigh. “I’m also thinking of leaving.”

“You too?”

You smiled at that ironic question. “Yeah… me too. I guess leaving on my own free will is better than being sacked eventually. No one even noticed the decrease of numbers; the Summoner just keeps on replacing us anyway. The more Heroes they summon, who knows when the Commander will tell me to just sleep in a tent outside so they could have a room and a bed.” You joked.

The servant Dahlia sat across you, giving out a small pout. “Now, now… you know Anna wouldn’t do something like that.”

“It… just crossed my mind.” You answered honestly. “With the volunteers leaving, there would be more room in the barracks for the Heroes right? It hasn’t been even the following day and I already have a new neighbor. Maybe my comrades are right… we already outlived our purpose. Everything was simpler when Zacharias was still here.”

Dahlia just nodded. “Things were simpler when the captain was here but, he’s not anymore. Do you think Captain Zacharias would be happy seeing you all like this?”

No one knew what happened to Zacharias. Though he was close to Prince Alfonse and Princess Sharena since they were young, he used to be your unit captain. He took care all of you, trained you, scolded you, gave you wisdom – the Summoner was no replacement for him. Everyone knew that. Zacharias would want you to follow your heart. Not think of yourself a burden.

You shook your head. “Good.” Dahlia smiled. “No one can force you to stay or go, (y/n), that’s your decision to make. And if you’re leaving too well… all I can do is wish you luck on future endeavors.”

Perhaps with a bit of luck you would know what to do. But fortune frowns before you, you didn’t know what to do. For years, all you could think about was joining the Order of Heroes to do your part. To help fight and protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. The years were kind and fruitful, filled with laughter and friendship – but now they’re nothing but a shard of a memory as you walked down the cold, empty corridors of the castle.

In your room, you proceeded to write a letter. Describing your thoughts and explaining why your decision to leave the order was made. Neatly folding it, you left for the Commander’s chamber. Knowing Anna, she would still be awake by this time – after all, she was once a volunteer like you before the old man retired and chose her to be his successor.

In your mind, you rehearsed and rehearsed what you were going to say to her. How you made up your mind and will follow the decision of your former comrades. Many good soldiers came and went, and they were gone not because they were killed in the battlefield, but rather they left on their own free will.

You were about to knock, but for a single moment, you hesitated the moment you heard crying from inside.

Anna’s crying. You noted to yourself. Found yourself froze in front of the door, with your hand about to knock the door. You couldn’t do it. You wanted to. You wanted to leave. You were unhappy with what the Order has become and how you were all treated. You wondered if you were an ungrateful soul, wanting recognition for things you have done – things that any Hero would do, but because you had no name, you were nothing, you weren’t recognized.

You knew Anna was grateful, wasn’t that enough for you? Was it too much to ask for the whole Order to know the deeds you have done? The sacrifices that you had to endure? Hearing the commander cry made your heart feel even more pain than the burns on your skin.

“May I help you?” You jumped in fright, turning around to see the Summoner. “You heard the crying too, huh?”

“Yes… Summoner.” You looked down. Not wanting to look into their eyes. Even if you did, you couldn’t see them. The Summoner always wore their hood and no one has ever seen their face. Some did speculate that only members of the royal family and the commander are able to do so, but there was never any proof.

But Kiran already had an idea why you were in front of Anna’s room. “What’s that on your hand?” They asked quietly. It wasn’t stern or serious, but rather calm and worried.

“My… resignation, Summoner.”

Kiran nodded. “You’re leaving too. I see… may I ask why?”

Why?! You wanted to snap. How… how could they? After everything you and your comrades did for this Order, wasn’t it obvious why you chose to follow? But it was late and you didn’t want to cause anymore trouble for Anna. You’d be gone in the morning anyway. So, you answered. “I don’t belong here anymore, Summoner.”

The Summoner was quiet, but continued to listen to what you had to say. “I’m aware of the damages that this war has caused the kingdom. I’m also aware of the selfishness that has come to mind, thinking about myself rather than the benefit of those who need our protection. I won’t speak for my comrades who left before me – but I’m not being valued here. When a soldier leaves, a Hero takes our place right? We’re not important to this Order. Not anymore.”

“I see.” The summoner was calmer than you expected them to be. You were waiting to be scolded with the importance of duty. The Summoner was a tactician, one of the keys to the Order’s victory in so many battles. They were the Legendary Great Hero, who would ever doubt them? Who would put them in the wrong? “Here,” the summoner spoke as they offer their hand. “I’ll give it to her for you. I wish you the best.”

It was all you could hear from anyone at this point. Not all of your burns have been healed up and yet, it feels like your heart too, was also burning from the pain. You bowed in the Summoner’s presence as if they were of high importance. In this castle, you couldn’t help but wonder what the Summoner was really like behind that hood of theirs.

The Summoner never really spends time with normal troops, they were always with the Heroes. People expected Prince Alfonse to take on that role more, since he’s the crown prince but to no avail as well. He too, was also hands on with the Heroes.

You couldn’t even sleep that evening. All you could wonder was the whole impossible idea: would people still be leaving if Captain Zacharias was still in your ranks?

You found yourself packing the following morning, ignoring the rushing footsteps from outside of your room. You jumped in shock the moment the door burst opened to find Anna holding your resignation in her hand, and the Summoner calmly standing behind her. The commander was taking deep breathes, you wondered how long she actually ran. From her face alone, you knew she had a sleepless night too – the bags in her eyes were deep, stains of tears could be seen on her cheek.

But none of that mattered to her anymore, all that mattered was her proposition to you. “(y/n)!” She shouted with determination as your eyes both met. Her gaze was even burning hotter than Muspell flames. “I have a proposition for you!”

In a sense, knowing the commander for so long, a part of you already knew that she didn’t accept your resignation and is about to offer you something you can’t refuse. “Be my steward!” Anna stopped, knowing that she said the wrong words to you.

You blinked. “Forgive me commander,” you answered as you closed your luggage. “But I do not see how that will make me stay.” You were confused. What soldier would want a stewardship? You thought that they were taking you as a servant. The order doesn’t pay well, you were stuck doing side jobs just to send back money to your family back in the village.

“Ack!” Anna couldn’t help but scratch her whole head with both of her hands, letter still in hand. “I’m! I’m sorry! Those words were completely wrong! COMPLETELY WRONG! What I’m trying to say is – PLEASE STAY!” The commander clapper her hands together, bowing in front of you. This sight alone was enough to make you feel worse as it is.

You knew Anna before she became commander. All of the people who left knew her personally before she took on the burden of the Order. Even with the fancy titles and all – she was still Anna, but compared to you, Anna was more important. She had more significance. “I – I know I’m not doing my best to make you all feel welcome. Especially when Kiran had been summoning Heroes left and right increasing our numbers! But I want to make things better for everyone! So please (y/n)! Give me another chance!”

If it was their previous commander, this attitude wouldn’t stand. They respected Anna but respect wasn’t the problem, it was pure negligence.

[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 3: S*x Work🧡

Harry has my brain right now I’m sorry lol I’m trying to think about Tony instead. I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: Tony/Peter main focus, established Harry/Peter relationship, starker nff, s*x worker!Peter, Peter is over 18

***

Tony knew what was going on as soon as he saw the young man.

It wasn’t unusual for a host of an event to show up with someone hired. It looked good to have something pretty on your arm, and a hire was an easy fix when there wasn’t a partner in their life.

Although it did shock him to see a man on the arm of one Harry Osborn.

It was practically Harry’s coronation, a prince taking the throne of CEO. And Tony expected that he’d continue to be sucking up to his father. Doing everything just as he expected.

The looks of disdain that Norman kept throwing the two young men told Tony that he had been mistaken.

Who knew.

No matter what, the man was gorgeous. And was really good at his job.

He laughed at just the right moments, he mingled with every stuck up guest surrounding them, he gave the younger Osborn looks that could have fooled anyone into believing that they were actually in love.

Anyone but Tony, of course. He knew how it all worked.

After a while he lost track of the couple. He did some mingling of his own with business partners and former clients until the few drinks he had told him that it was time to find a restroom.

The venue was unfamiliar, so he found himself wandering down the hall and looking for signs that would lead him in the right direction.

Eventually he found a door that seemed right and he opened it before slamming it shut again. “Sorry!”

The image of that gorgeous arm candy on his knees was burned into his memory, though.

“Fuck.” He heard Harry mumble through the door. “Get up, someone’s already looking for us, Pete.”

A heavy sigh. “We’ve barely done anything. We can keep going for a minute-“

Tony was frozen, listening to them.

The door opened a moment later and he came face to face with a very flushed Osborn.

“Oh, fuck. Of course it was you.”

“I was just looking for a bathroom,” Tony blurted out. “Not looking for you.”

Harry didn’t look convinced. “Please just- don’t tell anyone. Although I know you have no reason to do me any favors.”

“Tell anyone what? Kid, I’m pretty sure that’s his job. No one cares.”

The other man stepped out, still straightening himself out. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not here as an escort.”

“So you’re not-“ Tony didn’t buy it. Although maybe he was just hoping for his own sake.

Knowing that the angel in front of him was out of reach just might have broken his heart. He was that attracted to him. But he just couldn’t help it.

“I am. I mean, not an escort per se...” The young man crossed his arms. “But this isn’t a job.”

Harry groaned, covering his face. “I’m pretty sure this is making it worse, Pete.”

The other man - Pete? - just looked up at Tony, cocking his head to the side. “But it doesn’t matter. Harry, we’re out tonight, we’re out. Who cares what he says to anyone?”

Tony was stuck on the previous thing. “So you are a- well, whatever you want to call it?”

“Yes. I can give you my information if you want. And I don’t need a title, just call me Peter.”

He did want. He definitely did want that. But he was still confused. “If this isn’t a job then, what-“

“We’re together.”

That definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. He might have even staggered back a bit with how surprised he was. But maybe that was just his flair for the dramatic. It really was pretty shocking, though.

“O….Kay.” He’d ask later. For now, he was sticking with the information he had. And he had to find out how to get time with gorgeous Peter.

“How much for an hour?” Tony asked.

Peter didn’t miss a beat. “A grand.” At an annoyed sound from Harry he laughed. “But I’m not available for the next few hours.”

“I’ll pay ten if you’ll be with me right now.”

The couple exchanged a look. “Half an hour,” Harry countered.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Tony grinned. “Get back out to your party. Promise I’ll return him to you in one piece.”

Peter snorted, setting a timer on his phone. “Your thirty minutes starts now. What do you have in mind?”

Harry watched them warily. He kissed Peter’s cheek, sighing. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. It’ll be fast, don’t worry.”

Tony scoffed. “Was that an attack on my stamina? Because-“

“Thirty minutes isn’t long, Stark. That’s it.” Peter grinned. “So defensive.”

“You’re wasting my time, Osborn. Skedaddle.” Tony waved his hands.

Peter snorted, pulling him into the same room that they’d come out of.

Tony grinned at him. “Feisty. I like it.”

“Okay. Seriously, what do you want? Because we really don’t have that much time.” Peter was already reaching for Tony’s belt.

“First? I’m actually going to go find a bathroom. What I was trying to do before all this.” He felt a little bad about interrupting them, but figured that they could pick up where they left off later. And the thought that he once again pissed off an Osborn made him smile.

“K. Should I just wait here?” Peter moved his hands and leaned against the wall.

“Why would you follow me? Yes, stay here. Just a minute.” Tony opened the door again before pausing. “I still...don’t know where it is.”

“Maybe I should follow you.” Peter laughed under his breath. “You were, like, two doors off. To the left.”

“Thanks. Don’t go anywhere.”

Tony left and was back within a couple minutes, but he knew that he had very little time to waste. Half an hour wasn’t much at all.

Although he would definitely be getting Peter’s contact information for another time.

He was back in the small room where he left Peter, raising an eyebrow when he saw the younger man with his tie loose and shirt unbuttoned. “Eager?”

“Figured I wouldn’t just stand here while I waited. What, is this not what you wanted?” Peter teasingly moved his hands over his chest.

And how did he keep getting more and more perfect? The unbuttoned shirt revealed hard abs and a v that nearly made Tony drool. There needed to be statues of that body. He was halfway to thinking through the costs of such a thing when Peter’s laugh snapped him out of it.

“Down, boy.”

Tony snorted, a little surprised. “I’m not paying you to tell me to stop ogling. Remember, I’m way overpaying you for this.”

“It’s my personal time. I get to decide what’s overpaying.” Peter stepped forward, his fingers starting to unbutton Tony’s shirt. “Now. You have like…twenty three minutes left.”

“Half of what’s gone was because your boyfriend wouldn’t leave.”

“Mmm. You could have taken advantage of your time anyways. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen me with a client.”

Why was that so appealing to think about?

“Right. Well, first I actually want to talk. Is that okay?” Tony didn’t stop him from slowly unbuttoning his shirt anyway.

Peter nodded, confused. Everyone wanted to jump right into the good stuff, especially with such a short time. Although he never usually did less than two hours.

Maybe he was just curious as to what Tony had in mind.

“Alright. So you said you and Osborn are a thing, how long has that been going on?” He really had so many questions about that alone.

“Officially? Today’s our first time being out together. But we’re been a couple for a little over a year now. But we’ve known each other our whole lives. Grew up together and all that.” Peter made his way down Tony’s shirt as he talked, until it was hanging open.

“Huh. That’s interesting, I always assumed he was straight. Scandals with girls, yknow.” Tony slid his jacket and now-open shirt off.

The younger man nodded, hands on Tony’s hips. “Yeah, everyone assumed. But he hid it for a reason. His dad is pissed. And we knew he would be. So he just…tried to look one way. Threw everyone off.”

“Did a good job. I’ve never seen you before,” Tony commented. “I would have remembered.”

“That’s because I’m not associated with the company in any way. And the media isn’t interested in a random kid from Queens.” Peter shrugged, undoing Tony’s belt.

“Interesting.” The older man helped. “Well, I think that’s most of my questions. Can I touch you?”

Peter nodded, laughing a little. “You can. And happy to answer.” It was more than he would have answered with anyone else. He wasn’t really sure why he was so open with Stark. “What are you thinking you want me to do?”

“I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to get on your knees for me, honey.” Another thing popped into his head as he watched him get down. “So he’s okay with this? Being in a relationship while being in sex work?”

The younger man nodded, pulling Tony’s pants down his hips and thighs. “Yeah. I think sometimes he gets a little jealous but we work it out. We talk. I assure him that he’s the only one I actually love.”

Tony licked his bottom lip, nodding. “That makes sense. Alright, now I’m done. I don’t want to talk about him any more, I just want to think about you, gorgeous. Is that okay?”

“Perfectly okay.” Peter got his boxers down and let the man’s cock rest against his cheek. “Let’s really get started….”

***

They went over the half hour.

Not by much, only a couple minutes, but still. Tony noticed. And he mentioned it. But Peter only waved him off and finished getting him off.

They straightened themselves out when they were done and Tony pulled his phone out.

“I should have done this first, but do you have some kind of account I need to send the money to? Or-“

Peter shook his head quickly, taking his phone and adding himself as a contact. “Just think of this as a…test run. I’d feel bad charging you all that for one bj.”

Tony blinked, taking his phone back when it was pressed into his hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now go away, I’ll come in in a minute. We don’t need to look like we’re coming in together.” Peter pulled his own phone out and winced when he saw how swollen his lips were.

“Okay. Thank you.”

The young man shot him a small smile. “No problem.”

Tony made his way back to the ballroom, still trying to make sense of everything that happened.

He made eye contact with Harry as he came in and gave him a small nod. He didn’t know what else to do, his mind still fogged by everything.

He’d definitely be calling Peter soon.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (13)

(Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!! I’d say that this is a gift for the day, but this is my usual update time lol please enjoy the new chapter anyway! There’s also a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.12 / Ch.14  (ao3)

Chapter 13: I’ll Make You a Deal

Lila stalked the halls of Dupont, doing her best to hide her scowl as she massaged her temples. When she offered to take Marinette’s job as Class President, she hadn’t realized how much extra work she was dumping onto herself. She thought that the title was just that: a title. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sure, she would have to verify a few things, acknowledge her classmates’ opinions towards the school system, and speak out about it as a representative towards them, but that was all. She didn’t expect it to rearrange her entire schedule towards life! Her head was pounding from the late nights of filing student complaints, her back ached from carrying this stupid binder around, and her wrist still twinged with pain from signing too many papers at once. It was ridiculous!

Lying to Bustier about those forms didn’t make it any easier either. Instead of getting to make minor additions to the papers Marinette had already written, she now had to rewrite all of the forms herself. The entire process was a nightmare, and Lila couldn’t escape. If she lied again and said that Marinette gave the forms back, that would be glorifying the girl, and she refused to do that. However, if she lied and said that she simply found the forms again, it would not only make her look suspicious, but also incompetent. She couldn’t have either of those descriptions attached to her person. 

So, that left her with the agonizing option of filling them out again herself. She tried to push it onto Alya, and for the most part, she succeeded. The red-head filled out a good half before handing them back, but that still left Lila with the other half. Thus, she’s spent the last three nights in a row doing nothing but signing form after form after form. The fact that she had to use Marinette’s forms as reference only made it worse. She could practically hear the ravenette laughing at her every time she glanced over the original paperwork. It was utterly humiliating.

And don’t get her started on the amount of requests or complaints that she had to file. Everyday her classmates came to her asking for this or that or “could you change this about our classroom?”. Sometimes they would talk about the seats being too hard or the fact that they didn’t have enough recess or how the stairs were too far apart and someone could trip. Then- oh, then -there were the class trips. One request was a literal trip to Greece. Greece! Did they think she or the school was just made of money? How can they possibly be this greedy or entitled? How was Marinette able to handle it all so easily? She made it look like it was nothing!

Lila clenched her fists at her side, her nails digging into her skin. Even after running from the school with her tail between her legs, Marinette was still acting as a sharp, irritating thorn in Lila’s side. 

Sparkling laughter interrupted her thoughts, and Lila turned to the two boys standing outside of the library entrance. Adrien Agreste, the golden child of the school, and Nino, his little sidekick- as far as Lila was concerned -appeared to be chatting mindlessly on their way back to class, which was typical. Adrien was always talking with somebody now-a-days. That was another problem of hers. 

When Marinette first left, Adrien became distraught and distant. He began muttering to himself and not listening in class, dismissing everyone with a hum and a nod. The other students berated him for the behavior, wonderfully captured in Lila’s beautifully crafted web of words, but he hardly heard them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. He continued to write things in his notebook that certainly weren’t lesson notes and run his hand through his hair with frustration when he hit some sort of wall. 

It was irritating, of course, but nothing Lila hadn’t expected. Marinette was supposed to be his “very good friend”, after all. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t mourned the loss. What she didn’t anticipate, though, was the way he bounced back. 

It had to have happened a little over two weeks after Marinette left, because Lila remembered finally starting to feel comfortable in her new role of being able to lie unchallenged. She was spewing some crap about Marinette sending her mean messages, making sure her tears looked real enough and her sobs were believable, when Adrien decided to jump into the conversation. He flashed her a bright smile and, in the kindest voice she’d ever heard, asked her for the texts that Marinette had sent. 

The question alone had surprised her, considering the fact that he hadn’t really spoken to anyone in a while, but that smile he held was really the thing to set her on edge. It was simply too sweet-looking for someone who had just indirectly asked for proof of her story, especially when they both knew that she was lying. 

She couldn’t understand the change. He’d been cowering in the corner for the last two weeks, and yet that day, he was out for blood on her account. Why? What was the difference between the last two weeks and that day? She still doesn’t know. 

Adrien’s determination towards outing her cranked up to eleven after that . He went from barely talking to one person throughout the day to talking with everyone on a constant basis, and anytime Lila so much as uttered a sentence, he was there asking questions. When did she do this, who helped her with that, how did she manage to get from one place to the other so quickly- from a naïve onlooker’s point of view, Adrien would simply appear to be interested in Lila’s stories, but she knew better. He was finding holes in her stories and using them to rip apart her words piece by piece, all while using an innocent yet confused expression to make it seem like he was trying to help her. The strategy was completely different from Marinette’s, and it ticked Lila off to no end. How was she supposed to turn crowds against him and regain her throne if he kept acting like some pure-hearted angel?

She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t, and he knew that she couldn’t, because that’s the exact same tactic that eventually got Marinette to leave the school.

A part of her had hoped that this newfound passive-aggression would fade after a few days, but now that three weeks of constant badgering on Adrien’s account has passed, that hope has been thoroughly and relentlessly crushed. He hasn’t done much over those weeks, thankfully, but she’s had to reinforce her lies ten times the normal amount to keep it that way. That’s a tad hard to do when all of your stories are on the grand scale of things. 

Even with her meticulous planning and words choices, though, one can’t escape subtle confrontation forever. She could tell that people were slowly starting to become suspicious of her stories. They were either wanting Adrien to be around during their discussions with her or were looking for holes themselves. 

Watching them exchange glances during her stories made her blood boil. Why did they have to be so nosy? So picky? Can’t she have a reprieve for once in her entire life? Can’t she just lie and manipulate others without the fear of getting caught? Why did that feel like such a big request from the universe?

Adrien and Nino waved to each other, and Lila perked up. It looked like they were separating. Were they separating? Oh, please be separating. That would be the most convenient thing to happen to her all month.

Adrien split off from Nino, to her delight, and Lila beelined after the blond. His meddling had gone on long enough, and she thought it was high time someone put an end to it. That someone being her. 

“Adrien!” Lila cooed, looping her arm with his and flashing a bright smile. “It’s been forever since we’ve talked just one on one, don’t you think?”

Adrien’s steps faltered, and for the briefest of moments, she saw his eyes darken. Nobody else would have noticed, especially not with the friendly smile he gave her right after, but Lila caught it. She was the only one who realized how truly despicable the model could be. 

“Oh, hey Lila.” He replied with an easy, clearly fake smile. “I guess we haven’t talked alone in a while. You normally like to be at the center of the crowd.”

Lila tried not to grit her teeth and instead elected to flip her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say the center. I’m just being myself, and the others seem to follow.”

Adrien hummed. “Yes, I’m sure you're a wonderful role model for all of us. It isn’t everyday we get the courtesy of having an honest and kind friend like you.”

His sarcasm was palpable, but his shining smile remained. A part of her wondered why he even bothered acting at this point. They both knew they were at war now. Niceties were only necessary when someone was clueless towards hidden motives. Adrien wasn’t, and neither was she, yet here they were. Smiling and trading snide remarks in the privacy of the empty locker room. 

Lila put on a bashful expression. “Oh, please-”

“Of course,” Adrien interrupted her, “there was also Marinette. She was always ready to help someone. It’s a shame she had to transfer schools.”

Lila bit the inside of her cheek to avoid sneering. There he goes again, mentioning that ridiculous baker girl. It’s so infuriating.

“Even though she was a bully? I’m sorry, Adrien, but I don’t think you should forgive someone so easily. They’ll walk all over you if you give them too much leeway.”

Adrien slipped- or rather jerked -his arm out of Lila’s grasp as he exchanged some of his books. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”  

Ah, there it is. That might have been the first genuine comment he’s made during this discussion. 

“What was that?” She asked with feigned politeness.

Adrien straightened and gave her another innocent smile. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if this could all be a big misunderstanding? The phone number that was terrorizing you wasn’t Marinette’s, after all. If you were.. mistaken.. on that story, perhaps you missed something in your other stories. Don’t you think so?”

Lila forced a smile so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Was this his way of giving her an out? A last chance of mercy? Because if it was, she refused to take it. She’s built this kingdom with nothing but her bare hands, and she’d be darned if she decided to lie down and let him take it away just as quickly. 

“I can’t say I do.”

Adrien closed his locker, a certain glint coming to his eyes when he looked at her. “Well.. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what I find. Won’t we?” 

Rage crackled through Lila’s bones as Adrien walked past her, but she caught herself before doing anything rash. If she was going to counter Adrien’s sudden attacks, she needed to make a deal with him and get him off of her back just long enough to plan. And to do that, she needed to promise him what he apparently wanted most.

“What if it wasn’t her?”

Adrien stopped in the doorway, and Lila held her breath.

“..Because it wasn’t her,” he corrected, “I’ll be hoping that she comes back.”

Lila drew in a deep breath, if only to avoid screaming. Marinette, Marinette, Marinette- Why did he have to have to be so infatuated with Marinette? What could she possibly have that made Adrien want to fight against the whole school to get her back? 

“Alright..” She said, completely calm. “Say you were right. If it happened to turn out that Marinette wasn’t the one responsible and I convince her to come back, will we all be able to get along?”

Bile rose to her mouth as she spoke. The very thought of running back to Marinette and asking her to come back to Dupont made Lila’s stomach churn, but this was fine. She was only promising to bring Marinette back. Promises can easily be broken.

Adrien smiled, but not like the fake, warm smiles he’d been giving her throughout their conversation. No, this one was sharp, predatory, as though he could see right through her words.

“See you in class, Lila.”

The “golden child” left the locker room then, and Lila finally gave in to her frustration and let out a growl. This was supposed to be her victory, her turf, and yet she can’t even enjoy it anymore because Adrien freaking Agreste decided to meddle in business that wasn’t his. He knew that the only reason she was willing to compromise was because he was getting to her, and that burned her up inside. 

She drew in another deep breath and smoothed out her miniature ponytails. This was fine. Everything was fine. Adrien might be deciding to join the squabble a tad later than usual, but Lila invented this game. If he wanted to try his hand at her tactics and strategies, fine. He would soon realize why she was able to climb to the top in the first place.

~~~~~~~

Marinette stared out the car window with awe as they drove up the street towards Allegra’s estate. In the week that led to the group sleepover, Marinette had racked her brain day and night trying to decide what the mansion would be like. How tall would it be? How wide? Would it take up an entire street or a small square of Paris like Gabriel’s? Would there be butlers running around like in the movies or would there be a simple maid or two to keep things moving? Perhaps there wouldn’t be any hired hand at all? The excitement and anticipation made her buzz and bounce through the last few school days at Rosemary, but she refused to ask any questions during the wait for winter break. Marinette wanted the mansion to be a complete surprise. And now that she was finally here, sitting in the backseat of Allegra’s miniature limo and practically pressing her face against the window, she couldn’t be happier with that decision.

Mansions of all kinds lined the sidewalks, bigger and more elegant than she could have ever imagined. Some had marvelous fountains, while others had incredible gardens. Some had amazing walls with ingrained art that lined the premises, and one mansion even had horses grazing on their front lawn! It made her wonder why Gabriel would build his mansion in the middle of the city, or if any of these mansions might belong to Claude, Allan, or Felix. 

Near the end of the street rested a long brick wall that had elaborate, white statues decorating the major corners. Marinette guessed immediately that that was Allegra’s mansion, because the wall wrapped around an enormous white house that had silver railings for the balconies and blue-ish grey tiles for the rooftops, quite contrary to the golds and dark browns that came with the other mansions. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and that seemed like something Allegra would enjoy, even if the house belonged directly to her parents. 

Sure enough, the car rolled to a stop in front of the black metal gate that the brick walls led to, and the driver told Marinette to stay put as he hopped out of the vehicle. She watched quietly as he unlocked the gate by hand using a personal key and quickly found herself wiggling in her seat when he started pushing the gates open. They were so close! Allegra’s mansion was right there! If they didn’t start moving again in two seconds, Marinette might just jump out and start running.

The driver got back into the car with a small apology for the inconvenience- to which she assured him that it was fine through barely contained squeals -and they continued through the gate at a leisure pace, which killed Marinette inside. She wanted to get into the mansion now!

In an effort to remain still, her eyes flicked around the front lawn of the estate. The driveway they had pulled into appeared to be a full circle, looping around an intricate water fountain that spouted bursts of water in such a way that made the water look as though it were dancing.  Diamonds of dark green grass cut through the concrete in the driveway, leading to the rest of the vibrant grass on the lawn, and a delightful mix of bushes and flowers lined the inside of the brick wall as well the outside of the mansion. It struck Marinette as quaint and refined at the same time, and her respects went out to the person- or persons -responsible for designing and maintaining the look.

Finally, the limo parked in front of these wide, marble steps that led to the front door, and the driver barely had time to open Marinette’s back door before she leapt out with her bags in her arms. If the outside was this luxurious, she couldn’t wait to see how breathtaking the inside would be. 

“Thanks for the ride, sir!” She called over her shoulder as she hopped up the steps two-by-two.

“Oh, miss-!” The man yelled after her. “May I take your bags?”

Marinette skidded to a halt and turned around, ready to politely decline his offer, when another voice spoke up behind her.

“No need, Louis! I’ve got them.”

Marinette whirled back around, coming face to face with Allegra, who was now standing in the doorway with a bright smile. 

The blonde reached forward to take the bags with one hand, while giving Marinette a side hug with the other. “I’m so happy you’re here! This is going to be great.”

“I know! I’ve been waiting for this all week! Your house looks amazing.”

A grin spread across Allegra’s lips, and she pulled back from the hug in favor of grabbing Marinette’s hand. “If you like it now, just wait till you see the inside.”

The two girls waltzed inside together, but as soon as she entered, Marinette couldn’t help gasping and breaking away from Allegra to run further into the house. Tiled, marble floors stretched out before her, seemingly farther than the street she had just driven down, and on the other side of the bigger-than-life foyer was a set of large, open windows that touched from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level. They overlooked the backyard, which was equally as enchanting as the front yard, and a part of her had the urge to sit down and stare at them wistfully for a good hour or two.

To her left and right were a pair of long, curved stairs that led to the second floor. They matched the marble tiles on the first floor and had beautiful, metal railings that curled and twisted into different types of flowers and leaves. The railing also trailed off to the open hallways above, where Marinette could see different types of doors lined up. Her restless brain wanted to skip up the stairs, brush her hand across the smooth, black railing, and explore each and every room possible.

Her gaze dragged up to the ceiling, and her jaw fell slack yet again as she realized exactly how high the building was. The circular sunroof that signified the center of the ceiling felt higher than the Eiffel Tower itself, and Marinette was certain that if she called out, it would take at least five seconds to hear her voice echoing back to her.

“Well?” Allegra asked next to her. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Marinette blanched. “Allegra, this is incredible! Do you really live here?”

A musical laugh came from the blonde, and she nodded. “Yep. Ever since I was five. Come on, I’ll give you a tour!”

They made their way to the stairs, and Marinette eagerly ran her hand across the cool railings as she continued to look around. She couldn’t believe how astonishing everything looked. It was as though they’d taken the finest jewels and rocks on earth and merged them together to create this mansion. How did they even afford all of this?

“What did you say your mom did again?”

Allegra glanced over at her. “My mom? She’s a-”

“Hey!”

The two girls paused mid step and looked up at the open hallway. Claude stood just above them, leaning over the railing and waving with a wide grin. Allan stood behind him, also offering the girls a friendly smile as a greeting.

“Is that Marinette?” Claude called.

“Yep! She just got here.”

“Sweet!” The brunette cheered. He dashed from his place upstairs and, once he got a good enough momentum, jumped to a stop, using his socks to slide the rest of the way to the stairwell. “We’ve been waiting forever for you to show up!”

Marinette giggled and ran up the rest of the stairway to give Claude a hug. “I got my clothes together as fast as I could.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Allan assured as he came to join them. “You’re technically early anyway.”

“I thought I was.” Marinette remarked, pulling away from Claude to give Allan a small hug as well. “Is Felix here too?”

“Nope, it’s just us right now.” Claude answered with a smile. “We already had clothes here from previous sleepovers.”

“They practically have their own personal closets at this point.” Allegra snorted. Then, she gave Marinette a playful nudge. “And soon, so will you.”

Marinette smiled. She wasn’t sure that she even had enough clothes to fill another closet, but it didn’t stop her from feeling giddy towards receiving one. Having a personal closet at Allegra’s meant she would be coming over much more often, and that was something she desperately wanted to do at this point.

“Have you shown her around yet?” Claude asked.

“Nope. I was gonna show her my room first, though, so I can put her bags down in there.”

“Oh, good idea.” The brunette remarked, taking the opportunity to snag Marinette’s bags from Allegra’s hands. “Let’s go! You’re gonna love it, Mari.”

With everyone together- save for Felix -the group eagerly clambered down the hallway that Claude and Allan had previously been in. The black railway from the staircase continued to twist down the hall next to Marinette, and when it finally stopped at a wall, Claude stopped at a doorway to his right. Glittering stickers arched across the door, spelling out the word “Allegra”.

“Those are from when I was, like, nine.” Allegra commented, a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she opened her bedroom door.

Marinette was about to say that it was fine- she actually found the lettering to be endearing -but any form of words or replies were lost on her when she saw the bedroom for the first time.

Everything was covered in light purples and white, with occasional bits of gold and light blue to accent the room. An enormous, deep purple bed with swirling, golden patterns sat in the center, holding pillows that were bigger than Marinette’s bed alone and a comfort that looked fluffier than her warmest ear-muffs. A pair of blue, see-through curtains wrapped around the bed as well, reminding her of something a princess might own. 

Across the room- which was twice the size of her little attic bedroom -were two white shelves that stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. They held various things such as books, notebooks, miniature glass statues, and plenty of other trinkets that struck Marinette as charming. She wondered how long it must have taken Allegra to collect such things, or if she bought them all in one go as she decorated her room. There were even a few crystal wind-chimes hanging around the room. 

“This is..” Marinette wasn’t sure what it was as she walked inside, star-struck. The girl even had her own chandelier, for Pete’s sake! Then there was the massive vanity with a million different types of eyeshadow- all aligned perfectly in an orderly fashion -and the massive desk on the other side of the room that had a fancy paperweight and a nice, little trinket to hold all of Allegra’s pencils and such for school. Don’t get her started on the chair hanging from the ceiling that looked equally fancy and comfortable.

“Do I really get to sleep in here?” She eventually asked instead. Words couldn’t describe her thoughts on the room or how it looked like something out of a daydream. 

Allegra laughed. “Yep! We’re actually going to be spending most of the night here.”

“After we go swimming, of course.” Claude added as he set Marinette’s bags down in the walk-in closet.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the remark. She’d almost forgotten why she came here in the first place. “Where is the swimming pool?”

“It’s downstairs.” Allegra answered. “I can’t wait for you to see it. We have a water slide and everything.”

Marinette would have gasped, but after what she’s seen so far, she wouldn’t be surprised if they had their own personal zoo. “Can we go see it?”

“Absolutely!” The blonde smiled, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “But first, we need to finish our tour.”

The group made their way out of Allegra’s room and started exploring each door they passed. Claude, Allan, and Allegra took turns explaining each room’s purpose to Marinette, and she absorbed their words as best she could. Most of the time, though, she was lost in her thoughts, completely awed by the structure of the household.

Each room appeared to be bigger than the last, and some of them had Marinette nearly falling over from the amount of money that had to have gone into the décor. There were offices and dining halls and bigger bedrooms for Allegra’s parents. Then there were game rooms with pool tables and living rooms with couches that stretched around the entire room so everyone could see each other. Vases and sculptures lined the hallways and hid in the corners while extensive family portraits littered walls and held personal places on overly huge fireplaces. 

In a word, the entire mansion was extravagant, especially for a three-person family, but despite the overwhelming amount of space, Marinette could feel the warmth and familial love of each room. A multitude of memories resided in the walls, and she couldn’t wait to hear all of them.

One room in particular caught her attention the most.

“What is this place?” Marinette asked as she walked into another wide-spread room. Musical instruments of all kinds littered the area- harps, violins, cellos, pianos, guitars, mandolins, and other things she couldn’t even name. They all appeared to be in mint condition, so clean that she could see her reflection in them, and the little kid in Marinette wanted to run around and try each one of them.

“This,” Allegra said next to her, “is our music room.”

“Music room..” Marinette whispered as her hand ran over a pair of literal bongos. “Can you actually play all of these?”

Claude snorted behind them. “She definitely wishes she could.”

Allegra scoffed and smacked his arm with a playful glare. 

“No, I can’t play all of them.. But I’m working on it.”

“Wow.” Marinette muttered. That had to be time consuming. Where did she find the drive to keep practicing all of these? 

“..Can I touch them?”

“Oh, yeah! Touch them all. Go crazy. I can even teach you how to play a little tune for some of them if you want.”

Marinette lit up. “Can you really?”

Allegra chuckled. “Of course. We have all night, don’t we?”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid squealing again, and she promptly darted off to try everything she could. Any strings and keys would be briefly plucked and pressed before being cast away for the next instrument. She would thump on the drums and blow on the tubas and, occasionally, she would stop to try a few simple tunes on an instrument that sounded especially enchanting to her. 

After about thirty minutes of this heaven- there were a lot of instruments -someone knocked on the doorframe at the front of the room, gathering the group’s attention.

A man with light brown hair stood in the doorway, offering an easy, yet apologetic smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Allegra, who had been teaching Marinette how to play the Panda Drum, hopped up from her position on the floor to greet him with a hug. “Not at all! I was just showing Marinette around the house. Mari, this is my dad, Arthur. Dad, this is Marinette, my friend from school that I’ve been telling you about.”

Marinette set the drum aside and stood up as well. “It’s nice to meet you, M. Chanson.”

“Oh, please.” M. Chanson held up a dismissive hand. “Just call me Arthur. Or even Uncle Arthur, if you like.”

A soft smile spread across Marinette’s lips, and she nodded. He sounded exactly like Maman when someone new came to their house.

“Anyway, I just came by to drop off the last bit of your group. He found me in the kitchen while looking for you.” Arthur said. He then stepped to the side to reveal none other than Felix, who had apparently been standing behind him the whole time.

Marinette perked up at the sight of the blond. “Oh, Felix! You’re here!”

“Here late.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix shot him a look. “I’m not late. I told you all that I wouldn’t quite be here at the same time as everyone else.”

“Telling us that you’re going to be late doesn’t mean that you weren’t late.” Allegra pointed out. “It just means that you were considerate about your tardiness.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was correct, and Marinette pursed her lips to avoid laughing, because she also knew that Allegra was correct.

“So I see you’ve been showing her my instruments?” Arthur cut in, redirecting the conversation.

Marinette’s eyes widened. “These are your instruments?”

Arthur chuckled. “Yep. In fact, I taught Allegra everything she knows.”

“You mean you can actually play all of them?”

“Well, some better than others,” The man responded with a half shrug, “but yeah. I’m honestly a little disappointed that A didn’t come get me when she showed you the room.”

Allegra winced. “Oh, sorry, Dad. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“That’s amazing..” Marinette remarked, dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine having enough memory to know how each individual instrument was played. 

Arthur tilted his head back and forth with a hum. “I wouldn’t say amazing. A lot of these instruments are extremely similar to how they’re played, and at some point, once you’ve learned enough, you start to realize that a lot of music has a certain order to it. When you know that order, it makes playing a lot easier.”

“Oh, don’t be modest.” Allegra scolded. “Who else can play almost all of the instruments of the world and memorize any new instruments within a week?”

Before Arthur could respond, Allegra turned to Marinette with a proud smile and continued.

“Dad’s able to combine these instruments like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot. It’s like he’s memorized every string, key, or chord possible! He’s even written songs for us too. Some of them are just funny little melodies to go with Claude’s acts, but others are full songs that he performs for me and Mom. Sometimes, when Mom’s stressed, he’ll sing or play for her to help her relax. I personally think that the songs he writes then are the best ones.”

The more she talked, the more bashful Arthur became, and Marinette couldn’t help cooing at the man. The thought of someone writing songs for the person they loved and singing them when that person felt down brought a wonderful warmth to her chest. It actually reminded her of another sweet boy she knew, one with blue-tipped hair and a smile that could melt the arctic.

“I have a friend like that.” She decided to say. Why not tell the others about him too? “He has a passion for the guitar and plays songs for me when I feel down too. It’s so calming.”

Something in her tone or expression must have caught their interest, because the group’s attention shifted from Allegra to Marinette in an instant. Before she could ask about the sudden change, Claude slipped an arm around her shoulders, flashing her a sly grin.

“Oh? A friend, you say?” He drawled. “You sound pretty fond of him. What’s his name?”

An involuntary blush crept across Marinette’s cheeks, more so at the implication in Claude’s voice than anything else. After two years of hanging around Alya, with her raised eyebrows and coy smiles, she could tell when someone was trying to accuse her of certain feelings towards another. 

“O-Oh. uhm.. His name is Luka.”

“Luka..” Allegra hummed. “I’ve never heard you mention his name before.”

“And I’ve never seen her blush like that before, either.” Claude teased. “You’re not being very subtle, Nette.”

Marinette felt her blush deepen, even though they both knew she was easily flustered. She’s probably blushed a million times in the month that she’s known them, and most of those blushes were definitely darker than the one she was wearing even now.

Her gaze flicked to Felix, curious as to what he thought on the matter. His expression remained neutral, though she spotted a bit of intrigue in his eyes. It didn’t help with her guilt towards the comments.

Then again, why should she feel guilty? Even if she did like Luka, that wouldn’t affect anyone here. There was no reason to be ashamed.

Nevertheless, she still wanted to slip her way out of getting teased, so she jokingly rolled her eyes and said, “You guys said we were going to go swimming, right? Felix is here, and it’s getting dark so we should probably change before it gets too late.”

“The pool is indoors.” Claude helpfully reminded. “It doesn’t matter how late it gets.”

“But that was a good try at dodging, though.” Allegra smirked.

A squeak flew from Marinette’s lips before she could stop it, and the trio shared a laugh.

“Come on, guys.” Allan lightly scolded. “If you keep messing with her like this, she might spontaneously combust.”

Another laugh tumbled from Claude’s lips before he let out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, fine. I guess we can go swimming now.”

“Marinette has to cool off, anyway.” Allegra added with a wink.

Marinette groaned and put her head in her hands, if only to hide her ever-growing blush. 

Mental note: Never mention a boy to the group again, because they will probably see right through you when it’s actually serious.

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 

[wallwriterstuff]

Her Reflection ||Marcus Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: Angst city central, descriptions of grief and depression

Words: 2741

Taglist: @royalvolturisblog @thelastemzy ​ @ferb13 ​ @raindancer2004 ​ @a-avaunce @broskibowser ​ @alecvolturiswifeforever ​ @college-is-coming @perfectcolortreestudent @volturidoll13 ​ @vamp-army

Summary:

A request for @like-rain-or-confetti

Marcus is resolute in his grief, so much so he has refused Corin’s gift many a time. When you show up, he can’t help but realise that perhaps his centuries of suffering were enough, that the contentment you offer is far more permanent than Corin’s. Maybe,  just maybe...Didyme sent you to him to give him one last chance at the happiness she loved to spread about.

You were a wonderful find.

Aro had been delighted to see you in his thoughts. He had been forced to leave the safety of Volterra for a business trip, the accounts of their business front needing attention every few decades to keep up the ruse of a modern, evolving company with changing leadership and new blood in its crew. The journey to Rome had been uneventful until they found the rogue little newborn tearing holes in a small residential area they had had to pass through. Demetri had quickly found the little fiend and as Aro took his face in his grasp, the images had raced through his mind, the regret he hadn’t taken your offer to help him strongly resonating through his body as it was mercilessly torn apart.

“Oh…Demetri…find this one.” He had murmured. Demetri did, and you had been amongst the guard now for eleven months. It had been a surprise to Marcus when you showed up with his brother as you didn’t seem to fit the Guard’s image – he wasn’t sure you knew how to be intimidating. It was clear you hadn’t come of your own volition, you were far too intelligent to be deceived into thinking Aro’s offer to join was real and clearly saw you actually had no choice at all, but still you came with a gracious smile, like you’d rather be nowhere else. After so many centuries of living and travelling as nomad you had confessed to Marcus a place to settle was nice, and despite so much time on your own you had a warm and welcoming nature that just drew the others to you.

It was all too easy to find your place when your place seemed to be everywhere and anywhere. As bitter and cautious as they were, even the twins seemed to warm to you rapidly after a few discussions. Marcus was mildly intrigued at first, but he didn’t really see enough of you to form any solid opinion on you. He only knew what he had heard, and what he had heard was that you were helpful and kind, quick to soothe pain and anger in others even if it festered in yourself. It sounded so awfully familiar to him that the raw ache in his chest, one that had never really gone away, throbbed so badly he was forced to turn his face to avoid your visage when you entered the room. Still, your voice was sugar sweet, melodic and soothing, it was a balm somehow to that pain. Months later he couldn’t say he was rid of it, he never would be rid of the pain he was sure, but it had dimmed somewhat.

His intrigue had turned to infatuation quickly when he finally let himself cast a glance at you. You were attractive to him, very pleasing to the eye though not in an exaggerated way. What made you beautiful was your personality, and it was what brought so many to your side in their efforts to win themselves a chance at capturing your affections. You turned down one after the next, the bonds you chose to make with the rest of the Guard purely founded on friendship and nothing more. Even when you grew those you coveted most it never came close to anything romantic and he was somewhat glad of that. He didn’t want to be the reason you never knew happiness, but he couldn’t help but wish that perhaps you might find it in him. There were other complications with that of course, because how could you ever give yourself to someone so broken? Was he even capable of love? How did you find happiness in someone devoid of it? He had felt it once before and this was so similar…

You had shown up more and more in the throne room, guarding them as they read. If you ever noticed his stare you didn’t say or make it obvious, but you did catch his eye once or twice and the smile you gave him warmed him inside. It had felt awful the first few times because how could he betray Didyme like that? How was it right, how was it fair, that he might get to feel any semblance of joy after his mate had gone unavenged? Was it even possible to fall in love again? Perhaps the centuries had worn away that original bond, but even that felt like a disservice to Didyme’s love, her kindness. It was enduring in ways that nothing else was. Then it hit him, you reminded him of her. The bond he could form with you was not so different to the one he had shared with her, you were too similar for it not to be.

Didyme’s gift had been happiness, the aura so inviting she had infected everyone around her with it, and while you didn’t share that gift you shared that personality. Marcus understood then, why the colour had returned to the halls as he walked them, why the sunshine seemed warmer on his skin as he passed by windows. It was you. Yet more complications came with that revelation because he was growing ever more restless (in his own lethargic way) and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide it. How did he tell you he had grown to love you for the very same reasons he had loved her? It was like looking at her reflection distorted in a mirror, a different face and different person but the same kind of heart. You had different passions and opinions and a slightly lethal edge to your physical prowess that he found gave him comfort, for it reminded him you were not her and you were able to defend yourself in ways she hadn’t been able to, but it also finally gave him the courage to admit that yes, he did love you, he did love you and he loved you because though you were like her you were not her.

Marcus didn’t want you to think about Didyme though when you spoke to him, he didn’t want you to see yourself as a replacement for a great, epic love. Unbeknownst to him, you had enquired about the sad king the moment you arrived. Marcus’s entire being radiated such grief and pain that it had been impossible not to ask about him, and given your easy to talk to nature (and the fear of what would happen to you if you unknowingly stuck your foot in your mouth) many a guard had happily told you the reasons for his depression.

“Didyme was beautiful.”

“Didyme was always so kind.”

“She made a whole room light up when she walked into it.”

“It was the greatest love story our kind have ever seen.”

Every statement had only made your heart hurt for the man more and more. His pain was so palpable, but his interest was also obvious. For a man so broken by the loss of such a momentous love it was surprising to say the least, but you also weren’t complaining. You had no desire to see anyone feel like he did, to be so trapped in darkness, and you had made it your mission to make the throne room feel a little lighter whenever you walked into it. Marcus was rather attractive in his own way, even with the corners of his mouth pulled down and his eyes so devoid of light. You were sure with a real smile he would look radiant as his eternal youth dictated he should. The day you got to see that first wisp of a smile was the day you became more determined to see it more often. Most people had gotten so used to overlooking Marcus unless he was called upon that you were able to share subtle looks and smiles from across the room with nobody really noticing – you smiled so often it wasn’t an unusual thing to see.

It was getting close to an important anniversary, important in Marcus’s mind anyway. You had been with the Guard for almost a year and people had started to notice the effects on the quiet King. Marcus had taken to wandering the halls more often than before, enjoying the library and the music room. The Gardens would be off-limits for a while yet, the tree planted in Didyme’s honour still blooming strong every year due to Aro’s careful upkeep and too much for his heart, his eyes. It was while admiring a painting in the hall that he came across you.

“Surely, after the length of your stay with us, you have seen this piece before?” his voice was soft, a slight rasp from the disuse and lack of satisfaction in his life that had lasted so long it was difficult to get rid of it. He felt like a schoolboy when you smiled at him, and for once he embraced the feeling rather than trying to shun it.

“I have, still it amazes me.” You confessed.

“There are larger pieces.” He mused.

“Size does not guarantee quality.” Your response was accompanied by a cheeky smile that made his own lips twitch upward, that ghost of a smile upon on his lips making you sigh contentedly. Twice in one day? It must have been vampire Christmas. For a while, you stood in silence and contemplated the painting before you. It was a simple piece of artwork, the Tuscan countryside interrupted by a quaint little cottage.

“What do you see?” Marcus asked you quietly. Head tilting, you hummed thoughtfully.

“I see peace.” You voice was decisive and he couldn’t help but frown. Peace? He had studied art a lot over the centuries and he had to admit, he had never once looked at this piece twice as something he could profoundly evaluate. It was a field, it was a cottage, it was…something that felt very literal in what it was.

“Peace?” he questioned.

You hummed. “The colours are so warm, and the hills just keep rolling. This landscape stretches forever, an endless path of golden light. There is always something to look forward to ahead but so much beauty around that cottage that you would be equally as happy to stay in that moment. To be able to see the beauty in what’s around us…that is the key to peace to me.”

Marcus could only stare at the painting, trying to see what you saw. He had seen nothing but grey for so long that the warm colours still felt faded. He couldn’t really remember what true peace felt like until he became brave enough to stand beside you. You radiated it. You were so content in life it was impossible not to feel the peace of mind you carried with you everywhere you went.

“What do you see?” you asked him. He didn’t dare stare into those wine-red eyes, sure his words would flee him. Marcus cleared his throat slightly, contemplating what to say. The truth was, he hadn’t seen anything in art ever since he began to study it. He had never seen metaphors or symbolism. Art had the potential to be beautiful and breath-taking but he had lost his ability to see it, until recently. There was…something, he realised, the more he stared at it.

“I see a cottage,” he said slowly, “But it is plain. Plain yet…surrounded by warmth. Isolated, and yet beautiful…it is…it feels as though, it could be home.” There was a deafening silence after he spoke, his words carrying more weight than he had first realised, weight you clearly felt. Marcus had lived in darkness, in agony and despair, in shadows, but with you there was light, joy, and beauty. He could live that way again if you allowed him the chance to. He could find that beautiful home in you. His hand was slow, reaching for yours. For a while the tip of his little finger touching the side of your hand was all he felt, not brave enough to go any further but so desperate to. When your fingers twitched, curling around his own to link your pinkies and hold his hand loosely, he knew instinctually that you wouldn’t let go. You would help him take that last step into the light. He didn’t need to be afraid.

“Master-“

“Marcus,” he amended softly, “I wish for you to call me Marcus.”

You nodded. “Marcus, then.”

A startled little laugh escaped him, because Didyme had once said the exact same thing to him. Unknowingly, you had replicated their very first exchange. Surprised red eyes stared up at him – you had never heard him laugh before. He seemed just as shocked since he wasn’t sure he was capable of such a sound anymore.

“You…you are so like her.” he sighed wistfully. In an ideal world she would be here, but…wasn’t this ideal? A second chance was unheard of amongst their kind and he was desperate to grasp it with both hands, but he feared holding too tight and shattering the hope he was unknowingly placing in you.

"Her? I...oh...Marcus..." you trailed off. Marcus finally met your eyes, the depth of sadness in his expression something you knew now you would never be able to fully alleviate, but you could meet him in the sea of his despair and keep him afloat, couldn’t you? This kind man deserved better.

“Forgive me. I had no wish to startle you, but you remind me so much of…of Didyme.” He whispered. Your expression softened, but there was no pity there, no sympathy, only gratitude. His honesty was applaudable and the courage it must have taken to say her name, that he felt safe enough to attempt such a feat with you of all people…you were grateful. Grateful to share this quiet moment with a man you had come to greatly admire, grateful to be held in such high esteem by him.

“That makes me truly happy to hear.” you confessed. Marcus frowned, looking confused.

“It does?” he questioned. You smiled, giving your interlocked fingers the slightest squeeze. Marcus slid his palm against your own, fully taking hold of your hand now he was more confident his affections were not about to be rejected.

“The day I arrived you looked so sad. I asked around, not wanting to say anything I shouldn’t and upset you further. The tales I heard, the descriptions I was given…it is an honour to think I might remind you of her in even the smallest of ways.” Your reassurance was like a warm blanket. Feeling cocooned and safe, he lifted your intertwined hands to brush the lightest of kisses against your knuckles. The tender gesture would have made you blush if you still had the ability.

“She was truly a miracle in my life, yet for all the ways you remind me of her, you seem to have just as many differences between you two,” he murmured, “I confess…I admire the reflection of her I see in you, but I love the little things that mark you as separate from her. It felt wrong to do so, yet I could not help it.” Pursing your lips, you tried to calm your racing thoughts as Marcus watched you for any hint of reaction. He had been open and honest, taken a brave step, and he needed you to meet him halfway lest he retreat back into the shadows. Living in hope was no foreign thing for you and you didn’t just meet him halfway, you anchored him in that hope so he might never retreat again.

“It would be a privilege to help you remember what it is like to be loved.” You assured him. Marcus gave you another small smile. Over time, those smiles grew and grew until they crinkled his eyes at the corners. Some days he laughed. On one rare occasion you had gotten him to dance with you in the music room to the record playing on the gramophone. Bit by bit the light returned to his eyes until he beamed so brightly when he saw you that it was obvious to everyone the Marcus they had once known had been partially revived. Grief was a constant companion but it no longer crippled him, and in the safety of your embrace Marcus felt so far from the shadows he was certain for the first time in centuries that he was finally free of them.

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do Kakeru Manabe dating Momiji’s twin sister. She was also born with the zodiac curse, and like they tell everyone and are ready to tell Akito and he doesn’t improve, how would everyone react? Including Manabe. Would they defend her and try to make him agree to them dating? Thank you if you read this have a good day or night sjsnsnsj 😅 ALSO IM SORRY IF ITS TOO MUCH DJDKWNDK

Heya! While I do write for Fruits Basket (thank heavens for another fandom in my inbox for once lol) I write reader!inserts not the story of your OC that you don’t feel like writing out yourself. So what I will do is write a Kakeru Manabe x reader story with a character that has the zodiac curse, but otherwise there will be no Momiji’s twin, because I sure hope that the OC has more of an identity than just being a copy of Momiji.

A/N: Of course I write a Fruits Basket piece on the eve of Lunar New Year. 😅😅😅 HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE. 🐮🐮🐮

Fandom: Fruits Basket

Character: Kakeru Manabe

Prompt: Sohmacursed!reader

He slept in the flowerbeds without a care. Earning complaints from many. The school council president dared to roughen him up in public, earning a surprised look as the image of prince charming broke. He did everything differently and earned no ire, only more fans for the actions he took. Kakeru Manabe was a strange individual that went against the grain and that had your attention. Someone who was capable of pulling out a different side out of everyone.

Affable was a word that would suit him. Along with attentive, for he always thought and minded the rest first, even while he slept in flower beds, or did something silly that earned Yuki’s fist once more. Kakeru Manabe was, by all accounts a charming young male that had deserved his spot in popularity despite his ditzy outer appearance, if only because of something dark hidden beneath. It was attractive, for a Sohma at least. For they often lived under a façade as well, for they often craved the genuine attention of those surrounding them.

And here was the danger for you, for a Sohma was not supposed to interact with those from the outside. For they were not allowed to be with those uninitiated and you were very much not an exception. In fact, you were a reason even.

“We can’t be together,” you had stated, and Yuki had solemnly nodded, understanding the why but not willing to accept it just like that. However, as a fellow Sohma what was he to suggest else? The outsiders wouldn’t understand and as much as Kakeru was someone of great understanding and acceptance he was just another outsider. After all, it wasn’t unheard of from their own mothers to abandon their children once they found the curse, what obligation had he not to do the same?

“Ahaha, please don’t be like that,” Kakeru had responded, first thinking that you were jesting. Your humour had always been rather outlandish, it was why the two of you got along so well. Just last week you had been the one confessing to him, albeit covertly, but now it was him who returned the words to you, openly. Surely feelings couldn’t have changed that quickly?

“Oooh, is it because you’re actually the heir of a throne in a foreign country? It is fine, I will be your Prince Charming!” the male had exclaimed, thinking that you truly were playing a game with him, but at your stern expression Kakeru’s bright shimmering light dimmed a little as he eyed you and then Yuki and then you again.

“Is it because of my family?” he questions, a pensive look on his face as he recalls the complications his own family came with. The difficulties Machi had to suffer from. The things he fought so hard to break away from. Was it all fruitless in the end?

You shook your head once more, a soft smile on your lips as you took a step away from the male, creating distance between the two of you. It was regrettable that Yuki was here, when it was supposed to be a private moment, but also fortunate, for you were sure that he was needed to pick up the pieces of his friend that you were to leave behind.

“It is mine,” you answered honestly, remembering the way Akito had reacted to Rin and Hatsuharu, recalling the story of why Hatori’s fiance had suddenly left him, the heartbreak, the pain, the inevitable tragedy that was to come, but above all the lack of what you wanted to give him the most; the curse holding you back. And that was all you had been willing to say as you turned away, leaving him with only your rejection.

But Kakeru was amongst the many traits of affableness and charm also determined, unwilling to let go once he had understood that this went against yourself as much as it went against him to let you go.

Kakeru knew himself not to be as kind and as empathetic as he would like to be, often needing others to explain to him what the perspective of the other was. But he understood family and especially complicated families as a member of one himself. Or so he had believed when he tried to dive into yours and tried to figure out what it was that had made you say what you had.

“Have you tried to embrace a Sohma? Have you ever pressed their body against yours and felt its true form?”

The mysterious head of the Sohma family had left Kakeru with even more questions as he wondered what it was that Akito had meant. Kakeru had, without a fear, approached the head to put the hierarchy of the Sohma into question. An inquiry that had earned him a cold and callous ire in which he was challenged to do the one thing you had always avoided. Was it in there that your secret laid?

He had considered it, Kakeru had, but the thought disturbed him as he realised the implications that Akito had so carefully suggested. Was he able to disturb your boundaries as such, to force out your secrets to him so casually all for the sake of starting a relationship?

“You will destroy it before you have it,” were Yuki’s words when he tried to seek counsel from his friend. Yuki’s grey eyes had been so sad, back to that gloomy cold prince he had been before they became friends. It was a loneliness that Kakeru had come to recognise in all members of the Sohma, which he sometimes saw in you as well.

“Whatever it is,” the male decided to tell you instead, “I hope one day you will come to see me as someone that you trust enough to share your secret with,” he had told you after relaying the story of his meeting with Akito. He regretted his own noisiness, lamented his curiosity, but had satisfied himself with patience. Patience that he was willing to use to wait for you to be ready, or for his feelings to die out, though Kakeru had a feeling that was going to be another long while. He was after all, quite stubborn.

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt24

GOOD EVENING GUYS GALS AND NONBINARY PALS!!!!! i hope u are having a good day. :) 

pt1

pt23

pt25

(Y/N) stormed down through the palace, her dress billowing behind her as she walked. The stone cold look on her face alerted the servants that she was on a war path and it was best to leave her alone. Whatever the Fire Lord had gotten himself into, he surely deserved it. 

It was relatively early in the morning when (Y/N) opened her bedroom door to find Ursa holding a sleepy Kiyi in her arms. The previous Fire Queen gave her a stressed smile. “Noren and I wanted to go out into town today. Do you think you could watch her?” (Y/N) nodded quickly. 

“Of course! Today’s my day off.” She bent down so she was eye level with the little girl. “Do you want to have fun with me today, Kiyi?” The little girl sheepishly turned into her mother’s neck. 

“She’ll warm up to you,” Ursa promised, before handing her daughter to (Y/N). “Thank you so much, (Y/N).” She smiled. 

“Anything for you.” Kiyi squirmed in her arms as Ursa walked away, obviously very uncomfortable with being left alone with her. (Y/N) set her on the ground and took her hand. 

“Would you like to go see the turtle ducks?” Kiyi looked up at her and nodded eagerly. They walked to the pond and one of the servants gave them grapes to feed to the animals. She and Kiyi took turns throwing their grapes in. The little girl gave a small giggle every time a turtle duck ate her grape. 

“What would you like to do next?” (Y/N) asked once they had finished feeding the turtle ducks. Kiyi put a tiny finger on her chin and looked up at the sky as she thought. 

“Dolls!” She exclaimed. (Y/N) picked her back up and they walked into the palace and to Kiyi’s room. Zuko had ensured that his little sister would be absolutely comfortable while she stayed in the palace, so he had her pick all of the toys she liked from in town and brought them back into her room. She was incredibly spoiled, but she was so sweet that she deserved it. 

(Y/N) sat on the floor with Kiyi and played dolls with her. She couldn’t remember playing with dolls in her own childhood. She had received them as gifts, but her mother would put them in a case, claiming that they were too pretty to be played with. Azula had been her only other friend beside Zuko, and neither were very interested in playing with dolls. 

“There you are,” Zuko said as he poked his head into the room. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

“Zuzu!” Kiyi cheered, standing up and running over to her brother. She hugged his legs. 

“Kiyi!” Zuko cheered back, picking her up and taking her into his arms. (Y/N) smiled at the sight. “What have you and (Y/N) been up to?” 

“Dolls!” She turned herself to point at the toys. 

“And we fed the turtle ducks,” (Y/N) stood to join the two. “And now it’s time for a nap, I think!” 

“No!” Kiyi groaned, flopping over in Zuko’s arms. He started tickling her, causing her to erupt into giggles. He tossed her into (Y/N’s) arms, who tossed her gently into bed. 

“I’ll read you a story and then you gotta go to sleep, okay?” Kiyi gave a small sigh and nodded. Zuko leaned down and gave her a kiss on her forehead. 

“We’ll have extra fruit tarts for dessert if you take your nap,” He whispered. The smile on her face was wide and bright and it absolutely melted (Y/N’s) heart. “I’ll see you later,” Zuko said to (Y/N) before leaving the room. She knelt by Kiyi’s bed and began reading her the story about the first firebenders. 

As Kiyi fell asleep, a servant knocked at the door. (Y/N) got up quickly and rushed outside so that Kiyi wouldn’t wake up. She smiled pleasantly at the servant. “Can I help you?” 

“This came for you today,” The woman said as she handed her a scroll. (Y/N) gave her an approving nod to dismiss her. 

As she read, she clenched the paper in her hands. Ren had written her a goodbye letter that stated that Zuko had banished him and his father from the Fire Nation. “I think I made him jealous,” Ren wrote, “Because I was taking your time away from him.” (Y/N) tried her best to hold in the hot, angry tears that formed as she read his letter. 

(Y/N) missed Katara a lot. Throughout their adventures together, Katara had become her best friend and the person she told absolutely everything to. Every hope, every dream, everything she ever felt seemed to flow out of her mouth and straight to Katara. Their relationship wasn’t one-sided either. (Y/N) was the first person from the Fire Nation that Katara had ever liked. She showed her that not everyone should be held accountable for the decisions of their nation. The two girls grew up in completely different lives, but their bond was strong. She hadn’t seen Katara in a few months, which was the longest span of time they had gone without seeing each other. Today, (Y/N) felt that she really needed Katara, or else she might kill Zuko. 

She crumpled the note in her hands and threw it down the hall. Katara would tell her to get both sides of the story before making any rash decisions. But Katara, unfortunately, wasn’t there. 

(Y/N) stormed down through the palace, her dress billowing behind her as she walked. The stone cold look on her face alerted the servants that she was on a war path and it was best to leave her alone. Whatever the Fire Lord had gotten himself into, he surely deserved it. 

As she walked up to the doors of the throne room, the guards stationed out front held a hand up to stop her. “You must request an audience before speaking with the Fire Lord,” one guard said. (Y/N) squinted her eyes up at the guard. She hated using her position as leverage against people, but she had no choice at the moment. 

“I’m (Y/N), Fire Lord Zuko’s most trusted advisor. I need to speak to him immediately.” 

“But--” The other guard said. (Y/N) whirled to face him. 

“What do you think the Fire Lord would say if he knew you delayed me?” The guards looked at each other before parting to let her through the doors.

Zuko sat on his throne, drinking a steaming cup of tea. He smiled when he say her. 

“Oh, hi.” (Y/N) stared at Zuko, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering up at him. 

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” She demanded. Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. “You had no right to banish Ren and his father the way you did. And for what reason? Were you upset that I was paying more attention to him than I was to you?” 

“That’s not it.” 

“Why, Zuko? Why throw him out? What did he do to you?” 

“He didn’t do anything to me--” 

“Then tell me why you banished him!” She shouted. She could feel the fire building inside of her. Her body was itching to release it. She couldn’t understand why Zuko would do this to her. She had seen him be jealous before, but she never thought he would be capable of hurting her like this. 

“Because he was using you!” Zuko yelled. The flames at his side soared to the ceiling. Their force blew a blast of hot air into (Y/N’s) face. “He was planning to gain your trust so that he could use you to get to me.” 

She shook her head furiously. “You’re lying. He wouldn’t do that.” Zuko stood and walked down the steps to get closer to her.

“He was doing it! The whole reason he even befriended you in the first place was so that you could help sway my decisions in their favor.” His statement felt like a stab in the heart to (Y/N). She didn’t want to believe him. She didn’t want to believe that the person she had opened up to so easily was just using her the entire time. 

Her eyes welled with tears. “You’re wrong!” 

“Fine! Believe the Earth Kingdom boy over me, see if I care. You can join him if you’d like.” Zuko turned around to walk back to his throne, but stopped as soon as he heard her sobs. When he looked back at her, her face was buried in her hands. She tried her hardest to suppress her cries, but it was no use. (Y/N) knew Zuko was telling the truth. She knew Zuko like she knew herself. He had never lied to her before and would have no reason to start now. But his honesty hurt. (Y/N) had told Ren things that she had only ever told those closest to her. To think that he was only using her to further his own political advantages broke her heart. The feeling of being used was new, but she hated it. 

“Hey,” Zuko said softly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t actually want you to leave. I just got upset.” She continued to cry, so he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Sit with me.” He led her up the steps to his throne and sat her down. He was right at her side, pouring her a cup of tea. 

She finally calmed down enough to speak. Her body still shook with leftover sobs, but she tried her best to contain them. “I can’t believe I couldn’t tell.” 

“He was a pretty good actor.” 

“You saw right through him.” She turned to Zuko. Her eyes were still shiny with tears. “When you first met him. How’d you know?” 

“I thought he was a little too confident for someone standing in the presence of the Fire Lord.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m serious! He was too bold. I saw your face when he called himself your boyfriend. I knew something had to be up.” 

(Y/N) sipped her tea slowly. It wasn’t as good as Iroh’s, but it would do. “Why would he use me?” 

“He probably read up on us and knew how close we are.” 

“Yeah, but I can’t even convince you to get out of bed on time. What made him think that I could force a political agenda on you?” 

“(Y/N), if you asked me to move a volcano for you, I’d figure out how to do it.” 

“That’s too easy,” She said with a smile. “All you’d need are earth and firebenders.” Zuko rolled his eyes. 

“You get the point. I’d do absolutely anything for you. He figured that out.” 

(Y/N) stared at Zuko for a long time. She had memorized practically every inch of his face. From his amber eyes to the deep red color of his scar, Zuko was etched into her mind like a stone carving. Ren was the distraction that she had needed to keep her mind off of Zuko. But he was gone now, and so she had nothing to keep her from pining for him. 

“I think maybe I should take a vacation,” She said quietly, turning back to stare at her cup. “A few weeks or something. I could stay with Katara or Toph. Probably Katara, because I don’t think Toph has any beds.” 

“If that’s what you want,” Zuko said. A sad smile graced his features. 

“You could invite Mai to stay in the palace while I’m gone, so you don’t get so lonely.” Zuko turned away. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“Mai and I aren’t together anymore. We haven’t been since before I found my mother.” 

“You didn’t tell me that.” 

“You and I hadn’t exactly been the best of friends before I left.” (Y/N) frowned. So he had noticed her distance. He was quiet for a few moments, and then asked, “I thought things were going well for us. Then it was like you were pushing me away.” 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered. “I just couldn’t handle it.”

“Handle what? Me being me Fire Lord?” She shook her head. “Being back here?” 

“No, it’s not that at all.” She felt her mouth become dry all of a sudden. She should do it. She should just tell him everything. 

“I couldn’t handle being around you and Mai.” 

“Me and Mai? Why?” 

“Do I have to lay it all out for you?” She felt hot. The room was big, but she felt so confined. “I love you, Zuko. I loved you when were kids, I loved you when we were enemies, and I loved you when you were dating Mai. So that’s why I couldn’t be around the two of you.” 

(Y/N) could feel Zuko’s eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. The silence only increased the embarrassment of the moment for her. She felt like running away. 

“You’re an idiot.” (Y/N) whirled to stare at him, her mouth open in shock. 

“Excuse me?” 

“How was I supposed to know that’s how you felt if you never told me?” 

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” 

“No, it wasn’t! You’re not the open book you think you are. You literally fought me in an Agni Kai, how was I supposed to know you loved me?” 

“I saved your life!” 

“You saved lives like every day! How was I supposed to be different?” (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but immediately closed it. Perhaps he was right. She hadn’t really given him any indication of how she felt about him. She huffed and crossed her arms, turning away from him. 

Zuko put his hand on her cheek, turning her head to look back at him. He stroked his cheek with her thumb. She closed her eyes tightly to brace herself for the impending rejection. 

Instead, ever so softly, she felt Zuko’s lips press to hers. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of his robes, trying to pull him closer but not quite sure if she should hold back. 

When they pulled away, (Y/N) opened her eyes quickly, searching Zuko’s face for any sign of remorse. Instead, he smiled at her. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Well, you’re kind of scary.” (Y/N) giggled. “And I thought that after everything that happened, there would be no way for me to have a chance with you.” Zuko kissed her forehead, each of her cheeks, and then her nose. (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. “I love you, (Y/N). Always have, always will.” 

She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. So many terrible things had happened to them during their lives. But in this moment, if she had to relive it all over again, (Y/N) wouldn’t change anything. 

[arabian-bloodstream]

Why in Angela Kang I Trust

Maybe because I've been bruised and battered by showrunners and exec producers when it comes to couples and have also been rewarded (very, very, VERY rarely -- OK, like once), that is why I'm feeling positive about Caryl with regards to the spoilers.

Lemme give a bit of my history.  I've had sooooo many couples, it's not even funny. I'm beyond a couple-girl.  I've been involved in Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, The Vampire Diaries, Veronica Mars, The 100, Star Wars, Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandoms (and many more). Yeah, so I've been through some ups and downs in the fandoms themselves and with the end result of the product/my couple preference.

Two of the things that these fandoms taught me were (a) critical analysis of the product taking *everything* into account and not just my couple, and (b) how to deal with spoilers to keep myself sane.

NOTE: This is how I deal. I'm not telling anyone else how to feel or deal. This is my bag and what works for me and why I'm personally totally, 100% positive about Caryl despite the recent spoilers.

In one of my fandoms, I was heartbroken by how an episode played out. It made no sense to me. I had analyzed everything, paid attention to all the road signs... how could I have been so wrong? How could she choose the other guy??! It took a few weeks, but I re-thought everything and realized that I had been so focused on analyzing MY couple that I had ignored the OTHER couple. I had ignored the other aspects of the show and that other aspect mattered. It was like a bomb went off in my head. Suddenly something so obvious was now so clear to me.  

From that moment on when I analyzed the show, I analyzed every character, every aspect of it and I gotta tell you all I just about nailed every character plot point. Not the twists/turns, but the emotional, character beats? I was right as rain on those. Because here's the obvious thing, no showrunner/headwriter is ever going to write for ONE character, ONE couple. They are going to write for every single character, every single couple.  And if they are good writers they aren't going to take fanfic-like shortcuts to get them where we would like them to be, they are going to dig deep and explore who they are as characters to bring them organically to where they belong.

So... The Walking Dead. Angela Kang. Daryl Dixon. Carol Peletier. Caryl. (FINALLY! Ya'll say.) Angela Kang is a GOOD showrunner/headwriter. She brought TWD back from the disaster that Scott Gimple had made of the show. Seriously, I think 3-4 seasons went by and only 2 months had passed in that time. It was mostly a slow-moving morass of nothing happening with most characters doing nothing, barely connecting. Blech! It was mostly just not good. She whipped this show into shape.

Kang also took a long look at Carol, Daryl and Caryl and realized that in order to get them where they needed to be... which was TOGETHER ROMANTICALLY, they needed a helluva lot of work because Gimple had done ABSOLUTE SHIT with them for about 4 years. They had barely a handful of scenes over that time period, had been mostly separated and both characters had been decimated in completely different ways.

Carol's grief, guilt and horrendous actions had been completely and utterly sublimated. She told no one (including Daryl) about what happened with all of the children she had lost by her hand or through she felt because of her.  So what did Kang do? She used the relationship that Gimple had begun with Ezekiel to create this fairytale fantasy that Carol could escape to since she couldn't be with her Alexandria family anymore because of that grief and guilt. She gave her that respite and escape until she was ready to live with the reality of all she'd done.

And then she opened the door to that grief and guilt with Henry's death, destroying that fairytale/fantasy so that she could finally begin to heal. And that is what we are finally getting now, a healing Carol. She's not whole yet, but she's stronger and she is healing. She's no longer hiding in some fantasy, she's no longer drowning in grief. And she's with her family again. She's come home.

I'm sure just as Kang looked at Carol, she also looked at Daryl and saw how Gimple had turned him into a monosyllablic follower. So, through the last two seasons, she's been building him up as the leader who's stepping up and also... HE SPEAKS! That's really the big thing, but it's such, such a big thing.

Finally, Caryl. To begin with, Kang's first episode made it perfectly obvious that it was a Zeke/Carol/Daryl triangle. However, because it's been sooooooooooooo long and the Caryl crowd has been battered for so long and the ABC crowd is so loud and even the media doesn't immediately jump to it despite the popularity of Caryl the obviousness of it just wasn't obvious. But the way Zeke proposed to Carol to which she did not say yes, his undying declaration of love to which she did not respond in kind to the way she curled up (yes, curled up!) against Daryl to tell him about said proposal and his response, clearly not happy about it, but willing to give her the go-ahead if she was happy was so obvious. I mean, DUDE! Yeah, that was textbook triangle material with the guy proposing being the clear loser in the equation in the long run. And that was Angela Kang's first episode as showrunner!

Everything that followed--the secret visits to him, her cutting his hair, her trust in him and vice-versa--to her leaving Zeke behind in Hilltop and going with Daryl to Alexandria, yeah, all of that was clearly going to be how that "triangle" ended based on that first episode.  But so many Caryl fans were heartbroken, upset, furious about the Carol/Zeke spoilers. Of course, they were. We had no idea what Kang had in store. We'd been burned and battered and used and ignored by TWD, AMC, Gimple, et al. How could we possibly know that Kang had a plan all along and that the Carol/Zeke relationship was about paying time and attention to Carol's character and establishing a subtle triangle with Daryl in which he would emerge the victor?

But that's exactly what Angela Kang did. And then in season 10 she made it clear numerous times that it--only her second as showrunner--would feature the relationship of Carol and Daryl at the heart of it. So I have a few points I want to make regarding the upcoming spoilers taking ALL of the above that I've written into account:

1. Spoilers are tricky things. You simply can not know what is what until you actually watch the episode and even see the full arc play out. When you have a good showrunner/headwriter who has a plan and knows the path planned for the characters--one who has proven they know what they're doing--wait until you see what they are actually doing before assuming the roof is falling in. At least that's my philosophy.

2. I mentioned how the obviousness of the triangle aspect set-up in Kang's first episode as showrunner was so missed and a part of that is because of the fact that there is too much ambiguity in how Caryl and Daryl see one another. Is it friendship? Is it a mother/son (pfft! So fucking ridiculous!) relationship? Is it a sibling-like relationship? Or is it romantic/sexual? (YES, IT IS!) This very well may be what answers that question. (It’s the last one. It’s definitely the last one.)

3. 10x18 is STILL a part of season 10. According to Angela Kang, the heart of season 10 is the relationship of Carol and Daryl.

Finally, there are two characters left from the first season of this ten (of eleven) season show. Carol and Daryl. There is going to be a spin-off featuring Carol and Daryl. A character that Daryl has some sort of history with when he thought he lost Carol when she was married to someone else (after he had lost Rick) is NOT going to suddenly, randomly become the ONE to come between Carol and Daryl.

It doesn’t matter that this character is coming back in the final season. Sorry, not sorry, but it just does not. Carol and Daryl are the ONE for each other. This character is just another Ezekiel, a part of their story. Angela Kang has been organically, effortlessly rebuilding Carol and Daryl, and Caryl back up from the neglect and abuse that they suffered (especially Carol and Caryl) under Scott Gimple.

This is why I trust in Angela Kang.

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

Merlin & Arthur’s friendship: clichés versus reality (Part II)

Following on from Merlin & Arthur’s friendship: clichés versus reality Part I, here is part II. 

CLAIM #3: Arthur *constantly* denied that Merlin was his friend

This claim assumes that Arthur was 1)- serious when he did deny being friends with Merlin and 2)- unwilling to change that viewpoint.

Arthur had no need to either deny or admit to being friends with Merlin. Even when he said in episode 2x13 that, “I know I’m a Prince, so we can’t be friends,” the implication is that he does want to be friends. After all, he was insisting that Merlin confide in him. This pattern would repeat in many episodes to come. 

Bear in mind that Arthur has described other people as friends, too. This includes people we never saw onscreen. A clear example comes from episode 5x05, when Arthur was so moved with grief by Sir Ranulf’s death that he personally led a collection of knights to bring the sorcerer Osgar to justice. He explained to Gwen that “...he was a friend. We knew each other as boys.”

So why would Arthur have trouble admitting that Merlin was his friend? The viewpoint that being more arrogant and prejudiced in the earlier seasons, Arthur would not admit to friendship with a servant, does not hold as much water as some think. As early as episode 2x05, Arthur called Merlin a “true friend”, because he (mistakenly) thought that Merlin was criticising Lady Catrina on his behalf. 

Admittedly, the best examples of Arthur accepting Merlin as a friend come from Seasons 4 and 5. 

In episode 4x01, Merlin said, “I always thought that if things hadn’t been different, we’d have been good friends.” Arthur’s response? “Yeah.” During the crucial episode 4x03, Merlin sat outside the throne room all right, facing a crossroads between the end of his dreams and remaining loyal to the king. Of course, Arthur had no idea about this, but he appreciated the gesture. “You are a loyal friend, Merlin.” In episode 4x05, Arthur called Merlin “old friend”, which is self-explanatory. 

It’s also worth noting that even after claiming in episode 4x05 that he didn’t need friends, when Merlin later said, “I’m your friend!”, Arthur did not disagree. 

Now, I could cite the example of episode 4x07, where Arthur said to Merlin, “I’ve had my heart broken once today. I don’t want to lose another friend.” Self-explanatory. But was this proof of their friendship? No. Arthur was essentially threatening to end his friendship with Merlin if the latter continued criticising Agravaine. Later, in episode 4x11, Arthur again threatened to banish Merlin for the second time (thus ending their friendship) if he accused Agravaine of treason again. This once again shows how Arthur associated loyalty with family first. 

One of the best examples comes from episode 4x13: “I came back because you’re the only friend I have, and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Is Merlin Arthur’s only friend? No. However, out of all Arthur’s friends, Merlin was his best friend, and losing almost everyone and everything else made him realise that yet again. 

Then we have all the actions which prove Arthur considered Merlin as a friend. 

For example relied on Merlin’s opinion, as Princess Mithian rightly observed in episode 4x11. “One thing I’ve learned since being here is that Arthur values your opinion above almost all others.” 

He complained about Merlin’s periods of silence and broodiness, like in episode 3x05: “Come on: I’m missing your usual prattle!” In episode 3x09, after noting that Merlin was upset, he said, “For goodness’ sake, what is your problem?”

Another example comes from episode 5x01, where Arthur noted Merlin sitting outside the camp and took the time to find out why he was “so upset”. 

The example from episode 5x05 is self-explanatory: “Seriously, I haven’t seen you smile these past three days.” Arthur relies on Merlin’s cheerfulness to remain optimistic, because he faces the constant threat of death. Notice that shortly after Merlin’s sombre mood, Arthur stopped dismissing Osgar’s warnings about The Disir.

As if this were not enough, look at Arthur spending downtime with Merlin. A great example comes from episode 3x04, where Arthur decides on “a nice, cold tankard of mead” after hunting. In episode 3x13, both were sitting on the courtyard steps discussing the future of the kingdom. Even despite his strenuous denials and ingratitude in episode 4x05, you can see Arthur gesture for Merlin to sit down the morning after they captured Caerleon.

What about all the hunting trips? Arthur knows that Merlin hates hunting (in fact, he takes pleasure in this fact), yet still brought him along, as episodes 1x13, 3x04, 4x11, 5x03, and 5x11 show. 

By far my favourite example comes from episode 5x12, when Arthur and Merlin were playing dice at the tavern. (I don’t know iwhat this game was called.) In my view, this happened regularly. Why else would the common people watch and laugh while Merlin poked fun at their king? (Percival’s face was classic.) And why was Arthur playing against Merlin? When did Merlin learn how to play dice? Who taught him? When? 

Obviously, I do not know, but it’s worth asking. 

Despite being speechless after Merlin “won” the game, Arthur let Merlin “win” all of his money. (Clearly, Arthur was the better player: “Feel free to retire at any time.” The king only used theatrics to get the right dice roll, while Merlin cheated with magic each time. If Merlin hadn’t “coughed”, then Arthur would have rolled correctly a second time. Hence why Arthur said beforehand, “Enjoy this moment, Merlin… while it lasts.”) 

Look at Arthur, who was dressed in a plain shirt, rather than his armour and cloak. When we put this scene in conjunction with episode 3x04, where Arthur again wore plain clothes, we can see that he enjoyed these moments of normality. “There’s no better place to measure the mood of your people than the local tavern… I’m just a simple peasant like everybody else.”

So where is this strenuous denial? Nowhere. Arthur never constantly denied that Merlin was his friend. Nor did he only admit this in secret, otherwise the great dice scene in episode 5x12 would never have happened. Sure, the people might have been astonished to see their great king playing against a servant, but they must also have known that if Arthur allowed himself to be “beaten” at a game by his servant, the latter must be his friend. 

CLAIM #4: Merlin was usually/always (in the) right

Wrong. Being right most of the time does not mean being right all of the time. Merlin failed to realise this, and consequently made grievous errors throughout the series. The most grievous errors came when he tried to fight against death. Episode 3x05 shows this; all of the grief and pain suffered by Arthur, Gwen, and Uther stemmed from Merlin mortally injuring Morgana in a bid to prevent her from killing the king. 

He effectively ignored the warning to “use what you see for good.” 

Then we have the example to end all examples; Merlin’s recklessness, presumptuousness, bold-faced hypocrisy, coldness, prejudice, and most of all, jealousy towards Sir Mordred. 

Even as early as episode 1x08, Merlin almost let the boy Mordred die on account of a prophecy. At least back then he questioned it before hiding in bed like a coward. Mordred also blamed Merlin for Uther’s carnage in episode 2x11, though in the case of that episode and episode 2x03, I think Merlin’s actions were no worse than presumptuous. 

It gets far worse in episode 5x02, when Merlin yelled, “You should have killed him!”, to which Arthur rightly said, “What is wrong with you?” Mordred saw that he could not jump across the gorge, so he surrendered and walked away. (He probably knew that Arthur would arrive in Ismere soon, as his later conversation with Morgana demonstrates.) 

Later on, Arthur gave Merlin another strange look after Merlin said, “I told you, you should have killed him when you had the chance.” How could someone usually so compassionate insist on executing a man who stopped threatening them?

Remember how Merlin reacted to Arthur killing Caerleon in episode 4x05, despite having plenty of evidence that Caerleon was a threat to Arthur’s life?

By the way, episodes 5x01 and 5x02 are my favourite examples of Merlin being horrendously wrong. Other episodes include 5x05, and the crucial errors he made in episode 5x11. (I watched most of episode 5x11 last Sunday, and I was floored. It shook me more than 5x12 and 5x13, which I had also been avoiding for years.) 

Going back to episodes 5x01 and 5x02 (because episode 5x11 is too depressing): if Arthur had listened to Merlin’s “advice”, he would have abandoned his knights to a slow death in slavery. He would also have committed murder, simply on Merlin’s say-so. If you kill someone who is defenceless and has surrendered, that is murder-- regardless of whether, like Merlin, you are desperately scared of a prophecy and speaking without thinking. 

Also, if Arthur had rushed back to Camelot on Merlin’s say-so, he might well have been assassinated by Ruadan. 

Most of all, almost everything that Merlin “advised” violated Arthur’s core beliefs-- the very beliefs that made Merlin respect Arthur in the first place. It’s astonishing that Arthur had to explain no less than five times that he would never abandon any of his men, otherwise he would be abandoning his own values and the values that built Camelot. 

So desperate is Merlin to fight against death that he either quietly ignores this advice, or claims he agrees, only to try dissuading Arthur later on. 

Just to be clear: I perfectly understand that beneath all Merlin’s horrible advice and prevarication, he does not want to lose his friend. 

However, just watch Merlin’s marvellous inconsistency throughout episode 5x01. First, he plays Devil’s Advocate by asking Arthur, “Do you really think Gwaine and Percival could still be alive?” Arthur says he has to find out, because they are knights of Camelot. Merlin says, “I understand.” Of course he did. 

Bear in mind that this happened before Merlin learned of the prophecy. Some have therefore asked what made Merlin unwilling to look for the missing knights, who were his friends. 

In Annis’ castle, Merlin said, “I’m not sure we should go to Ismere.” On the other hand, Arthur, acting on reliable information that Morgana had rounded up slaves, took this as a sign that his mission was right. Merlin tried arguing, then gave up. One might assume that after two rational explanations, Merlin would see reason, particularly since even Kilgharrah could not confirm that the fated battle would take place. 

But no. After the knights left Annis’ lands, Merlin complained again that Morgana was “powerful… dangerous.” So, Arthur explained yet again that “no matter what lies ahead of me, I won’t abandon them.” Merlin respected this answer, because he said, “I understand. I wish I didn’t-- but I do.” (Why does he wish he did not understand why Arthur would risk his life for all of his soldiers?) 

But the very next day, after the ambush, Merlin turned to rage: “The two of us against Morgana, are you mad?” He tried stopping Arthur from going any further. So Arthur explained himself again. Consequently, Merlin continued following Arthur. 

The very same night, he once again insisted that, “We have to turn back.” Arthur explained himself yet again, and Merlin promised to “protect you or die at your side.”

Which one is it? Not to mention that in episode 5x02, instead of apologising for his carelessness, Merlin said, “And I told you to go back to Camelot.” This is silly, given that Arthur had already refused to return on numerous occasions until he had rescued his men, assuming they were still alive. 

The most hilarious example comes later, when Merlin says, “We can’t let them hand us over to Morgana: we need to get out of here, we need a plan.” But when Arthur comes up with that plan, what does Merlin say? “You’ve got to be joking!”, “You should have killed him!”, “Next time, we might not be so lucky.”, “We’ll never make it in there.”, and “How did you talk me into this?” 

Again, which one is it?

I know why Merlin behaved this way, of course. However, there’s a difference between the noble goal of protecting your friend, and ignoring everything and everyone else in order to reach that goal-- particularly through controlling means. Throughout the series, Merlin’s biggest fault comes from his controlling tendencies, which always backfire. And he never learns.  

In this way, Merlin shackled Arthur with unrealistic expectations about a Golden Age based on prophecies that he could not verify. Somehow, this Golden Age had now become evading Arthur’s death. He wanted Arthur to share that belief. Worse, even while his motives came from a noble goal, he treated other people as expendable. 

Another example of Merlin’s absurd reasoning comes from the fateful episode 5x05. Putting aside the fact that Merlin tried claming that sentencing Mordred to die was an acceptable price to pay “for Camelot”, he also previously claimed that, “I do care. About who you are, Arthur. Who you are destined to become.” 

This makes zero sense, given that Arthur had already taken the throne and “brought peace to the kingdom” (episode 5x03). What more did he have to achieve? It depends on who you ask: bringing back magic, uniting the five kingdoms, eternal peace, avoiding the prophecy about Mordred, bowing to the Triple Goddess, being the greatest king this land has ever known… 

Can you see how unrealistic this is? Moreover, can you see how Merlin used Arthur as a vehicle of his own unrealistic ambitions? This is why the Golden Age never happened: it was a myth. It allowed the Druids, Gaius, Kilgharrah, etc. to live vicariously through the new king. 

Bringing back magic was impossible while Morgana continued using it for great evil. (And the Triple Goddess, who complained about Arthur persecuting sorcery, allowed Morgana to continue that evil conduct.)

Arthur did take considerable steps to uniting the kingdoms, particularly when he signed a treaty with King Odin in episode 5x04. But eternal peace? Impossible, otherwise episodes 5x01 and 5x02 would not have happened. 

The unbiquitous prophecy about Mordred was never backed by evidence, leaving Merlin in a state of constant paranoia, and causing him to make horrible errors. This despite the fact that, by his own admission, “I like him [Mordred] myself.” [1]

Bowing to the Triple Goddess was nothing but blackmail using Mordred’s life as a bargaining chip. This once again shows how many sorcerers had caused chaos and misery. Remember, this same Triple Goddess used torture techniques such as controlling people’s minds using the Fomorroh, as Morgana explained in episode 4x06. 

While I believe that the persecution of peaceful sorcerers was wrong, Arthur had no quarrel with the Druids (episode 5x11), and he still had good reason for banning sorcery (also explained in episode 5x11). Nobody, not even Merlin, gave him a reason to change his mind. Kara definitely did not, for she wasn’t executed for being a Druid: she was executed for murder and attempted murder. 

As for being the greatest king this land had ever known… Well, Arthur appreciated that statement in episode 4x12. However, when Merlin spoke of the greatest kingdom in the world in episode 4x13, Arthur said, “You’re making this up.”

In episode 5x01, Merlin claimed that, “Arthur, without you, Camelot is nothing.” Arthur disagreed, saying that abandoning his men was worse than surviving Morgana. Even in episode 5x04, Arthur accepted his death. “So be it. But understand this, Odin: you kill me, and you’ll have all of Camelot to answer to.” Odin was astonished that a king could have such confidence in the face of death. 

The most important example comes from episode 5x13. Merlin said the same thing about Camelot being nothing without Arthur, to which the dying king said, “There was a time when that was true. Not now. There are many who can fill the crown.” And of course, he gave the royal seal to Gwen. Can anyone argue with this? 

I guess you could say that Arthur didn’t believe his own hype.

Indeed, Arthur felt satisfied about what he had achieved in his life. “Everything you’ve done, I know now. For me, for Camelot. For the kingdom you helped me build.” (Episode 5x13). That was it. Arthur knew that he had changed Camelot for the better, that Merlin killing his half-sister had brought “peace at last”, and that he owed Merlin an unpayable debt for helping him to achieve all of these goals. 

Why did Arthur accept the certainty of his death for so long? Because he believed his cause was right, and his death would help save the lives of thousands in Camelot. Dying in service to Camelot was his real destiny. It was inevitable, and to him, it was the most honourable act he would ever undertake. 

You cannot know how great you will be until you die. “That’s the way things work, I’m afraid. You get the glory when you’re not around to appreciate it.” (Episode 4x06). At that point, you will never see your legacy. Merlin either did not know that, or he did not want to know it. 

Arthur’s death ultimately serves as the greatest evidence that Merlin was wrong the whole time.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART III

FOOTNOTES

[1]  I don’t doubt that Merlin liked Mordred. In fact, the scene in episode 5x05, where Merlin buried Osgar, shows how difficult it was for him to maintain his mistrust when the druid was so polite and perceptive. So why the contradiction? Why claim you like someone, yet insist that they would commit regicide? The answer is that Merlin used the prophecy as an excuse. In fact, his prejudice against Mordred had more to do with jealousy than the prophecy. After being involved in an attempt to trade Arthur and Merlin as slaves to Morgana, Arthur knighted the druid for one noble act. Did Merlin aspire to be a knight? I don’t know. He definitely wanted that same level of trust and respect given to Mordred, though, and knighthood created a bond that a servant could not have.

[tanoraqui]

Hi! I see you posting all this stuff about the Queen's Thief series and it really looks like my type of literature, but I can't keep up with all the names and locations. Would it be okay to ask for a non-spoilery rundown of who, what, and where?

Hell yeah [at a delay]. So, most of the series takes place on the Attolian Peninsula, which comprises of 3 countries: Sounis, Eddis, and Attolia. There are also a scattering of small islands generally associated with the peninsula. Eddis is a narrow country in the mountains between Sounis and Attolia and only has, like, 1 small port; Sounis and Attolia both have substantial coastlines. All are monarchies. The basic geopolitical plot of the books is these three countries making peace with one another so that together they can hold off hte encroaching Mede Empire. 

It’s very low fantasy. Rifles and cannons exist, but they’re not that good yet; complex clockwork exists; steam engines do not. The Attolian Peninsua are heavily Ancient Greece-inspired, and the Mede are Persian-ish. Most importantly, there’s an entire made-up Greek-flavored mythology, as well as a Gilgamesh remix, stories of which are scattered through the books. Not only is this very neat, but the mythological figures often mirror the characters and are often vital to the plot. In fact, one of my favorite things about the series is how the whole thing feels very much like a myth in its own right, which some modern-day-in-that-world author has delved into and expanded on with fleshed-out characters and complex politics.

But you wanted a cast list. Most significant characters, in (probably) order of introduction, spoiler-free:

Eugenides, aka Gen, the central character of the series - though only the protagonist for the first couple books. Book and a half, really (the second is shared). Gen is a young progessional thief who is very good at calculating and carrying out complex and implausibly possible plans, and not always good at considering in advance consequences like “I will spend 6 months in jail” “I will have to move countries and take up a job I will hate”, “people might unironically admire and respect me, even though I don’t think I deserve it.” A wildly endearing manipulative asshole. Iconic quote: “I CAN DO ANYTHING I WANT!”

the Magus (never named), a chief advisor to the King of Sounis. Canny old soldier-turned-scholar/politician who is the first person to hold a braincell re: “we need to unite or die.” Iconic quote: “I meant convince your queen to sue for peace, not burn our navy in its own harbor!”

Sophos, later Sounis*, the Nicest Young Man to ever be a Nice Young Man. Sweet muffin. Canonical bunny. Also canonical mankiller. Iconic line: “Not on the first vote.”

Attolia* Irene, Queen of Attolia. Her people love her and fear her; her barons, for the most part, just fear her; she kicks and screams (non-literally) and throws inkpots (literally), but she does relearn how to both be loved and give love in return.  Iconic line [narration]: And she believed him.

Eddis* Helen, Queen of Eddis. There’s a mild running joke over the course of the series of mentioning that there’s nothing to do during Eddisian winters but [X], the 3 things mentioned are weapons training, threadcraft, and seducing one another’s spouses. The only one Eddis is suggested to be good at is weapons, but she’s the beloved and (almost entirely) undisputed queen of her country anyway. Iconic quote: “War, then.”

Nahuseresh, Medean ambassador, a mansplainer but competent as sneakily taking over someone else’s country while pretending to help them. More or less. Does not get an iconic line bc fuck him.

Kamet, later called Kamet Kingnamer, Nahuseresh’s slave and personal secretary. Nearsighted, translates poetry for fun, does NOT want to go on a multi-month (b)romance-building roadtrip. Does not have much choice in the matter, because he wants to be free and, more importantly, to survive. Iconic line [narration]: I noticed that a man on the dock with a duffel on one shoulder was very like Costis in poise and gait. The man turned onto the gangplank to board the ship, and my heart lifted, though I tried to squash what I thought was a ridiculous hope.**

 Costis Ormentides, a lieutenant in the Attolian palace guard. Not remotely prepared for the political snakepit he’s thrown into through very little fault of his own, oh god this poor man, he just wants to serve his queen and have a little spare money to go out for wine with friends. Why are people trying to kill him. Why is he third wheeling his monarchs making out in the courtyard. Why is he being passive-aggressively forced to learn a foreign language.  Iconic line action: *punches the king in the face*

Pheris Mostrus Erondites, second grandson of Baron Erondites of Attolia; historian and narrator of the last book in the series. Severely physically disabled, purposefully overlooked for all his life until particularly bitchy politics had him sent to the Attolian royal court (purposely on his part and on everyone else’s), very observant and twice as clever. Writes humanity beautifully. Iconic line [narration]: If I cannot record exactly what words were spoken at every moment, I can say with confidence what those words might have been, and in some cases what they must as been, as I saw what resulted from them being spoken, and can we not derive the words when we know the consequences of their utterance? *proceeds to write a historical account/novel more full of small moments of personhood and love both dramatic and casual than almost the rest of the series combined*

Relius, Attolian Master of the Archives (spymaster), trusted first within reason and then beyond it. Has many, many lovers.***

Teleus, Attolian Captain of the Palace Guard, A bit staid, but loyal, reliable, and entirely excellent at his job. Has only one lover.***

the Eddisian Minister of War, unnamed until the very end, fights with his youngest son a great deal in multiple senses of the word. 

* It’s possible that some of your confusion may stem from people taking the names of their countries as titles upon ascending to the thrones. ** Yes I chose this quote bc it’s sweet but also bc it’s SUCH a nearsighted mood. *** Direct quotes from the character list at the end of the last book.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 17: The Resolution

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,424

Chapter Summary: Now that the truth is out, Teki and Loki navigate their way through the aftermath.

A/N: I can’t believe we’re on the second to last chapter! It blows my mind that this has gone by so quickly-- I feel like I just started posting a few weeks ago. Also, sorry this is going up about an hour later than usual-- my classes got cancelled today, so I decided to sleep in XD

Thanks for reading!

TW: Violence, child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy @whatafuckingdumbass @sophlubbwriting

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Teki stood in the center of the Throne Room, struggling not to wilt under the scrutiny of over a dozen pairs of eyes. She had always known that someday in the future she’d have to attend the King’s council meetings, but never had she thought that she would ever be the focus. The old men of Odin’s courtroom seemed to glower down at her like she was an insect they had accidentally stepped on as they bickered over what was to be done with her. Luckily, the friendly faces in the crowd were almost enough to drown out the tension.

Loki smiled encouragingly from his place at the base of Odin’s throne, rolling his eyes whenever someone said something particularly hurtful. Frigga too supported her with a warm grin. Even Thor seemed to shoot her a sympathetic glance every now and then.

Still, the council continued arguing.

“The marriage engagement is in writing. We cannot change it—”

“That writing is in blood. Would we have the daughter of a murderer as Queen?”

“We should not hold the girl accountable for the sins of her mother—”

“But what of Asgard’s reputation? What will other realms think when they learn how easy it is to cheat their way into royalty—”

“The circumstances are irrelevant. The agreement was made. To go back on it now would be to sully the word of the king—”

The last few days had been a whirlwind. Teki felt as if she had repeated the same story over and over again at least a thousand times, to a thousand different people. At first, there had been the scramble for evidence, gathering anything and everything that might be used to prove her word—the vials from her mother’s liquor cabinet, the document of dissolution that her father had been forced to write moments before his death, written statements from Völundr and Asta (the real one this time). They had even taken her father’s journal, although that had been returned to her after they decided that the unfinished letter he had written to her mother was all they needed.

But once Áslaug signed a full confession, the focus shifted. Now that she was good and caught, everyone could concentrate on capturing Osvald. He had been gone when Frigga’s guards arrived at their apartment to arrest him and hadn’t been seen since. It seemed he had caught wind that the game was up and made a run for it, a thought which terrified Teki to no end.

“Don’t worry,” Loki assured her one night, in the new rooms in the royal wing that she and Brant now occupied. “They’ll catch him before long.”

Teki only nodded as she stared out into the inky blackness beyond her window, praying to the Norns he was right.

There were also the questions popping up now, everywhere she turned. Was she still engaged to Thor? Did the marriage agreement stand if it was made under false pretenses? No one seemed to know.

Some felt that since Steinn had opposed it, and since Áslaug very clearly did not have Teki’s best interests in mind when she agreed to it, that it should not be allowed to stand. Others were quite adamant that the agreement had been signed and that it must be followed through, for better or for worse.

Of course, nobody had asked Teki what she thought should happen.

Well... that wasn't entirely true. Queen Frigga had approached her the day after her mother was arrested to talk about the whole situation, and while she didn't ask for her opinion either, the topic of her engagement had come up.

"The AllFather is not one to go back on his word," she told her. "I doubt the betrothal will be drastically changed."

Her tone was encouraging, but Teki couldn't bring herself to mirror her optimistic smile. Of course she'd still have to marry Thor. The actions of her mother would have no bearing on something that had been set in stone for nearly her entire life. She knew this. Still, a part of her, the small, hopeful part that had dared to dream of someone else in place of Thor's hand, withered at the return to reality.

The ache in her chest must have been reflected on her face because Frigga frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Teki shook her head, forcing her features back to familiar neutrality. "Of course not, Your Majesty," she said with the same artificial cheeriness. "As always, I will be honored to wed your son."

For a moment, the Queen only studied her, as if searching for something hidden behind her eyes. "Yes," she finally said, voice distant. "My son."

It didn’t even matter anymore. They’d all been going round and round in circles for what seemed like an eternity, and Teki was tired of standing there bearing the brunt of their speculation. She wished they would just sentence her to life with Thor and just end it already. It took everything in her to keep from picking at the sash of her dress in front of everyone.

But then Frigga stood, and the voices fell silent. “If I may, my King?”

Odin nodded at his wife, and Teki couldn’t help but think that he looked as exhausted with this as she was. “Please.”

She stepped forward, addressing the council directly. “If I am correct in understanding, the conflict here surrounds the question of whether Lady Tekla is suited to be Queen in light of what we now know of her mother and stepfather, yes?” A chorus of affirmative hums answered her.

The Queen smiled broadly. “Well, I believe there is a way to honor the agreement without jeopardizing the queenship.” She turned back to Odin with a respectful bow of her head. “My King, you have two sons. If Lady Tekla were to marry Prince Loki instead of Prince Thor, she’d still gain royalty, but not the throne.”

A flurry of whispers broke out across the Throne Room. For a moment, Teki thought she had misheard her. Wait, did she mean…

She whipped to Loki, who was staring at his mother with eyes were so wide they were almost bugging out of his head. When his gaze returned to Teki’s, there was a stunned sort of hope in his smile.

The King cocked his head to the side, seemingly lost in thought. He turned to his son. “Would you be willing to pursue such a course of action, Loki?” he asked.

The prince sprang up. “Yes, I would, my King. That is —” he looked back at Teki nervously. “If Lady Tekla was willing.”

The collective stare of the council flipped back once more to her.

Teki inhaled. “I—I’m willing, sire.”

“Very well.” The King motioned towards Loki, who stepped purposefully off the platform and down to her side. “Prince Loki, you will take the hand of Lady Tekla in marriage. Prince Thor, you are released from your betrothal.” He sighed. “Perhaps now we can finally lay this matter to rest.”

Teki didn’t hear the rest of what he said. Loki lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckle.

“My lady,” he whispered with a breathless smile. She beamed, heart soaring higher than any wings could ever carry her.

…

Going back to their apartment was strange.

It had been decided that Teki and Brant would permanently move into the royal wing of the palace, sharing a suite until Teki married and moved into Loki’s rooms (although Frigga assured her that wouldn’t be for quite some time). Their old apartment was gutted of all items of importance to be transferred to their new rooms, leaving only its skeletal remains when Teki and Loki returned for one last look through.

There were several things Teki wanted to be sure to get. Brant’s reading notes, for one, and his unfinished map of the tunnels of the Nine Realms. She wouldn’t be giving him reading lessons anymore—he had already begun to attend proper class and was doing quite well—but he had confided in her that he still preferred her lessons. The music books gifted to her by the Queen—she was particularly excited about those, because Frigga had ordered a piano constructed just for Teki’s new sitting room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t ask you first,” she had said, almost apologetically. “I just you’d enjoy being able to play at your own discretion, without having to rely on me.”

Teki could’ve cried.

And then there was a dagger. Teki nearly had a heart attack when she checked under her mattress and found it wasn’t there, only to remember that she had shoved it in her nightstand that time her mother walked into the room.

Loki grinned when she slid it out of its sheath.

“I had wondered what you did with that,” he said. “I never saw it when I would come over.”

She laughed. “Well, I couldn’t exactly hang it from the wall.” Now that she thought of it though, it was probably a blessing that she had been forced to move the dagger to her drawer. As furious as her stepfather had been upon discovering she had taken her father’s journal, it would’ve been infinitely worse if he had realized she was also keeping a weapon under her mattress. The image of Osvald advancing towards her flashed before her eyes, this time waving a blade instead of a leather book. Teki shivered. She sheathed the dagger, placing it in the box with her other items.

They combed the apartment one last time, a cursory look-through to make sure that Teki had gotten everything she wanted to save. There really wasn’t much. It was a bit startling—this place had been her home her entire life, and yet she felt practically nothing upon saying goodbye to it forever. If anything, it was relieving, like coming to the surface to breathe after being underwater for far too long. She was ready to leave this bad dream behind.

Teki only hesitated at the downstairs table, staring at the same chair in which her father died. Loki came besides her, squeezing her hand in comfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. It’s just…” She struggled to find the right words. “I ate here every single day,” she said finally. “My whole life. And I never knew what happened right next to me.” Had her father been watching in frustration from the realm beyond? Had he been begging her to ask questions, to look for him, to discover the truth as she munched on her morning toast?

Tears were pooling in her eyes once more. Teki swallowed shakily. “I should’ve done something sooner,” she whispered. “I never did anything. I just let it all happen.”

“You were a child,” Loki said softly. “What could you have done? You’ve brought justice for your father, and for you. That’s all that matters now.”

She sighed. Maybe he was right. What she did or didn’t do in the past wasn’t important. Now, her father could rest easy knowing his killer would rot in prison, her plans in tatters.

Teki hoisted her box up with one last glance about the room. “I think I’ve got everything,” she said as she headed towards the door. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“It was my pleasure,” he smiled, rushing to hold the door for her. “It seems that—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

Osvald barged his way through the doorway like a living battering ram, smacking the prince into the wooden door. Her stepfather didn’t even spare a second glance as Loki crashed to the floor. Teki barely had the chance to scream before his fist caught her in her sternum. The box flew from her hands, contents clattering across the floorboards as she fell backwards.

No sooner had her head hit the ground than Osvald was on top of her, eyes as frenzied as wildfire.

“You thought I’d let it go?” he snarled, holding her down by her shoulders with his forearm as she struggled. “You thought I’d let you fuck everything up?”

She almost didn’t see the glint of the blade in his free hand.

Norns!

Teki jerked just as the knife came down, cold metal grazing her cheek as he buried it into the floor beside her head. She grabbed for the hilt as her stepfather spat curses in her face.

Get it away from him!

He smacked her away, ripping the knife from the floorboards and stabbing towards her again. Teki braced her arms against his wrist, pushing against him with all her might, her eyes tearing up. Come on, please! Still, the tip of the blade inched forward, closer and closer and closer…

Something crashed into the two of them. One moment, her stepfather was on top of her, pinning her to the ground, the next he was on the floor next to her, thrashing wildly as Loki fought to rip the blade from his grasp. Teki rolled to her stomach, trembling as she gasped for air.

“Get help!” Loki yelled at her as the two wrestled on the ground. Osvald landed a kick to his stomach, and he hissed in pain.

Teki struggled to her feet and tried to make a run for the door. Her foot slipped on one of the papers strewn about from the box and she tripped, slamming against the floor.

Behind her, Osvald’s knife clattered to the ground. Still, they struggled.

Her legs were shaking too badly to stand. Teki crawled towards the door across the mess, unable to hear anything else over the pounding of her heart.

Without meaning to, her hand closed around the hilt of her own dagger.

Loki cried out, a short, quick gasp of pain.  Her stepfather’s footsteps vibrated deep in her stomach as he approached.

He yanked her to her feet by her collar and whipped her around, his fingers at her throat, grin wide and demented.

“Now—”

Teki buried the blade in his chest.

For a moment they just stared at it, gasping, the golden hilt crowning the fast-growing stain of crimson across his chest. He glanced up at her, icy eyes having lost their chill. Teki gaped back at him, frozen.

On the other side of the room, Loki pulled himself to his feet, eyes wide.

Her stepfather collapsed, a marionette with its strings cut, his blood splattering across the same floor he had so often beaten her against.

[whatshername-please]

Out of the Water - Chapter VI

Synopsis: You were very proud to be a mermaid, thank you very much. You didn't want to be where the people were. Actually, you'd rather avoid it. Defending the merfolk was the biggest goal in your life... well, it was until you meet a certain pirate... it seems that your family really had a thing for humans, after all. Not that you'd ever admit it...

Word Account: 4875

Part 6 of ?

Pairing: Harry x reader (he is not in this chapter, sorry)

 Warnings: Some cuss words and underage drinking. 

A/N: English isn't my first language, so I'll probably mess up some tenses, grammar and stuff. Go easy on me, please. Feedback is always appreciated

Masterlist here

                                                      ---------

"I'm never, ever setting foot on shore again, grandpa will have to find another diplomat because I quit!" you announced very eloquently to the only merman in the room: your brother who, on the other hand, was trying to make you help him with his summer homework.

"Yeah sure, it's not like you say this every time you come back from Auradon or anything" he didn't even bother looking up from his essay "Who won the battle of the Irish Sea?"

"But this time is true, they made it personal" you grumbled, swimming back and forth impatiently.

"They always do..." he said absently, knowing very well it was pointless to try to reason with you when you were having an outburst "Was it the Kappas?"

Ok, no matter how pissed you were, you could not have your own brother messing up the Water Kingdom's History like this, so you sat by his side and took the paper from his hand.

"Let me see this" you corrected him, perusing through the essay he wrote "Not the Kappas. The selkies won after the kelpies joined their side."

"I know you're sad..." Nereus said after a while, eyes filled with concern.

You sighed and put the essay down.

"I'm not..." you began, but he interrupted you before you could come up with some excuse.

People believing that you were angry and cranky was one thing, but Neptune forbid anyone to know you've got a heart.

"Yes, you are! It's been almost a week since you went to Auradon and I've never seen you so off. Yesterday Aethra said she couldn't wait until she was old enough to go to the surface and you didn't even roll your eyes. Last year, when Ogen spoke the same thing, you made a complete speech of why life under the sea is much better than anything humans have to offer, you had slides and everything."

He squeezed your hand gently and offered you a supportive smile.

"Even Aqua noticed how quiet you are… Please don't tell her I'm telling you this, but she said she prefers you ranting to this silence."

"I doubt" you let out a breathy chuckle.

The presence of your brother was comforting so you allowed yourself to let your guard down and lay on his lap while he stroked your hair. Both of you stayed a while like this, each one absorbed in your own thoughts. Yes, it had been almost a week since everything had happened and you still had nightmares about that; the look on Harry's face when he said Ben was just going to throw them all back inside the Isle would hunt you forever.

Truth be told, you swam next to the barrier a couple of times, but the only things you saw were seaweed, rocks, some weird looking fish and a dead goblin. It wasn't like you could ask someone to tell Uma you'd be expecting her and, even If you could see her, what would you do? People inside the barrier could not hear anything from the outside, and again, even if they could, what would you tell her? How sorry you were? That it wasn't fair? Uma didn't need anyone saying what she has known all her life.

You were torturing yourself, feeling your stomach turn on itself with guilty when your grandfather glided into the room. Both of you and your brother stood up, showing respect to the king of the seas.

"May I talk to you for a moment, my dear" he pointed to you and your brother took his belongings and left the room, he whispered a "good luck" as he passed by you and swam off.

"Yes, grandpa?" your chest filled up with hope that your grandfather had spoken to Ben and made him change his mind about the Isle.

However, it was only wishful thinking because the reality was way crueler than whatever you could have imagined.

"About tomorrow…" he started.

Oh no! Ben and Mal's engagement party was tomorrow, but you had already decided you weren't going, no matter how hard your grandfather or anyone tried to convince you to.

You couldn't stand the idea of having to smile to them while all you wanted to do was to scream and cry. How could you pretend that everything was okay when nothing was? The hypocrisy made you sick.

"I won't go" you told him, you even tried to use your 'heiress of the throne' tone, but of course the current king of Atlantica wouldn't fall for that.

"You're the diplomat between the human kingdom and the water kingdom" he reminded you, his expression turning as serious as his voice.

"Was" you corrected him "I quit".

That little voice inside your head was telling to stop defying your grandfather. He could be very understanding of some things (like you still didn't believe he knew about Uma all the time and didn't lose it), but he also had plans for you that required you to be Atlantica's representative, because, accordingly to your grandfather and mother, no one would defend the water kingdom's interests better than you.

Actually, that was their way of saying "We don't want to deal with this and since one day you'll have to rule, it's better that you know what to do. Also, we don't want the fish eaters thinking that we hate them".

But, being honest, your grandfather liked humans now as much as he did in the past; the only difference was that he learned how to tolerate them.

Anyway, the truth was: Auradon wasn't as great as people wanted to believe. In theory, having all kingdoms unified was a superb idea, but in practice most of places were losing their own cultural identity, adapting their traditions and habits to fit in Auradon's new rules. If your grandfather had followed all King Beat's proposals 20 years ago, Atlantica would have become a tourist attraction for humans.

It wasn't like King Triton didn't want to be more engaged in Auradon society, but he was afraid to lose the independence of the merpeople. Thus, he hoped that when you assumed the throne, you'd have a better foreign policy than he had without giving up Atlantica's culture and pride.

He looked at you and his piercing glare went right through your soul...

King Triton, intimidating? No, not at all.

"This is not just the King and Queen's engagement party, but also your friend's"

"But grandpa..." you cried out.

"I won't hear it" he raised his hand to show that his decision was final and he wouldn't hear anything else.

You tilted your head back and groaned, if you couldn't talk yourself out of this, you could very well show your dissatisfaction.

"Glad we came to an agreement" he gave a pleased smile like he always did when his wishes were fulfilled and, as he swam past you, he patted your hair "And you might end up having fun"

You rolled your eyes and lay on the floor, defeated. You don't know how long you stayed there, contemplating your misfortune, when suddenly you felt something walking on your tail; you craned your neck and saw Sebastian staring back at you.

"Traitor" you murmured.

"Being in the human world is never my choice. Your grandfather asked me to" he explained, sliding down to your side and you turned over to have a better view of him.

"No one likes to be there, so why do I have to go?"

"For the same reason I had: your grandfather is the king. But I didn't come to discuss the fairness of life" his words caught your attention and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Sebastian seemed a little anxious: he looked side to side and beckoned to you to get closer and, when you did, he said in a muffled and rushed voice:

"You know Derek? That lobster? Yesterday, he was near the northern part of the barrier and saw a girl with teal hair there... even better, he said it was the second time he spotted her there by sunset"

Before you could refrain yourself, you picked the crab up, holding him on the palm of your hand. There was no use in denying that you knew Uma because Sebastian had followed you in Auradon and was aware that you and the sea witch's daughter were friends.

"What?" you practically yelled and your whole body shivered with joy for knowing that Uma had been looking for you "Are you sure?"

"Yes" he confirmed "I thought it could lift your spirit up "

"Sebastian it did! I'm going there now" you stood up in a heartbeat, but before you could make your way to the Isle, Sebastian called you.

"If you go there now, King Triton will think you're avoiding the engagement party" he remarked reasonably.

Damn it, he had a point

"Why don't you go tomorrow after greeting King Ben and his future queen?" He suggested, eyeing you innocently, but you saw right true his intentions.

The only reason he told you about Uma was to give you a boost of encouragement to go to Auradon again, this way you would be excited for the party and wouldn't complain too much about being there.

He was a clever crustaceous.

Well, it worked, at least now you could pretend you were having fun, whereas what you were really looking forward to was seeing Uma again.

"Deal" you hold out your hand and you he shake it to seal the deal.

Even if the party was dreadful, the perspective of meeting Uma again was pretty motivating. You should have asked if Derek saw someone else with her, it was weird but you wouldn't mind seeing Harry again.

_____________

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm going back there"

Talking to Sebastian got you very excited; however, now that you really had to go, you were having second thoughts about it.

You didn't have to attend to any human gathering to go to the barrier; you could very well wait in Atlantic until sunset.

"Why can't grandpa send someone who actually wants to be there? Aqua wouldn't mind, or April or Adryan..." you whined - any of your cousins would gladly go to Mal and Ben's engagement, but of course you were the one your grandfather insisted on.

Nereus, who tried to fix your hair in a new style, hummed blankly to show he was listening.

"I'm feeling sick... Grandpa can't make me go if I'm sick" you turned your face to him and he casted an annoyed look at you before going back to applying pearls in your hair.

"You already used that one not to go to the Royal Cotillion" he reminded you, turning your head forward impatiently when you tried to look at him again.

"But I was sick" you protested, earning an amused glare from him "I was sick of human's bullshit".

He burst out laughing.

"I don't think our grandfather will consider it a good reason to skip this ball" he said after regaining his composure.

"Well, at least I'll be closer to the Isle" you mumbled to yourself, but Nereus heard you.

"Why? What will you do?" he stopped what he was doing and sat on the dressing table, staring at you "Please, don't tell you plan on bringing the barrier down by yourself".

"I don't have the power to do it… You know I've tried" you joked and thankfully, Nereus played along.

"You don't need power, use your head... I mean... it is very hard. I'm pretty sure if you swim fast enough you can make a whole in the barrier"

You punched him playfully and got up.

"Hey, I didn't finish your hair" he called out.

"But I have to go, otherwise I won't arrive in time" you explained, grabbing your comb and placing it between the shells and pearls your brother had adorned your hair with.

Of course, the truth was you weren't leaving because you didn't want to be late, but because your brother was smart enough to figure out that you were up to no good.

"Wish me luck" you hugged him.

"Good luck!" he kissed your cheek and with that, you left.

Your mother told you to be kind and not to forget the manners she taught you, your grandfather said how proud of you he was and even asked if you didn't want to take his royal carriage, to which you denied politely.

You rather swam by yourself and if you were going to the Isle after the party, a carriage pulled by dolphins would be hard to go unnoticed.

You bid goodbye and took the path towards Auradon. The City wasn't close to Atlantica, but years of comings and goings made you an expert and you were able to arrive there in a very short time. Also, fins were so much faster than legs, which made the travel easier.

In other circumstances you'd have stopped to talk to many friends that lived nearby, but a little mantra was echoing in your mind "The faster you get there, the faster you leave. The faster you get there, the faster you leave" - you didn't mean to stay more than the necessary; after all. Your grandfather told you to go to Auradon, but he didn't say how long you had to staythere.

Besides, Sebastian said Uma was seen at the barrier by sunset, but what if she decided to go earlier?  You were going to be there one hour in advance for precaution.

Although magic was highly discouraged, there was no other way for the merpeople to become human without it. That's why a magical necklace was given to any mermaid or merman who wanted to venture themselves ashore.

Those necklaces weren't given away easily, though. In order to acquire one, you had to fill a formulary explaining why you needed it and it had to be accepted by King Ben and King Triton themselves. It was very bureaucratic and the only reason this process had to be done was because King Beast declared all magic should be banished so you could not hand around magical objects freely.

However, since you were a royal diplomatic, they made an exception.

Call it privilege.

One good thing about those necklaces was that King Triton made sure that once you went through the transformation, clothes would magically appear to. It was a huge improvement since your aunt Ariel had gotten her own legs from her deal with Ursula; imagine how would it be if you had to walk around naked until you find something to wear.

At least the merfolk didn't have to worry about that anymore. So, once you got on the beach and turned into human you had on a beautiful dress that matched the shells your brother chose to decorate your hair.

It wasn't as pretty as your tail and fins, though.

You headed to Auradon Prep because the party would be held near the school (why they were so obsessed by this place was beyond your comprehension). When you finally arrived, everyone was already there, talking and having fun.

Thankfully, your cousins that lived in Auradon weren't hard to find and rushed towards them - you couldn't help but notice that, as you got closer, they exchanged money between themselves.

"What's going on?" you asked, intrigued by what you just saw.

"Nothing" Arabella answered "What a lovely dress you're wearing. How is gramps doing?".

She changed the topic way too fast, which made your curiosity grow, but you decided to ignore it for the time being.

"He is fine. He misses you a lot and says you should visit us more often. I can't understand Bella, why do you prefer being here among sweaty humans?"

"Do you ever change the subject?" she complained, rolling her eyes "This is a party and I refuse to deal with your bullshit today"

"Maybe tomorrow, then!" you fired back and she voiced her discontentment with an exasperated shriek.

"Why are you like this?" she said before flouncing off, bouncing her hair as she did so.

"What did I do?" you asked Ella, who had been quiet up to that moment, and she chuckled.

"I miss this" she said, pointing to you and the crowd.

"You're the only one"

"It wouldn't hurt if you came to visit us once in a while, you know" she looked up, her hopeful smile made her eyes crinkle and you mirrored her expression, smiling too.

Ella was Ariel's younger daughter and, even though you didn't see her as much as you would like, she was probably your favorite cousin; she was kind and outgoing, which was a good counterpoint to your not so affable nature.

Before you could reply, one of the merfolk who attended Auradon Prep joined you both, he gave you a little bow and handed your cousin some money. You waited for him to leave before question her about it.

"Ella, what's happening?" your tone made clear you wouldn't take a "nothing" for an answer.

The girl sighed, knowing it was a lost battle.

"Maybe there is a bet going on…" she told you, voice trailing off.

You raised an eyebrow, face turning stoic and you feigned boredom.

"Does it involve me?"

"Well, some people didn't believe you'd show up today after the whole Audrey fiasco" she glanced at you out of the corner of her eye and, when you didn't say anything, Ella went on "We made a bet: everyone believed you wouldn't appear, you know. I was the only one who knew you'd be here and now I'm making a lot of money."

She showed you the amount she had already won and it was kind of impressive. It seemed that half of Auradon was sure you hated the human world.

They were right.

Okay, not hate. It was a great dislike.

"I can't believe you thought I'd come" you said without hiding the indignation in your voice and a little offended that your own cousin didn't know you better.

"C'mon. I knew you wouldn't want to, but I was certain grandpops wouldn't give you much of a choice, so even against your will - and I know you must had protested a lot - you'd be here today"

Your cousin was kind, yet cunning, and that was why she was your favorite.

"I'm impressed" you clapped, nodding your head slowly as you did so.

"I know. I'm amazing" she teased and then, her expression became concerned "How are you, by the way? I've heard they will close the barrier forever"

You whined, for one moment you had forgotten about how you failed the Isle and Uma. First you were angry at Mal and Ben, but now? Now you wanted blood... not literally, but you were kind of mad.

"I've been better... you just remind me I had to wish Ben and Mal my best regards in the name of Atlantica."

"Okay, see you later" she cheered and added on for precaution "Try to be polite, please"

When she asked you that, the memory of Sebastian, your mother and grandfather pleading you to be civil in this party echoed in your mind.

What did they think of you? That you were a mannerless monster?

You were very well educated, thank you very much, but didn't waste your good manners on people who didn't deserve it.

"Can't make any promises" you laughed off, disappearing into the crowed to find the King and Mal.

You didn't have to look for them for long as a mass of people was surrounding the fiancés to be while they thanked everybody for coming to their party. They seemed so merry and pleased whilst their subjects wished them all the happiness of the world. People in Auradon were just so fucking good and gracious, weren't they?

Hypocrites.

You had a plan, though.

1- Smile.

2- Greet.

3- Leave.

It was simple, short, and impossible to mess up.

Smile, greet, leave, smile, greet, leave. You kept repeating it like a mantra as you approached them.

For one moment their cheerful expressions froze and their eyes widened to the size a saucer, but they recomposed themselves quickly enough. Either they were surprised to see you there or they were afraid you were going to snap.

But you wouldn't snap.

You had a plan.

"Your Majesties" you smiled, bobbing a curtsy to them.

1 - Smile. Check.

They saluted you, asking how things were back in Atlantica and the conversation was brief and polite, like it should be.

"In the name of Atlantica I wish you both prosperity and wisdom to rule, and that your life is filled with great joys"

You said that in a very diplomatic tone that could have fooled anyone.

2 - Greet. Check

They thanked you and you made your exit.

3 - Leave. Che...

"And…" you turned back with a spin.

Screw the plan; you didn't sell your voice to a sea witch, so you may as well use it.

"Speaking for me, I really want you both to be happy. I mean, someone has to, right? Considering that you doomed thousands of people to a life of suffering just so you could have your perfect happily ever after without any inconveniences"

Then, you left.

One day you'd be all diplomatic and shit, but that day wasn't today.

And, to be fair, you've tried to be reasonable for years and all you got was "Oh sorry, we can't let anyone off the island. It's not that simple, this would require lots of planning and social reintegration, but we will take this matter into consideration in the future...". That's why you started speaking your mind: even if didn't change anything, at least it wouldn't leave a bitter taste in your mouth for not saying your real opinion.

Yeah, your grandfather really should reconsider who he sent to land for affairs of state.

Whatever, just a few more hours and you'd be making your way to the barrier to see Uma.

You were trying to find your cousin again when Audrey intercepted you, looking rather tense.

"Hey" she greeted you but without meeting your eyes.

Audrey seemed to have taken a strange interested in her hands, which she wringed unsteadily, you noticed.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for.. you know... cursing you and your family..." she said, voice shaking a little.

Oh! So Audrey was a nervous wreck to talk to you, how amusing. It boosted your ego but you weren't that mean.

"Relax, Audrey. It's all forgiven" you put her mind at ease.

She let out a breath and her face brightened up.

"But" you offered her a smile that slowly fade into a severe frown "If you do it again I'll make you wish for something as sweet as sleeping for 100 years".

It was clearly a joke but Audrey didn't get it as she excused and made herself scarce in seconds.

"You know... if you want people to understand when you are joking, you shouldn't keep a straight face"

You jerked your head to face Jay, who handed you a glass with a purple liquid in it.

"I wasn't that intense" you took a sip of the drink, it was way too sweet for your salted water taste, and you were pretty sure that it was alcoholic too.

Well, maybe alcohol was the key to survive this party.

"C'mon! You were like this" he mimic you, making quite a murderous expression. Then, resuming his neutral expression, he added "You are like the sea'.

That was new… but you weren't sure about what he meant by that.

"I'm salty and I scare people?" scrunching your face up in confusion.

It took some good minutes for Jay pull himself together.

"I was going to say imposing and beautiful, but that too" he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

You couldn't help but crack a smile and, since you didn't think of a good answer (which was very unusual), you took another sip of whatever beverage that was.

Fortunately, Jay didn't notice how embarrassed you were by his compliment and changed the topic soon after.

"So, how ar..."

"Stop right there" you warned him, holding your finger up.

"What?" the VK's brows burrowed in confusion but deep inside he was afraid that he had said something wrong.

"I know this face." you explained "Every time people ask how I am, they do this pitiful face and I can't have that... not from you…".

It was painful how most people assumed that you were miserable because of last week events. Okay, you were sad and pissed but gosh, you hated that condescending attitude.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay" he didn't seem offended by your words, but the atmosphere between you two grew colder and awkward.

Great, of all people you could have snapped at today, you did it to Jay.

Now, you were sad, pissed and stupid.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to be rude" you apologized "If you really want to know, I'm a mess. The only reason I didn't cry this whole week was because I live under water, but if you tell this to anyone, I'll deny it".

"It's going to be our secret then" Jay stroked your arm  to show support "You really care about the Isle, don't you?"

You shrugged, not knowing what to say to him. Yes, you cared about the Isle and the people there; it was hard to explain the reason, though.

Maybe another time…

"By the way, I wanted to ask you this..." he cooed and if you hadn't been so busy with that drink, you'd have seen the mischievous gleam in his eyes "Did Uma and you already know each other, by any chance?"

You choked.

Hard.

Jay went to your aid quickly and helped you to recover, slapping your back lightly.

A mermaid choking on a liquid, what a joke.

"No..." your voice cracked and it wasn't because you're still faint "Why would you think that?"

"Well…" he began, but was cut off soon after.

Thank goodness,  Mal and Ben announced they would start their pronouncement and Jay joined his former friends. All people gathered under the balcony where the Royal Family stood proudly, and everybody was eager to hear the news their King and Queen would say.

It was difficult to hear one's thoughts over the cheering and acclamation. However, since you didn't share their happiness, you stayed away from the commotion, enjoying your sweet drink.

Ben started his speech, of course he was very pleased to have Mal as his queen and everyone was happy.

Everyone, except the people on the Isle, of course.

You scoffed so loudly that if people hadn't been hearing Ben's speech, they would have heard you. Subsequently, the king proposed a toast to Mal and you wondered if it would be rude to ignore it.

Everything would be so much easier if your grandfather had made your brother the diplomat of Atlantica, considering he was a people pleaser like you would never be.

Well, it wouldn't hurt to raise your glass, so you did it... very discretely.

For everyone's surprise, Mal announced she couldn't be Queen of Auradon, causing a wave of gasps and murmurs from the puzzled crowd.

Really? Were they really surprised? Like, Mal was a drama queen, she just needed an emotional solo or Evie knocking some sense into her head for her to change her mind.

Unless it involved the Isle of course, then she didn't care to condemn them forever, you thought bitterly.

Yep, you were salty enough to cause hypertension in every single soul in Auradon.

However, you did not expect, not even in your wildest dreams, what followed next. Actually, even after years, you'd still remember that day and think "what the hell just happened". If people were shocked when Mal said she couldn't be queen, they nearly had a stroke when she brought down the barrier. It wasn't like she let just the villain kids off, she destroyed the barrier, and everyone was free.

As a personal note, you observed how fast Ben changed his discourse from "We can't get the merfolk off the Isle without consequences, we need preparation, meetings, plans..." to "Ok, my bae wants to bring down the barrier and I won't argue with her. So yeah, let's do it".

Not that you were complaining but, had you known that it only took a love potion for Ben do what you wanted, you'd have done it.

Wow! What a wild thought to have...

Maybe you were getting a little drunk...

But the barrier came down so, whatever...

You looked at King Beast's face and he was about to pass out any moment, but other than that, everyone seemed very excited to meet the villains.

It wasn't like a minute ago they didn't give a damn about the people there or their fate.

Well, maybe that was Auradon's magic: one moment you hated each other, in the next you were all singing and dancing on a bridge.

You finished your drink in one go, because that was going to be a party to remember.

[lykaokrios]

Perfectly Fine - M!De Sardet x Vasco

Fandom: Greedfall

Paring: Captain Vasco x M!De Sardet

Word Count: 1,658

Description:  Vasco is battling with feelings he most certainly doesn't have for De Sardet, until it all comes spilling out.

Warnings: Mild swearing

My AO3

Vasco wasn’t a man prone to rash emotion. Usually able to keep his head steady in most situations; else he’d make a poor captain. Annoyed? Yes. Miffed? Of course.  But angry? Very rarely.

But anger had seemed to slither into his veins the longer he was on land. It was the land’s doing of course. Being too far from sea. It had nothing to do with the handsome noble he found himself following.

It was never anger AT De Sardet. But anger at situations and people around him. The more he… became friendly with the man the more things that seemed to tick him off.

And it most certainly didn’t have anything to do with the way said man made his heart quicken. With the way he looked at him. With the feelings he refused to acknowledge as anything more than mere attraction. A battle he was sorely losing.

The idea of being in love with a noble seemed crazy. Being in love with the nephew of a Prince however, seemed absolutely insane. Even if he was willing to accept his own feelings, which he wasn’t, there was no way De Sardet would reciprocate. And even if he did, which he wouldn’t, it wasn’t like he was in any position to be with him. He was the Legate of the Congregation, nephew of the prince, cousin of the governor, and he was in line for the fucking throne. As if he could be with a Naut even if he wished to be.

But no. Those thoughts certainly never bothered him. They rarely crossed his mind. And never had he taken that anger out on the next battle they fell into or looked to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey for the answer to this problem.

If he just wasn’t so… caring. If he just didn’t look at him so.. fondly. Vasco concludes that must be it. While the Nauts are a close family, you were set to your own devices to figure things out fairly early. They said that’s how you grow, how you show who you’re going to be. There was no motherly or fatherly roles, just mentors. They cared in their own ways. But never anything outright.

But De Sardet. He often wore his heart on his sleeve. A trait Vasco first saw as a weakness. Caring for too many people. Trying to help too many people, all out of sense of doing the right thing. But over time he found himself enamored with the ideals of the man. The way he tried to maintain peace with everyone. How he wanted to think the best of all parties. The way he took everyone’s voice into account.

The way he easily built friendships as their little crew expanded. How he’d drop everything to help one of them. The day Vasco had asked for his help, he immediately started planning, and had the file to him within 24 hours. It was an odd feeling, having someone in his life that would risk their life and reputation just to make him feel more whole.

The Nauts had long told them that who they were before didn’t matter. To just forget it. But it mattered to Vasco. And because it mattered to him, De Sardet decided it mattered to him as well.

The day Vasco went down in battle, De Sardet was to him in moments, standing over him warding off the attackers with a fierceness he’d never seen. After a pile of corpses lay before them, he swiftly turned to Vasco to check on him. Calloused hands moving impossibly soft across his face, blue-green eyes full of worry staring into his soul.

De Sardet had the eyes of the ocean. Their color reminded Vasco of the waters surrounding the Naut island. The water he grew up splashing in with the other children, swimming in and training in as he grew, and the water he returned to happily each time he made it back. A beautiful blue-green. The storm that seemed to wage in them when he was angry, the calmness in them when he was happy. The captain felt like he could happily get lost in them every time they were trained on his own golden eyes.

Not that his other features were easy to ignore. It would take a blind man to not notice how handsome the legate was. A rugged rough masculine build. Strong jaw, strong frame, a dusting of facial hair. A smile that made him weak in the knees each time it was directed at him. Unfortunately, Vasco wasn’t the only one that noticed.

He knew there would be nothing between himself and the legate, as he continued to remind himself. Others enjoying his features, flirting with him, or attempting to seduce him wasn’t to be of Vasco’s concern. The man could do as he liked.

Not that those people didn’t infuriate the captain to no end. He often just scoffed at their attempts, or focused on maintaining as neutral of an expression as he could manage. A task he didn’t seem to be that good at, if Kurt’s reactions were anything to go by.

“You looked as if you were ready to kill that man,” Kurt states simply as the two of them follow behind the legate as they leave the half Brothel half gambling ring basement of San Matheus.

“No clue what you are on about,” Vasco responds sternly, fighting down the anger still flowing through his veins.

“Either you have a history with that prostitute and you don’t like him, or you don’t like how he talked to De Sardet I’d wager by that reaction,” Kurt pushes.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Vasco still insists, clenching his hands as they walk, his eyes trained on the design on the back of De Sardet’s cape.

“Man was just doin’ his job. Green-blood seemed interested anyway,” Kurt teases.

“He did not!” Vasco hisses, whipping around to face Kurt. His fists clenched and his chest heaving. “The man should be able to see he is an important diplomat doing a job, and fucking watched his mouth. He didn’t immediately need to try to climb him like the fucking mast.”

“Vasco?” De Sardet stops walking to turn back to his companions, his expression confused. “Is everything alright with you two?”

“Perfectly fine,” Vasco responds back through gritted teeth.

Looking unconvinced, the legate’s gaze turns to his old weapons-master, “Kurt?”

Kurt lets out a laugh before reaching out to grab the Naut on the shoulder, a move Vasco refutes, shaking his hand off of him. “I’m just havin’ a bit of fun with him, and he took it seriously.”

Crossing the distance between them, De Sardet approaches Vasco, noticing the obvious tension in his body.

“Kurt, please give us a moment to speak,” he says, placing a hand to Vasco’s chest as he backs the man into an a nearby empty alleyway. “What happened?”

In that moment, the dirt road suddenly got far more interesting for the Naut captain. His eyes trained to one specific boot print in the dirt as he tries to mumble a lame response.

“Vasco.”

“He was just… teasing me a bit, nothing more nothing less,” he insists.

“What did he say that got you that riled up? I’ve never seen you this agitated. Then again… you were agitated before this. What is going on?”

Vasco remains silent, just kicking his own boot in the dirt. His body still tensed, but now he’s not sure if it’s previous anger or how close he now found himself to the other man.

After a few moments of silence, De Sardet grabs ahold of both sides of Vasco’s uniform and shoves him back into the brick wall behind, causing the Naut to immediately look up into his eyes in shock. “Vasco.”

Before he can formulate an answer, he finds himself crashing his lips to the legate’s. De Sardet jumps at the the initial contact, but quickly deepens the kiss between them. Vasco’s arms wrap around him, his hands gripping his cape as a growl escapes his throat.

De Sardet knocks his hat off as his hands go to the Naut’s hair, quickly freeing it from its tie. His hands sink in his long brunette hair as they pull each other impossibly closer.

And seemingly as quick as it began, they’re pulling back gasping for a breath. A chuckle from De Sardet as Vasco’s eyes desperately search his.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” the legate admits softly. “But was that just to distract me from my questions or…?”

“Or,” Vasco responds immediately, cursing himself at the dumb response as he earns another chuckle. He can feel his cheeks flushed, and his mind feels scrambled.

“What were you angry about?”

At this point, Vasco decides it’s time to just answer truthfully. If there was any chance… “He was teasing me about my anger from the interrogation.”

“He was teasing you for being angry in the brothel? You seemed angry, but I assumed you just didn’t like how unhelpful he was being.”

“I was… aggravated… at his advances,” he admits. “At you.”

“You were upset that the worker tried to seduce me?”

“Aye.”

Another chuckle. And with that Vasco can feel his cheeks heating ever further, “Sea and love both share a bitter bite… the sea seizes. Love seizes. Love scalds us, and the seas scalds us. For neither are free from tempest might.”

De Sardet looks back at him curiously, the sea in his eyes calm as he finds himself staring into them.

“A poem?”

“Yes… uh.. a poem I read and which I was trying to remember. It makes me think of you… of us,” he admits. “I- would you… want to spend some time alone together?”

A gentle smile spreads across De Sardet’s face, his hand moving to Vasco’s cheek as he strokes it gently, “I thought you’d never ask.”

[bellamyblakru]

For the Bad Things Happen Bingo, can I request ‘passing out from the pain’ with hurt!Merlin/protective!Gwaine ???

YOU SURE CAN. i have like a list of prompts that came before this one that i should be doing,,, but i really wanted to try and write merwaine so badly isksksksk thank you for this opportunity. i hope i can do them justice with my first time🥺 (also lol i fangirled at your request bc i love your account sm asbskakak)

here it is on ao3 and under the cut! i hope you like it!!

Merlin watched Gwaine from his peripheral, thinking about everything and nothing at once. Gwaine has been with the knights for a few years now, right when Arthur took the crown, and Merlin hasn’t seen any indication that the man wanted to leave. But he will one day, won’t he? He has told Merlin many times how he doesn’t like staying in one place for too long, so Merlin never expected him to stay here as long as he has.

Merlin frowned at his thoughts on top of his mare, Honey, as Gwaine chatted with Percival and Leon. He was making them laugh, that smile of his shining through the darkening thoughts floating in Merlin’s mind. Merlin couldn’t help letting the soft smile slip through seeing how happy Gwaine made them—it seemed like Gwaine had that effect on everyone, Merlin mused.

Arthur was talking with Lance and Elyan, so Merlin let his mind start wandering. His magic was itching to escape—it has been since the morning they left on this hunt. Merlin knew Arthur just wanted to flee the restraints of the castle, and, honestly, Merlin had been feeling the same way for days.

Lately, Gwaine had been avoiding him. Well, Merlin thinks Gwaine had been avoiding him, at least, and Gwaine never does that, ever. He’d been thinking that he must have hurt Gwaine somehow, but every time he thought back to their last interaction, where nothing seemed wrong, he had no idea where the distance was coming from. He had been making Gwaine laugh at training, and after that day, he hadn't been able to get more than five words to him.

He missed Gwaine.

That thought made him frown once more at the offending trees they were passing. He missed Gwaine because Gwaine was his friend, nothing more. The more he tried to convince himself of that fact, the more unlikely it became. Frustrated, Merlin let some of his prickling magic flow out his fingertips to his mare, smoothing away her small aches.

Merlin patted her neck with a small smile as she sighed out in contentment—at least he could do one thing right lately. Magic, he thought with heart panging a bit, still wasn’t free and Arthur has been on the throne for about five years. It hurts, still after all this time, that something as pure as this would lead to his death—but he knew deep down that he wasn’t afraid of dying, not anymore. No, Merlin was terrified of how his friends would react after years of deceit and pain.

Just out of reflex, Merlin looked towards them. He found Gwaine staring at him, concern written on every feature, but the second their eyes met, his friend quickly started up another conversation with the others.

Merlin ignored the deepening pang in his chest and the nausea rising in his throat—this was nothing, he told himself, Gwaine didn’t mean anything by that.

The lie left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He was about to suggest they stop, wanting a distraction, when he heard the noise. His mare also stopped, feeling him stiffen. Merlin whipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.

“Merlin?” Gwaine quickly came to his side, but Merlin’s head didn’t move, “Do you hear something?”

Merlin wished he didn’t, just so he could use this as an excuse to talk to him, but he scowled lowly in response, “Bandits—ten, if I’m right, and many have magic.”

He knew Gwaine wouldn’t ask how he knew—he never did.

The man nodded, and Merlin’s heart lightened a bit when Gwaine didn’t say “to relax” or that “he was paranoid” like the rest of the knights would’ve done. It always felt good to not be second-guessed.

“How long do we have?”

Merlin tilted his head, “Two minutes, at most.”

Gwaine grunted in response, galloping towards Arthur. Merlin didn’t like the void he felt in his heart the second Gwaine left his side, but, shaking his head, he knew there were more important matters to think about. Merlin watched, amazed, as the knight got everyone’s attention so easily. The way he talked, with his rare seriousness expression, captivated everyone just as much as his joking did.

And although Merlin tried to convince himself that the knights would listen to him that way if he told them, he knew they would never.

Merlin was a simple country boy, wasn’t he? He had no credibility to them. He couldn’t truly blame them—it’s not like Merlin was an open book. He lied, but never completely. His cheerful, idiotic personality was a cover of sorts, but it was just another part of who he was. He wasn’t only the clumsy fool, but what could he do to show them otherwise? They knew Gwaine hid his problems in jokes and clever remarks, so what was so wrong with Merlin doing the same? Merlin didn’t know, and he didn’t think he wanted to.

Showing them the magic, the part that was so integral to who he was, would lead them to fear him, not respect him as one of their own. He didn’t want recognition, that’s never why he did what he does, but some form of understanding between them all is what he craved, what he wished. To not be second-guessed when he knew everyone’s lives were at stake and that he could save them...but that was only a fool’s dream.

He stopped with the rest of the knight when Gwaine convinced them that something was coming.

“Merlin,” Gwaine said from the top of the group, “go to the tree line, you won’t get hurt there.”

Merlin nodded with a carefully blank face—the battling emotions, of love and irritation, whirling inside of him.

They don’t know you can protect yourself, the logical part of his mind reminded him. After all these years, Merlin thought, I should be able to accept the coddling with a full heart. It showed that they do care about him, but why did it never feel that way? Merlin felt like an obstacle in their way—someone to protect, to always watch out for, a hindrance.

Merlin felt silly for the negative thoughts—none of this could be helped right now, so why dwell on these facts?

Aiming for the most advantageous spot, Merlin saw the first bandit pop out next to Eylan, who effectively took the man down. Percy patted him on the back as they moved around Arthur, flanking their king in preparation of the ambush.

As the air pulsed with anticipation, Merlin’s eyes strayed towards Gwaine, like always. The man’s face was grime, ready for battle, as he surveyed the surrounding area.

Merlin was distracted as a noise came from behind him, and he quickly spun around to face the intruder. The bandits with magic were walking smoothly towards him and Merlin panicked—do I attack? He changed his mind quickly, not thinking about it too much, as he turned around and ran towards his group to warn them.

Merlin guessed the obvious panic on his face spurred the knights to run towards him, but it was too late. One of the bandits threw a spell at him with a force that threw him to the side, hitting a nearby tree.

He vaguely heard the shouting of the knights as the attackers surrounded them, all eight of them chanting under their breaths as they did so, forcing the circle of the roundtable knights to still. Merlin groaned in pain, lifting himself.

Protect them. Protect them.

His only goal—and it has been since the beginning. In that moment, Merlin realized how unimportant it was that they never knew about the magic. The knights knew how much Merlin loved them, so everything else was secondary. Merlin, with or without his magic, would always put himself in danger if it meant his friends can see the next day.

Pulling himself up with the tree, he shook his head and listened to the droning monologue of the leader.

Same shit, as always.

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh—loudly. The monotonous speaker abruptly stopped talking as they all stared at Merlin laughing.

He couldn’t help it, honestly.

The leader narrowed his eyes at him, “What’s so funny, boy?”

Arthur and Gwaine shook their heads in looks that screamed “shut up, Merlin,” but Merlin held his stomach as the laughter subsided, the smile still on his face as he replied, “Nothing, I swear,” but then another chuckle escaped as the leader frowned at the answer.

When one of the lackeys stepped forwards with a sword pointing at him, Merlin sobered up, a smirk in place, as he lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you! It’s just...every time this happens, one of you always explains why you are doing what you are doing. And every time, and I mean every time, it is revenge for what Uther did. Who, by the way, is long dead. Arthur, like always, gets blamed for his father’s actions. Are you guys just daft, or does everyone truly believe Arthur is actually Uther? It’s quite simple, really. Uther was a tyrant—I think we can all agree on that, but attacking his son? What’s the purpose? To show the King that magic can never be used for good? You know when all he sees is magic being used against him, of course he will hate it. What other choice would he have, hmm?”

Merlin’s smile dropped off as he shook his head, walking towards the stunned group, “Honestly! I get it, I truly do, but this will never solve anything. You are perpetuating the violent cycle, you understand?”

At Merlin’s question, the leader growled, “All I see is a stupid servant running his mouth.”

Merlin’s face lit up, “Interesting. Nothing took, then?”

He heard Gwaine sigh, “Merls?”

Merlin looked over at the knight, who had a small smile on his face, “Yes, Sir Knight?”

Gwaine laughed a bit, “You might be slightly more dramatic than me, and that’s impressive, to say the least. You think your lovely wit could save us?”

Merlin smiled at the knight, his heart feeling more full than it has all week, and winked, “Well, it was worth the shot?”

And as they just continued smiling at each other, Merlin saw the leader blink and shake his head, muttering something to one of his followers with nothing but malice on his face.

Merlin watched, almost in slow motion, as the next spell was directed at Gwaine.

That wasn’t the plan.

Merlin yelled, “No!” as he sprinted and leapt in front of the knight as the spell hit home. Merlin gasped in pain, staring in shock at the sizzling hole in his abdomen, and he heard the leader laugh.

Merlin's focus narrowed solely on the leader, everything else drowning out as that malicious laugh continued. The bandits all started chanting once more, circling the group, and when he started hearing the grunts of pain from his friends, Merlin’s mind, in a moment of pure clarity, repeated: protect them.

So, with a hole in his stomach, Merlin straightened up and locked eyes with the people hurting his friends.

“This stops. Now.”

And before they could get another word in, Merlin’s eyes burned the brightest molten gold. The wind whipped, the sky darkened, and the ground shaking with Merlin being the center of it all. The bandits backed up hastily, staring at Merlin like a newly found god, and Merlin blinked at the action—their actions full of desperate fear, and that wasn’t right. He never wanted to be feared.

Merlin let the power steep into his voice, “Leave now and never hurt anyone ever again. Do you understand?”

They all shook their heads, bowing at the waist for him, and right before they ran with their tails between their legs Merlin could swear he could hear their whispers of Emrys.

The minute they were out of sight, Merlin sagged. His entire body felt like it was on fire, his brain had pulsating pain that felt like lightning behind his eyes. And when his strength left, he felt two people’s arms wrap around him.

Looking up with all his effort, Merlin saw Lance and Gwaine on either side of him, the latter with a sword up at the abnormally silent group.

The world was blurring when Merlin heard Gwaine snarl at the king, “You take one wrong step and I will run you through.” And even in his state of delirium, Merlin knew Gwaine meant it.

“Gwaine,” Merlin whispered, the pain lacing through his body in waves, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Gwaine bit back still facing Arthur and the knights with his sword raised high.

Merlin smiled sadly, staring at his knight, “Gwaine?”

That got the man’s attention, the anger draining out of him the minute their eyes met, and Merlin continued quietly, “Thank you.” The “thank you for not hating me for having magic, thank you for protecting me, thank you for being here” went unsaid, but not unheard.

Merlin saw Gwaine’s eyes water, “You’re going to be fine, Merls, you’ve been through worse, you know? This is nothing.”

Merlin let out a wet laugh, “Yeah, maybe.”

Gwaine was speaking again, but Merlin couldn’t hear him anymore. The pain became too much then, so Merlin let the black spots in his vision take over, and he welcomed oblivion with a smile.

—————

The next few times Merlin woke up, he was against someone’s front with a horse galloping at full speed underneath him. He would groan, but quickly succumb to the pain again.

The first time he could actually open his eyes completely, he was staring at a very familiar ceiling. Merlin gasped as he tried to move, his hand flying to his stomach.

“Merlin! Don’t move, my boy,” Gaius’s worried face came into view, “You need some rest, but you’re going to be just fine.”

Merlin figured as much when he took the hit, knowing his magic wouldn’t let him die that easily.

He blanched, remembering what happened, “Gaius?” he rasped out, his voice felt scratchy like he had been screaming for hours, “Is everyone…?”

Gaius frowned, but Gwaine, who Merlin just noticed was sitting right next to him, answered for him with nothing cheerful on his face, “Everyone is fine, thanks to you.”

Merlin sighed in relief, looking back up to the ceiling, and he heard Gaius pat Gwaine as he moved out the door leaving the two of them alone.

They sat in a comfortable silence until Merlin asked, his voice small, “Gwaine, what happened?”

Gwaine huffed out a breath, out of anger or pain, Merlin didn’t know, as Gwaine moved to sit next to him on the cot. Merlin grunted a little as he moved to make room for him, and Gwaine frowned at the noise.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

Gwaine looked at him in clear disbelief, “I’m sure.”

Merlin sighed, looking up at the knight, “Tell me?”

Gwaine nodded in defeat, “I threatened princess, as you know,” Merlin nodded, a frown forming, “I was going to throw you over my shoulder and run for it.”

Merlin blinked, “That was your plan? Even when you’re mad at me, you were still going to take me with you?”

Gwaine’s eyes widened, “I’m not mad at you! What made you think that?”

Merlin looked to the side, “You’ve been avoiding me, Gwaine, I know it.”

Gwaine flinched, “Oh. That.”

After the moment of heavy silence, with Merlin’s heart feeling like it was breaking, he moved on, “Whatever, you obviously didn’t need to use that plan since I’m home. What happened?”

Gwaine smiled a bit here, “Well, Sir Lancelot and I stood our ground. Lance had a lot to say about you for a man of such a few words. While I lifted you up, and took you away from the group, Lance told them everything. Arthur,” Gwaine shook his head, “he looked betrayed and hurt at first, but after a day of Lance’s tales of you, and mentioning how you literally just saved us once again without bloodshed, Arthur finally came to his senses—especially when I kept threatening him.”

Merlin started crying, unwillingly, blindly grabbing for Gwaine’s hand, “So, what now? Everyone knows and I’m not dead? Am I banished? Hated? Feared?”

Gwaine’s face was uncharacteristically soft as he wiped the tears from Merlin’s face with his other hand, “Now...now, we make history and show these assholes what they’ve been missing. Merlin,” he tightened his grip on his hand, “I always knew something was different about you. And I never, ever, feared you for a moment—even as you made those bandits shit themselves.” Gwaine let out a small laugh at that, the soft smile returning to his face, “I don’t know how many times I need to say this until it gets through that stubborn head of yours: I came to Camelot for you and you alone. No princess or wealth keeps me here, you do.” Gwaine stilled his hand on Merlin’s face, “And if I needed to, I wouldn’t have hesitated to grab you and run—I’ve always been prepared for that, actually.”

Merlin kept crying, “Then why?” Why have you been distancing yourself? Why did you make me think you hated me? Why are you so loyal to me?

Gwaine's face fell at Merlin’s hoarse and quiet question, “I’m not good enough for you. I knew how I felt, and I knew you deserved better than me. I haven’t stayed in one place this long before, and I thought if you knew that you were the only person keeping me here that I would scare you off before we even had a chance.”

Merlin stared at his knight, understanding and sadness flowing through him, “Gwaine,” he choked out, “you’re an idiot.”

Gwaine gaped, undignified, “Hey! Bold words for a man who is utterly vulnerable at this moment.”

Merlin laughed lightly, “An idiot,” he continued, “who I love.”

Gwaine’s eyes shone brightly, “Love,” the disbelief in his voice hurting Merlin’s heart, “You love me? Merls, are you sure?”

Merlin laughed again at the absurdity of the wild man in front of him, “Yes, Gwaine, I am sure. Only if you wouldn’t mind facing the uncertainty of my future—“

Merlin was cut off with a loud, surprise gasp when Gwaine threw himself on top of him for a hug, then grabbing his face, and placing a rather soft kiss to his lips.

“Merlin. I would rather be at your side, with the threat of the world crushing us, than anywhere else. You, my magically beautiful friend, will never feel alone again in this life. I give you my sword, my heart, and everything I am—if you will have me.”

Merlin nodded, his eyes watering once more, and smiled into the next kiss with his knight.

Merlin felt the burden of destiny in his soul lift in his embrace with Gwaine—and he knew, deep in his heart and soul, that with Gwaine at his side, they could face any uncertainty coming their way.