#oh who cares it's a show about magical talking horses everything is allowed!

[qalrey]

feminity (in a transgender way!!!)

[creweemmaeec11]

My favourite prompts:

A list of my favourite prompts that I’ve posted in the past, all curated into a huge list just for you guys!

1

Finally, the day has come. The villain is thought to be dead. The hero has won.

Until suddenly the hero learns the villain left them EVERYTHING in their will. Made them the owner and operator of all their illegal business.

Obviously, the hero plans to shut everything down immediately. But they quickly realize just how many people the villain employed… how many family’s they fed…

2

“You kissed me,”

“I did… and?”

“What-!? What do you mean and!?,”

“What more do you want?”

“An explanation would be a good start!”

“…or I could just do it again…”

*other person turns bright red,*

“Or… or that, I suppose,”

3

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I think the better question would be what in the hell are you wearing,” the villain replied, amusement clear on their face, like they were struggling to keep from laughing.

“What- it’s-” the hero blushed, remembering what they were wearing, “their pajamas! What are you-!”

“Oh my god…” the villain replied, like they were struggling to come to terms with what they were seeing, “the hero of the city not only own, but wears a onesie,”

“Excuse me!” The hero snapped in defence, “They’re comfortable!”

“They? You have more??”

4

“I gotta say hero,” The villain mused as they casually moved toward the cell bars, “I’ve been called many things in my life: monster, villain, outcast, loser, scoundrel,” they tilted their head, examining the hero before them, “but ‘our last hope?’” *clicks tongue* “that’s a first,”

5

You live in a world where anyone born with superpowers must become a super hero. It doesn’t matter what the power is, or how small it is, it is mandatory. It was deemed that having anyone with superpowers work alongside regular people was “unsafe” and “unfair.” Every year, dozens of superhero’s with powers useless for fighting are killed. You’ve managed to make it this long with nobody finding out you have a superpower. But how much longer can you hide in plain sight?

6

The city’s villain mysteriously disappears and hasnt been seen in a week. The people are celebrating, but the hero is worried. What if the villain is planning something big? Determined to stop whatever evil plan is brewing, the hero tracks the villain down, but they dont find what they expected. Instead of evil plotting, the villain:

-Has been taking care of a sick pet -Come down with the flu -Been helping arrange a friends wedding -Found out they were pregnant -Is getting married themselves -Mourning the death of a loved one -Has adopted a young pet and been occupied taking care of them -Has been helping one of their lackeys who’s in a desperate situation -Has been feeding the homeless and offering blankets

7

You’re the most wanted villain by all highest ranking authorities, but all the heros “just can’t seem to catch you” (they always let you get away) because all your crimes are things like stealing expensive medication and then donating it to hospitals, robbing toy stores and donating to orphanages, robbing banks and giving to charity, robbing grocery stores and feeding the homeless, ect

8

A hero/villain with the power to materialize their own tattoos. Got a wrench tattoo? Now you’ve got a wrench. Got a tattoo of wings? A bomb? A get away car? Well…

Dragon tattoos have always been popular, havent they?

9

Write about a genius inventor villain who, while watching the news, learns about a sick child in hospital doctors arnt sure they can cure. The villain realizes something theyve invented could cure the child. Now the hard part is convincing them to let the villain help.

10

The villain starts to notice the hero is feeling more down the usual, so they start leaving the hero little notes to cheer them up. All is going well until the hero figures out who is sending them.

11

In a world of magic users where everyone is divided into the 6 eye colours, and the colour of your eyes represents what your powers are. Each colour has an elemental power, can talk to a certain type of creature(Invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals), and has 3 other powers. For example, blue eyes control water, can commune with fish, etc. Everyone in the world has either red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple eyes. Except for you, you were born with black eyes. Everyone is afraid of what your powers will be, but they should be more worried about the kind of creatures you can talk to…

12

A hero and a villain (and maybe their sidekicks, up to you) trapped in a haunted house or haunted location.  

-One is scared so the other comforts them. They are both scared but trying to act like they aren’t. -One doesn’t believe in ghosts, and the other has the power to communicate with them or see them. -Ghosts aren’t real, but one continues to try and freak the other out, who claims they aren’t scared. -Ghost wingman. I need’ d say no more -One gets possessed, so the other has to do the whole ‘kiss to break a curse’ thing to bring them out of it. -The classic Person A thinks ghosts aren’t real so they prank Person B to scare them. Then shit gets real, but person B doesn’t believe person A, thinking its just another prank.

13

“I trusted you! You promised!”

“I kept my promise! I got you your results! Don’t question my methods from a top that high moral horse or yours, especially when the only reason you made a deal with me in the first place was because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done!”

14

The local wildfire has been growing out of control, forcing the city to have to evacuate. Suddenly, the villain with water powers shows up to lend a hand to fire fighters.

15

“Tell me hero,” the villain spoke, chains jangling from where they hung on the villains wrists as they walked up to the bars of the jail cell, “If you wanted to skip a press conference, could you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sisters getting married, but your needed for a big event at the hero academy that day. Would you be allowed to attend the wedding? What about if your brother stole a pack of gum. Could you let it slide? Not would you, but could you?”

The hero paused. Could they? They had responsibilities! They had commitments to the city, and to the serving of justice!

The villain laughed at the heros silence, “I may be in jail, but you’re more chained then I’ll ever be,”

16

“So tell me,” the villain drawled, dragging a finger across the heros skin, making them shiver, “what changed your mind?”

17

Hero discovers the villain has a day job. It isnt at all what they expected. (Day care, animal shelter, etc)

18

“What are you going to do if you beat me, and suddenly the city dosent need a hero? What are you going to do if you get hurt and can no longer fight, and the city forgets about you just like all the heros before you? Who will you be when your legacy crumbles under the weight of all those who follow? Will you take up knitting?”

The hero stared unblinking and frozen as the villain took a step forward.

“Sure, your a hero. But what are you without that?”

The villain took another step forward.

“Your nothing, heroism is all you have. That pathetic title you curl up to every night. But without it?” They looked the hero up and down, “Absolutely nothing…”

19

A villain retires from villainy and gets plastic surgery (or simply never showed their face) so they can live a normal life without being recognized. While living their new life, they bump into the hero, and the two start falling for eachother. But the villain is terrified of the hero finding out the truth

20

The hero slammed their front door as quickly as they could, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The villain. The villain was outside their door.

“Well that was rude,”

21

A hero with magic powers, in a world where magic is unheard of. They have always kept their powers a secret, fearing they would be shunned, or tested on. They never use their powers in battle.

One day, while practicing their magic alone in the woods, the villain appears out of nowhere. 

Before the hero can explain, the villain asks, “you have powers too?”

22

A hero dies. Or at least, they think they do. The next thing they know they wake up at their own funeral. And the only person there? Is the villain.

23

“The worst part, is you had the nerve to call it love”

[giorno-plays-piano]

I would like a request for Steve Demon, something very dark and hot, thank you! 😈❤️

Hi darling! Thank you for your patience 🙏💖 This story was inspired by Slavic witch legends and VN Demonheart!

Oh, my love, don't forsake me

Pairing: demon!Steve Rogers x witch!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, dark magic, dubcon, witch!Nakia, mentions of violence.

Words: 1670.

___________________

You remembered your first encounter with him well. It had been your first Walpurgis Night when Nakia presented you to a coven: you had been taken through an initiation ritual to become a true witch, and all of you danced and drank and laughed, jumping through grand fire and burning your clothes till you all had been naked, only jewelry - necklaces, earrings and bracelets - left on your bodies.

It was then when demons had arrived, many of them flying directly to their witches and starting dancing with them, picking them up and letting them ride them high up in the sky as if they were horned horses, and you froze on your spot, watching their red bodies glowing.

"You will choose your demon lover today." Nakia whispered to you, smiling to her own mighty demon, his shoulders wide and muscular, his gaunt wings so large he could cover ten people with each. "There are several of those who are free."

"Today?" You asked her nervously, watching those demons without a witch on their backs. "But I thought I would be given time to let them know better."

You knew no one but Nakia, and the thought of choosing your demon right this very moment seemed a bit frightening to you. The witch was choosing her demon lover for eternity - unless both her and him would decide to separate, but it was highly unlikely as the bond they built had always been hard to break. How could you do it without knowing a demon first? Today you could make the worst mistake in your entire life - and afterlife, considering that your soul would travel back to Hell with your demon by your side.

"Don't fret over little things." The witch flashed you a wide smile, her flawless skin glowing softly in the dim light coming from the fire meters away from you. "You will be fine. Look at them! Who is the one you want the most?"

She motioned to the demons flying up in the air, their wings flapping, and you realized you could actually see what was beneath the loincloth of some of them, your face growing unbearably hot. How indecent! Why didn't they wear something more concealing?

"Because they are showing new witches what they got to offer." Your mentor laughed at your bemused expression, and you chuckled, thinking how you were standing naked in front of them with just a think golden necklace on, the only valuable jewelry you had. "Don't be shy, dear. Look, look at them! Ask me if you see someone attractive, and I will tell you everything I know."

Oh dear, it was probably the most embarrassing thing you had ever done, but you couldn't miss your only opportunity to know more about your future lover. Besides, you didn’t become a witch to spend your days caring about morals and decency, did you? You were going to sin till the very end of your life, and today could be a nice starting point. In the end, a physical body and all its parts were nothing to be ashamed of.

Watching several men, their skin scarlet, floating above the grand fire and laughing along the other couples, you tried focusing on those who you thought looked the strongest and sheepishly whispering to Nakia. You felt a little distressed her own lover had to wait for you, but the demon only grinned at you, baring his pearly white teeth, and bowed his head a little, visibly agreeing to wait longer. Maybe they weren’t all as scary as you imagined? You certainly hoped so, pointing to several demons and asking your mentor about them.

“This one? This is Tony, he’s a clever but vicious sort.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Turning her face to you, Nakia gently caressed your head as if you were her child. “No, darling. Not to us. But you are right, I doubt Tony would be the right choice for you. Maybe young Peter? It is his first Walpurgis Night, but he’s of age. Or Brock, that demon over there? Oh no, look at this ruthless barbarian...”

However, before you had time to look at the man she had pointing at, another demon suddenly crossed your way, and you stilled when he looked directly at you, his large crimson wings blocking the view for both Nakia and you. He stood out from the crowd with his glowing golden hair and immense wings that were bigger than even Nakia’s lover, and you frown when the demon landed on his goat hooves, aggressively ripping his loincloth away and baring his flesh in front of you. Your face grew hot at his shameless display, and searched for your mentor’s hand, clutching it in yours like a child, truly. What was that? Did you make the demon upset? Had you broken some rule you didn’t know about?

Nervously glancing at Nakia’s lover you saw him distressed, too, but he didn’t move further to protect you, standing on his place. Was it because there was no true danger or because he simply couldn’t protect his witch against the monster in front of you?

“Who is he?” Your whisper was barely audible as you trembled, clinging to Nakia, and she wrapped her warm arm around your shoulders, leaning closer to your ear.

“Steven of Triskelion. Do not be scared, my darling, he isn’t here to hurt you. I wonder why he’s courting you so... passionately, though.”

“Courting me?”

“Oh yes, my dear. Look at him, putting himself on display like that for a young witch. His desire for you must be strong.”

Softly waving at her lover and seeing him relaxing, Nakia gently pushed you in front, encouraging you to come closer to the demon whose gaze was so intense you were worried he would make a hole in you. Oh, you needed to talk to him. Probably. You weren’t sure, but by the look on the witch’s face you guessed the demon in front of you wasn’t necessarily a bad choice. Judging by his enormous form and his thick, veiny cock in between his muscled legs, maybe he really weren’t.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious in front of him, you tried smiling and prevent yourself from covering your body with your hands - he had just shown himself completely naked to you, and it would be disrespectful of you to do otherwise. You certainly didn’t want to upset a demon like him.

“Hello, Sir. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You said politely, hoping he wouldn’t mind the way you talked to him. Should you bow to him? Offer him your hand? Kiss his cheek? No, no, you wouldn’t dare.

For a second you thought he was going to hit you, but you knew a demon would never do that to a witch, especially with a whole coven present. They’d ban him from ever pairing with any of them, stripping him of a possibly ally and lover. Only the most insane demons would try doing something as reckless and disrespectful, but they weren’t allowed to Walpurgis Night celebrations. Thank... Devil?

The demon suddenly chuckled, baring his sharp fangs, “You don’t have to be so polite with me, little witch. I am sorry for intimidating you for it was not my intention. Come closer.”

Liar! He loved the effect he had on you, you didn’t have to get inside his horned head to see it. Was he of patronizing kind? Maybe. It wasn’t the worst one among demons straight from Hell, and you smiled at him, putting your arm in his as he drew you closer to him, his other arm softly cupping your chin. His crimson body was radiating heat, and you enjoyed it when demon made you lean onto his wide chest. Despite being somewhat shy about the whole encounter, you were starting to warming up, demon’s touch having a strange effect on you.

“Allow me to give you this.” The man murmured into your ear, and you felt the heaviness of a string of pearls on your neck, touching it with your fingers and watching the demon with wide eyes.

Of course, you have heard of witches receiving gifts from their demonic lovers, but Steve was still a stranger to you. Was it right to accept something so expensive from him? While you tried looking for Nakia to ask her advice, the demon wrapped his large gaunt wings around you two, preventing you from searching for your friend, and forcefully turned your face to him, claiming your lips as if he wanted to devour you. You had no time to react before his huge tongue got inside your mouth, his clawed hand running up your rib cage and cupping your breasts as you whimpered against him, his body blazing hot. He didn’t give you a second to get accustomed to the kiss before spreading his wings and flapping them as he unceremoniously grabbed you by the hips and flew up, taking you with him. You let out a little mewl, clinging to Steve for life. What was he doing?!

“Don’t be scared, kitten. I’m not asking you to ride on my back just yet.” The demon’s voice was soft, but you could see his grin getting wider, and a part of you was nervous at his somewhat aggressive courting. “But wouldn’t you like it? I can be a powerful ally for a witch and a gentle lover for an innocent kitten like you.”

“Be careful, dear. Steve became bitter after his witch has left him to return to God,” Nakia’s voice said in your head, and you frowned, knowing the demon most certainly heard her, too.

She left him for God? What, how was this even possible?

Demon’s grin turned wicked as he kissed your forehead, getting higher and higher as other demons and witches danced below you. “It’s true, darling. That’s why after you choose me to be your lover I will carve your heart out of your chest and keep it with me.”

_____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess

[mca-attack21]

The Beginning of Something part III

@the-ducks-umbrella @heyrobinstuff .... it's here with three parts left to go. As for everyone else, you can catch the first two parts as well as the rest of my writing here.

Your life in Camelot was beginning to fall into a welcomed routine. You would wake up early in the morning and beat Merlin down to the kitchens to fetch breakfast for the King and Queen. Just about the time that you laid everything out on the table, Merlin would come through the door, a small sense of relief evident as his eyes met yours. Some friendly banter would soon follow, which inevitably woke both Arthur and Gwen. Gwen would get up and you would help her prepare for the day and Arthur would threaten Merlin for waking him before begrudgingly allowing him to help prepare him for the day. The two would sit down for breakfast as you and Merlin began busying yourself with some of your chores about the room. You made the bed as Merlin collected the laundry. Sometimes you would shoot glances at each other, Merlin would mock Arthur under his breath, and you would try miserably not to laugh.

Throughout the day you would see each other in passing. Sometimes Merlin would go out of his way to seek you out and check in on you. Anytime that you had free time you would check in with Gaius or some of the knights that Merlin introduced you to to see if there was anything that you could do to help. Gaius took advantage of the fact that you were far more knowledgeable than Merlin when it came to healing magic and enchantments for his poultices. Even on the slow and “uneventful” days in Camelot, you found a way to stay busy.

It was the evenings that you looked forward to the most though. After you and Merlin had both completed the daily tasks and both Arthur and Gwen dismissed you for the night, he would take you out for a while. He used the fact that you were new to the castle at first, then it was that he wanted to introduce you to some more of the knights, to show you different places in Camelot that may have changed since the last time you were there, etc. Your favorite times were when you were released early and able to go beyond the citadel. That was when both you and Merlin could be completely free with each other, not having to worry about using magic or speaking freely. Though to be completely honest any time spent with Merlin was something you would not trade for anything else.

Being around him eased your mind and made your heart swell. You loved to make him smile or laugh, to have him be so carefree if even for a moment in the face of everything that was coming. Having someone to share your burden and the dangers that fate had determined you should carry was unreal. The two of you understood each other in a way that no one else had before. If things were different, maybe the two of you… But that didn’t matter, not really, you felt lucky to even know Merlin, if friendship was all that was in the cards for you that would be enough. Though that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t let your mind wander through the possibilities.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Gwen asked.

“No, sorry M’lady I got caught up in my head again.”

“No need to apologize, I just asked if you wanted to accompany Arthur, Merlin, and I on a ride for lunch.”

“I would love to accompany you. Do you need me to prepare anything? I can help you change into riding clothes if you would prefer?”

“That won’t be necessary, Merlin is arranging everything and I plan to wear this. You can take the time to change if you wish, I have nothing else for you to do this morning.”

“Thank you, your highness, I will come up and accompany you to the stables when it is time,” you bowed your head before moving towards the door.

“Y/n-” she called as you neared the door.

“Yes?”

“First of all, call me Gwen, I was once in your position and the titles and formalities are not necessary, especially not in here, not between friends. And I would like to think in the past weeks that you would come to think of me as such?”

“Of course M’- Gwen, you are one of the few friends that I have in Camelot.”

“I’m glad to be your friend, and as your friend, I want to assure you that he feels the same way,” Gwen said with a smile relaxing.

“I’m sorry?” you replied confused as to who she was speaking about.

“Merlin. I see the way that the two of you look at each other when you think no one is looking. He has become more productive just to ensure that he will have spare time to spend with you. With you, he acts lighter, truly more himself than he has in a long time. Arthur says that Merlin denies it, but it is clear as day to both of us. As he played an instrumental part in Arthur and I getting together, I figured I would return the favor,” she revealed.

“Do you honestly believe that?” you said trying to hide the rising heat in your cheeks.

“I do. Now go on and get ready for our double date” she laughed before giving you a friendly shove out of the door.

As you made your way to your quarters you could not contain the smile that was lighting up your face. The thought of you and Merlin actually being together was more than you could ever have dreamt of, the fact that you were not the only one who considered it made it more real.

As you prepared for lunch you felt childish, putting different styles in your hair getting worked up the way a child would with a crush. Out of all of the men in Camelot, Merlin was the least likely to care about that sort of thing and it was not like he didn’t already see you every day. Still…

As you walked with Gwen out to the horses, you were not surprised to hear Merlin and Arthur bantering back and forth.

“Sometimes the two of them act more like a married couple than you and Arthur,” you whispered to Gwen as you rounded the corner.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she replied laughing.

Hearing this, both Merlin and Arthur turned to face the two of you.

“You look lovely as always Guinevere, may I help you on your horse?” Arthur asked, taking her hand and smiling widely.

“Why of course,” she feigned being a wooed princess.

“Merlin, would you like me to help you on your horse?” you joked earning a laugh from the group.

The ride was short and ended in one of the lesser-known parts of the woods that Merlin had taken you during your second or third week in Camelot. Merlin had you set up the blanket and food as he took care of the horses.

“Y/n - I forgot to fill up the water, would you mind-”

“Say no more,” you answered, taking the empty pouches from him.

When you made your way back you were more than surprised to see that Merlin had set up a second picnic just in earshot of Arthur and Gwen. The fact that he’d gone through all of the extra trouble just for you…

“I’m sorry, it’s too much. I just thought… and then Arthur. But it doesn’t have to be, if it's too soon I mean if you don’t feel, I can just…” he fumbled around clearly upset that he had ever thought this was a good idea.

“Merlin,” you interrupted him forcing him to meet your eyes, “it’s absolutely lovely, and I do feel the same way, so let’s have a seat, yeah?”

Any nervousness or doubt was lost as a smile overtook his face and he sat across from you. Everything there on out went pretty smoothly, the two of you talked as you always did while enjoying the food that he had prepared. Afterward, you laid side by side looking up at the clouds and soaking in the nature that was thriving around you. Merlin ventured to take your hand in his and you just relished in the togetherness. Such an innocent act, but it felt more somehow. You honestly had no idea how long you stayed like that before you heard Arthur calling out of Merlin.

As all good things must, it was time for the picnic to come to an end. You started packing up your picnic as Merlin went over to pack up Arthur and Gwen’s. Arthur was teasing him and threw one of the water canvases beyond him.

“I think that my dog can catch better than you,” he jested.

“Perhaps that’s because you treat him better,” Merlin returned.

He went and retrieved the canvas, but was distracted by a tree that was radiating dark magic. He got closer and found a sigil lying on the ground. He was going to call for you to come check it out when Arthur interrupted his thoughts,

“Come along Merlin, your King and Queen await,” he called.

Merlin looked up to see that you had packed everything up and that Arthur and Gwen were on their horses. You sent him a questioning glance, but he knew that he would be best off to explain later. So he stood up and made his way over to you and his friends.

“Did you find it?” Arthur asked.

“What?” he replied clearly confused.

“The canvas! I swear Merlin if your head wasn’t attached…”

“Oh yes, of course, here it is,” he said showing the water container to Arthur.

Arthur nodded approvingly before turning his attention back to Gwen. You and Merlin mount your horsed and the four of you head back towards the castle.

“Everything okay Merlin?” you ask.

“Yeah of course,” he said out loud before mouthing ‘I’ll tell you later’ nodding towards Arthur and Gwen.

“Or you could tell me now” you spoke through the connection in your minds.

“I didn’t even think of using telepathy,” he replied.

“So, what happened back there?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. All I know is that there was dark and powerful magic involved. I found this,” he answered showing you the sigil.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Maybe Gaius will know something about it. We-” you were going to continue but were cut off.

“Are you two love birds okay back there? You’ve hardly said a word since we left,” Arthur observed.

“Arthur!” Gwen chastised, leaning over to punch him in the arm.

“We are doing well, just taking in the rare peace and quiet,” you answer sending Merlin a wink.

Merlin and you picked up the pace to come in closer to the king and queen and the four of you carried on a conversation until you rode into the citadel. There were villagers being helped by the knights.

“What happened?” Arthur questioned Leon.

“They have come to seek refuge from Helva.”

Arthur and Gwen immediately dismounted to help the refugees, and you and Merlin quickly took care of the horses and provisions. When you made it inside the castle, you made your way to the throne room where Arthur was learning the rest of what had happened.

“The city of Helva was attacked two days ago. Only the handful of villagers that you saw today were able to survive,” Leon explained.

“Who was responsible?” Arthur asked.

“We assumed the Saxons, but the villagers claim that magic was involved.”

“Morgana” both Merlin and I said at the same time a little too loudly causing Arthur to glance in your direction.

“Do you suspect my sister's involvement?” he returned his attention to Leon.

“The evidence would suggest so, Sire.”

“Strengthen the garrison, double the patrol at the border, and see that the refugees are well taken care of,” Arthur ordered. The knights nodded in understanding before filing out.

It was soon only you, Arthur, Gwen, and Merlin left.

“It makes no sense for Morgana to attack Helva,” Merlin spoke up.

“She must have her reasons,” Gwen replied.

“Why does it strike you as odd?” Arthur asked, his entire demeanor changed now that his knights had left.

“Helva is one of the few places where Magic is practiced freely. Why would she attack her own?”

“Perhaps she was looking for something? Maybe someone? Either way, her being this close to our borders is not good news. We should go talk to some of the villagers, come along Merlin.”

Arthur and Merlin left. And you accompanied Gwen upstairs and drew her a bath before going downstairs to arrange dinner with the kitchen staff. An uneasy feeling accompanied you for the rest of the day. And not even seeing Merlin and Arthur upon returning with the food was enough for it to subside.

After the two of you were dismissed, you went down to speak to Gaius about the sigil. He knew little more than that it was of fine workmanship that no one would part with willingly. You and Merlin decided that you would need to go back at first light to see if you could learn anything else about what happened. Knowing that you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow, you both decided to call it an early night. Merlin walked you to your quarters.

“Is everything alright? You’ve seemed off since we returned,” Merlin asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Y/n…”

“It’s nothing important Merlin, I promise.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

The two of you had made it to your door, so you decided to take the opportunity to change the subject.

“Thank you for today, the picnic was amazing,” you say trying not to blush.

“I am just glad that we finally have our feelings out in the open,” he replied venturing to take your hands in his.

“So am I,” you smiled this time completely failing to keep the heat from your cheeks.

The two of you stood like that for a moment staring at each other. You studied Merlin’s face before speaking up softly, “This is usually the part where you are supposed to say goodnight.”

He glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes. He was trying to decide whether or not he should take the leap. A good night kiss but was it too soon. He must’ve decided that it was as he started to pull away nervously before you stepped forward and caught his lips with yours. It was short and sweet.

“Goodnight Merlin,” you said quickly before turning away and entering your quarters.

You missed the ear-to-ear grin that Merlin wore all the way from your door to his own. He was glad that Gaius was already asleep upon his return as he didn’t know if he could utter coherent words at the moment.

You laid down and stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment in your head and waiting for the butterflies in your stomach to calm down. Knowing that sleep would not be your friend for some time, you decided to be productive and sneak down to the kitchen to gather some breakfast for your early morning trip.

Your concerns of earlier began once again to plague your mind. What if the who Morgana had been searching for was Emrys? Worse yet, what if it were you? You couldn’t stand the thought of more people getting hurt because of you. The alternative was not much better, if she was looking for something it was most likely something that would soon put Merlin or Arthur in danger. Knowing that your mind was troubled was enough to lead you to check in on Arthur, so you proceeded to the lookout where you were not surprised to find him.

He was however completely taken by surprise to be disturbed and nearly took your head off.

“Woah there your majesty, it’s just me,” you said.

“Y/n? What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Merlin told me this is where you go to think when something is troubling you-”

“I should have him in the stocks for revealing my private affairs. It’s surely a form of treason,” he joked half-heartedly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Whatever is troubling you. I know I am only a servant, but my ear listens as well as any other.”

“You know you are not ‘only a servant’, I value your counsel as well as your friendship, I am just not sure that you would understand.”

“Well, if I had to guess, I would say that you are feeling torn and a bit guilty. You have your duties as a king to protect your people and Camelot. You know to do so will inevitably put you against Morgana who you want more than anything to believe is still able to be saved/redeemed. So now you are here wondering where it all went wrong, wondering if in the moment you will have what it takes if you are still the king you always promised yourself you would be. Am I close?”

By the look on Arthur's face, you could see that you were, so you continued, “Morgana made her choices and there is nothing that you can do to change that. There is nothing wrong about wanting to save the sister you grew up with and loved. You just have to find a way to come to terms with the fact that she is no longer that person. She has allowed fear and hatred to corrupt her. You are protecting Camelot and the people you love from a sorcerer who has every intention of ending life as you know it through whatever means necessary. If you have to face her, you will do the right thing without hesitation, because that is who you are, Arthur Pendragon. You are the greatest king to rule Camelot. You will bring peace to the land, and unite Albion. Your friends believe in you, your people believe in you, now it is time for you to believe in yourself.”

There was something about the way you spoke that made Arthur feel as though every word was true. It was like you had already seen everything play out and came back to give him the courage he needed. His doubts faded away and he felt more sure of himself than he had in a long time. “Thank you,” he replied at a loss for better words as he was still taking in the weight of yours.

“There is no need for thanks Sire,” you replied bowing in sincere respect before taking your leave. By the time you made it back to your quarters, you were exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

It did not feel like long before Merlin was gently shaking you awake. You retrieved the pack of food that you retrieved the night before and made your way to the horses Merlin had readied. You both rode quickly to where you had picnicked only the day before. The tree stump, the sigil, and the feeling that accompanied it, there was something to be said about it. And if that something would in any way help you in the fight against Morgana, or to protect Arthur and Camelot then you had to see it out. You didn’t know exactly what Merlin was looking for, but you were pretty sure that he was not expecting what he found.

It was just as he was beginning to search the area that the first of Morgana’s men came with his sword barrelling down at Merlin. Behind him at least seven more who managed to scare off your horses. That was not an issue, as you and Merlin were easily able to fight them off with your magic. The problem was that one of them had stayed behind and had a crossbow. You managed to take him out, but not before Merlin was shot. You immediately whipped around and took out the man behind the crossbow. Using your magic to make sure that there was no one else before turning back to Merlin whose face was already paling as he stumbled forward towards you.

“Hey there, take it easy, just lie back,” you said as you guided him to the ground. His only response was painful groaning.

“Okay Merlin, I’m going to pull this out. But we have to keep moving, those men won’t be alone, Morgana may even be nearby. But for now, we at least have the advantage of the fact that no one alive besides us knows that we were here.”

Without warning, you clasped one hand over his mouth and pulled out the arrow. Merlin’s muffled yells broke your heart but you didn’t have time, not right now, not if you were going to save him.

“I’m sorry, I really am, but we have to get going, as soon as we are far enough away I can heal you.”

“Where will we go?” Merlin asked, already noticeably weaker.

“To the watchtower just past the ridge. We can take shelter there long enough for me to heal you and for Morgana and her men to leave.”

Merlin nodded before using his sword to help him stand.

“Can you walk?” you asked as you helped him up.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, voice strained.

“Okay, here we go,” you said as you put his arm over your shoulder and helped support his weight. The walk took you nearly twice as long as it should have. You found Merlin some cover to rest in while you went ahead to make sure it was safe. You returned and hoisted him up, “We are almost there, and then everything will be okay I promise.”

When the two of you made it inside you were faced with a new problem...the winding staircase. You made it about halfway up before Merlin stumbled. You tried to help him up but he refused.

“Come on Merlin, we can’t stop here. Morgana’s men will be here shortly.”

“I just - I just need a minute,” he decided before asking, “How do you know this place anyways?”

“It is one of the places I stayed after what happened to my father.”

You could tell that Merlin was going to say something else, but the dogs heard in the distance were enough to still his tongue.

“Okay, minute over. We have to get up to the roof,” you said as you helped Merlin up.

By the time you got Merlin up to the roof, he was all but unconscious. You worried that through your journey his injury became worse, or maybe you had misjudged it initially. You wanted to heal him, but you had a bigger problem to deal with first. Morgana and her men had entered the tower. Knowing that they would see Merlin’s blood, Morgana was unlikely to leave until she searched every inch of it herself. You could try to seal her out, but you didn’t want to test whose power was stronger today. Especially when Merlin was unable to defend himself if you failed. Instead, you held a concealment spell, which took a significant amount of effort with two people.

“They were here! Emerys or Phúlax, maybe even both of them, and you let them slip away!” Morgana raged. You were beginning to get lightheaded and prayed that they would exit the roof.

“They couldn’t have gone far, maybe they saw us coming and took off again. We can search the surrounding areas, M’lady,” a brave knight suggested. That was all it took for Morgana to order all of her men back to their horses and into the woods to continue their search.

As soon as she was out of earshot you released the concealment. The sudden relief almost caused you to pass out, but you forced yourself over to Merlin. In the entirety of your life, you had never remembered feeling as drained as you did at that moment. But that didn’t matter, you were going to save him. As you said the healing enchantments, your power was leaving you. It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, but you pushed on knowing that if you allowed yours to close before you were done that his would never open again. As the last words left your mouth, you collapsed in exhaustion praying to any and everything that it had worked.

You vaguely remembered being picked up. You were scared and preparing yourself for the worst until you heard Merlin’s voice. It was distant and muffled, but you could tell that it was his. You were brought comfort in the fact that no matter what happened to you that he was going to be okay. The next thing you remembered was feeling weightless and then another voice, one much more powerful and wise speaking. There was then a sensation, unlike anything that you’d ever felt before.

“She will be okay, though she will need time to recover fully. What she did was no small feat, something I am not even sure you could have survived young Warlock.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I would have got her back here without your help,” Merlin replied.

You were finally able to force your eyes open only to see the most magnificent dragon standing before you.

“Ahhh, our friend is finally awake. It is a pleasure to meet you Phúlax.”

“You must be Kilgarrah,” you replied, trying to sit up before gasping in pain.

“Lie still young one, your body is weak and my magic works slowly.”

“Thank you for saving us,” you nod towards the dragon.

“You are the one I should thank for without you I would be without a dragon lord. But I should go, Courage and Strength are nearly here. Be warned young warlock the great war is nearly upon us. And Phúlax, your time is nearing,” he said before flying away.

“Wait! What does that mean?” Merlin called out, but it was to know avail.

His attention was redirected to you as you started coughing. He was by your side in an instant. “Hey, take it easy everything is going to be fine.” He squeezed your hand reassuringly, trying to ignore the fact that it was freezing. He trusted that Kilgarah was right and that his friends were on their way. And if on cue, familiar voices came into earshot.

“Merlin? Y/n?” you heard Gwaine call out.

“How many times are you going to call for them?” Arthur asked, slightly amused.

“Until they answer,” Gwaine said, his bravado attempting to hide his concern, “Merlin? Y/n?”

“We’re here,” Merlin called.

Gwaine and Arthur dismounted their horses and came down to where Merlin and you were situated, at this point you were practically unconscious again.

“What happened?” Arthur asked at once.

“Gaius sent Y/n and I out to get herbs before breakfast and we were caught by Morgana’s men. We escaped, but Y/n was hit by a direct blast from Morgana. We need to get her back to Gaius,” Merlin lied.

Luckily Arthur bought it no questions asked, any doubts he had overtaken by concern for you.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed. You glanced around and decided that it had to be at least midday. You would be lying if you said that you were a little disappointed not to see Merlin first thing when you woke up. But you pushed that feeling aside and prepared yourself for the day. You made your way downstairs to see if Gaius had any idea where your favorite Warlock was, but as soon as you opened the door your question was answered.

Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, Leon, and Gaius were all there standing around the body of a knight. The skin on his face had grown over his face until he would have suffocated.

“In the old days this was a punishment known as Ragaid, it came only from the high priestess herself, an ultimate warning to her enemies,” Gaius explained.

“What does it mean?” Arthur asked.

“It means that Morgana has declared war,” you said, alerting everyone in the room of your presence for the first time.

[trellanyx]

Dark!Stolas AU

I started to send a prompt to @vizowrites​ after reading the latest installment of her Dark!Stolas AU, then realized I wanted to write it instead. lol This is meant to be a direct sequel to Where You Belong. Thanks for letting me play in the sandbox for a bit bb!

Fic Warnings: This is an AU where Blitzo does not want to have sex with Stolas, and only does so in order to have continued access to the grimoire. Stolas has no qualms about using this leverage to keep Blitzo in line, or ignoring Blitzo’s boundaries. Nothing sexual happens in this fic, but if you don’t like reading fics based off this premise, this isn’t for you. Like the title says, Stolas is not a good person here.

“And you,” Stolas said, his gaze flashing back to Striker with a near break-neck speed, flashing in a surge of barely contained power that still seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. “While I admire that terribly forceful nature of yours, I highly suggest that you remember just to whom you are speaking. And just to whom you owe your continued opportunities that keep your schedules oh so busy. Which reminds me, darling Blitzy….bring the book with you to our next meeting.”

“Blitzy! There you are, darling.”

Regrettably, Blitzo thought. He placed the book on its usual place on the nightstand and shucked off his coat. Stolas loved it when his favorite toy showed such ‘enthusiasm’, not noticing, or perhaps not caring, that Blitzo’s only motivation was to get the night over with as quickly as possible.

He didn’t know which option was worse.

“Look, can we skip the roleplay tonight? My back has been bitching at me all day.”

Stolas giggled. “Ah yes. Isn’t that post-coital ache just delightful? I know my best mornings always happen when I can’t walk straight.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. In the beginning, he’d respond to comments like that with something along the lines of, “I hear a good ass whooping produces the same result”, but Stolas always interpreted those retorts as encouragement, and Blitzo eventually stopped bothering. He nodded to where Stolas was decadently sprawled along a twilight-violet chaise. “That the spot you’ve decided on?”

“As thrilling as it is to be the center of such undivided attention,” purred Stolas, “I’d actually prefer we take things slower tonight. It feels like ages since we’ve had the chance to simply…talk.” Stolas’s eyes gleamed scarlet, all four of them pinned directly on Blitzo. “Given both of our busy schedules, after all.”

Blitzo stiffened, feeling his stomach shrivel with a sudden chill of terror.

“Stolas--”

“Sit, please,” said the prince, waving a hand at a matching armchair Blitzo knew hadn’t been there a moment ago. “I’m as eager to receive your glorious cock as you are to give it to me, but another need must be satisfied first.”

The words tumbled out of Blitzo so quickly they nearly slurred together. “If this is about what happened at the office, I swear--”

“I said sit.”

Blitzo’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He power-walked to the chair, unwilling to risk finding out what Stolas might do if he thought Blitzo was taking too long. But Stolas only giggled again, as if seeing Blitzo so flustered was cute.

“Though since you bring it up, I would like to discuss what happened when I last tried to visit you. I fear there may be some…misunderstanding among your employees about just what our relationship is like, Blitzy.”

“We don’t have a relationship, Stolas,” snapped Blitzo. “We have an arrangement. I fuck you, you don’t fuck over my business. Cut and fucking dry.”

Stolas clucked his tongue. “Blitzy, we are lovers. You could at least try to put in a little romantic effort outside the bedroom.”

Blitzo bared his teeth. “I’m plenty romantic,” he said, in a moment of reckless defiance. “Just not with you.”

Stolas blinked, and Blitzo nearly bit through his own tongue. He did not, however, take back the words. He was engaged now, for fuck’s sake. And the memory of his fiancé almost spitting in the eyes of demon royalty was enough to give Blitzo just enough courage to wipe out his remaining fucks.

You wanna talk, bitch? Fine. Let’s talk.

Stolas tapped a claw against his thigh. “Are you now?” he asked, terribly soft. Blitzo opened his mouth to snarl back, but it hung open when Stolas suddenly beamed and said, “Why Blitzy, that’s wonderful!”

“….It is?”

“Of course!” trilled Stolas. “I’m so happy to hear there are other paramours in your life! Not surprised, of course, my dear little imp. Who could possibly resist such a beautiful and wickedly talented creature like yourself?” He laughed gaily. “I wondered why that fiery little fellow seemed so testy last we met. Jealousy, hm?” Stolas gave a sage little hoot. “I understand, Blitzy. Love makes fools of us all.”

Blitzo couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. “Striker, jealous of you? Listen bitch--”

“Blitzy, darling, it’s alright,” Stolas soothed. “I understand.”

Blitzo raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Do ya now?

“It’s not the first time I’ve been threatened over our little courtship,” said Stolas, still smiling. “At least he didn’t throw something at me! Poor Seymour,” he sighed. “Two centuries of care, gone in a blink and a crash. Fortunately my reflexes are better than my wife’s aim!”

“…Am I on drugs?” Blitzo wondered. “Is Verosika about to pop out with a horse head or somethin’? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, that’d actually be a pretty sweet upgrade for her.”

“Silly imp,” giggled Stolas. “Well! Now that that little bit of unpleasantness has been cleared up, I say we move on to more enjoyable activities. How about some refreshments before we start?”

Blitzo withheld a groan. Feeding each other was one of Stolas’s favorite forms of foreplay. He’d constantly nip at or suck on Blitzo’s fingers, to say nothing of how often he’d pretend to feed Blitzo a strawberry or something before replacing it with his mouth at the last second. But if it got Stolas to stop asking questions about his and Striker’s relationship, Blitzo was up for anything.

“Just no strawberries, okay? Last time they made me break out in hives.”

“Alas, tonight I’m simply thirsty.” Stolas pulled a silver bell from his robe and gave it a dainty ring. Then he winked at Blitzo and added, “Of course, that’s always my mood when you’re on my mind.”

A servant imp appeared almost instantaneously, carrying a tray with two shimmering glasses of wine.

“I really do feel much better now,” said Stolas, taking his glass.

“Good for you,” deadpanned Blitzo as the servant turned his way. “Now can we get on with--”

CRASH!

“FUCK!” Blitzo scrambled backward, tripping over the arm of the chair and falling onto the floor. His claws scratched the tile as he scooted backwards on his ass, away from the servant who was now a solid block of stone. Blitzo’s wineglass was shattered on the ground. Why…why did it look like the exact shade of blood?

Stolas took a long, indulgent sip of his own wine. “Wiggles, this is Blitzy. Blitzy, Wiggles.”

“Stolas, what the fuck?!”

“Wiggles hasn’t been with me as long as Seymour was,” Stolas continued, not needing to raise his voice to talk over Blitzo’s panicked yelling. “I daresay Wiggles isn’t even his name, but that’s neither here nor there.”

The prince unfolded his unnaturally long legs and walked around the statue of Wiggles. “He’s a good servant, as far as imps go. Obedient, polite, deferential…he knows his place in the world and is content with it. Like Seymour was.” Stolas placed a hand on the top of Wiggles’s stone head. “And like Seymour…”

Blitzo realized what was coming a split second too late. “DON’T--!”

Stolas lightly pushed, and Wiggles fell forward. There was a sick crack when the statue hit the ground, and Blitzo watched in horror as Wiggles’s now detached head lay face-first in the puddle of wine. Stolas waved his hand, and the rest of the body crumbled into dust and rubble.

“Gone in a blink and a crash,” finished Stolas.

There was no flirting or good-natured silliness to Stolas now. He stared down at Blitzo with cold disappointment. Blitzo barely dared to breathe, let alone move.

“Let’s not forget what our actual roles are, my precious little imp,” murmured Stolas. “You are exceedingly good at what you can do with your body, and because of that, I allow your little family venture to succeed. Every time you rendezvous with the world above, you pay your way with my magic. Your daughter sleeps under a roof built from my generosity. Your lover fucks you in a bed gifted by my mercy. I could rip everything away from you, Blitzo. Everything you’ve ever touched. I wouldn’t even have to leave this room.”

Stolas knelt down, ignoring the way Blitzo flinched back. “But I don’t do that, darling. Because I love you. You’ve brought excitement and joy back into my world the likes of which I haven’t felt since my daughter was born. Of all my collections and all of my toys, you are my favorite.”

A crimson glow slowly bled into existence until it outlined Stolas’s entire body. Blitzo couldn’t look away from him, and wasn’t entirely sure that Stolas wasn’t making that possible. The air seemed to constrict around him, making his temples pound and his nose bleed.

“What you do with your time is your own business, Blitzo. But when I call on you, full moon or not, I expect you to answer,” whispered Stolas. The use of Blitzo’s full name stung him like a brand. “When I ask for privacy, I expect to not be interrupted. Above all, I expect you to make sure your associates know their place around us – and mind it. Do you understand?”

Blitzo jerked his head in as much of a nod as he could manage.

“They may hiss and spit all they like, but they will stay out of our way. Else I will remove them myself, and I will make you watch. Do you understand?”

Another nod.

“Say it, Blitzy.”

“…I understand,” said Blitzo through gritted teeth. The moment he did, the air returned to normal, leaving Blitzo gasping for air like a drowning man. Stolas finished his wine, and looked out the balcony window behind Blitzo.

“Ah! And there’s the moon. What a beautiful sight – not as lovely as you, of course.” Stolas cupped Blitzo’s cheek, looking at him with a familiar expression of lust. “Come darling,” he purred. “The night is still young, after all.”

[2manyfandoms2count]

Truth opening translation

Translation for the leaked Truth opening 👀 This is going to be a very interesting episode!! I love the references to les Visiteurs (brilliant French movie)

Marinette: So all the kwamis live inside [the Miracle box]?

Tikki: yes, except for Nooroo and Duusuu who are captives of the bad guys.

Marinette: Nut Master Fu never let them out?

Tikki: only kwamis who have a holder, like me, can go out in the human world, Marinette!

Marinette: but aren't they a little cramped in there?

Tikki: of course not, there's a whole parallel universe inside! But it's a lot more interesting to be here, in the outside world with you, the human world is so much more inventive!

Marinette: *clicks the button*

*Happy Kwami noises*

Marinette: I thought they couldn't get out!

Tikki: now that you're the Guardian, the box is like you - full of surprises! It's really incredible!

Tikki, to a Kwami: hey, Marinette made that for me!

Marinette, to Trixx: hey, that's my diary!

Daizzy, clicking the lights on and off: Night, day, night, day!

Ziggy, holding Marinette's phone: hey this is cool, it plays music!!

Marinette: careful, that's my phone!

Kaalki: Incredible, come and see this! Carts move on their own here! There isn't a single horse to pull them!

Random kid on the street: Mum, look!

Marinette: *awkward laugh* it's a talking soft toy prototype, but it's not for sale!

Nadja Chamack: Paris is getting ready to celebrate Prince Ali's birthday...

Alya: Marinette?

Marinette: Oh, Alya! What do think of my soft toy?

Alya: What soft toy?

Marinette: well, um...

Tikki: Marinette, we're magical creatures, we can't be seen or heard on the screens of your world!

Ziggy: Awww that's why I can't see myself on these magical paintings!

Marinette: okay, so she can only see me and I look completely ridiculous, is that it?

Alya: Marinette, are you sure everything's alright?

Marinette: Ahh hey girls! I'm super happy to see you! This is the perfect time to have a conversation!

Rose: Oh, can you show us your new soft toys??

Marinette: Um, I don't see what you're talking about...

Alya: Are you feeling okay?

Roaar: Why are your friends prisoners of this screen?

Daizzy: they're so cute, I want the front one as a holder!

Trixx: too late, she's already taken!

Mullo: why is Trixx allowed to have a holder and not us?

Alya: Marinette, you're even weirder than usual

Marinette: it's just that I'm exercising! I've invented a new series of workouts that are very difficult to... warm up before making soft toys!

Mylène: you should go for a walk, you look completely overworked

Alya: wait a minute... wild gesticulation, ridiculous stammering, weird excuse, exaggerated clumsiness... Is Adrien at your place?!

[kisilinramblings]

Vérité / Truth translation

First scene in Marinette’s room

------

Marinette : So, all Kwamis live inside?

Tikki : Yes, except for Nooroo and Duusu who are taken prisoners by the bad guys.

Marinette : Master Fu never let them out?

Tikki : Only Kwamis who have an Holder like me can go out in the human world, Marinette.

Marinette : But aren't they cramped in there?

Tikki: Oh no, of course not. There is a whole parallel universe inside. But it is way more interesting to be here with you. The human world is so much more inventive!

Kwamis : Yeah! Woo-hoo!

Marinette : I thought they couldn't get out?

Tikki : Now that you are the Guardian, the Miracle Box is at your image -- full of surprises! It's incredible!

Mullo (snatching Tikki's hat) : Thanks Tikki!

Tikki : Hey! Marinette made it for me!

Marinette : Hey! That's my diary!

Daizzi : Day! Night! Day! Night! Day! Night!

Ziggy : Woah! This makes music!

Marinette : Careful with my phone!

Kaalki : Incredible! Take a look at this. The carriages move by themselves here. There is not a single horse to pull them.

Kid : Mom, look!

Marinette : Huh... It's the prototype of a talkative plushie but it's not for sell!

Nadja : The city of Paris is about to celebrate the famous Prince Ali's birthday--

Alya : Marinette?

Marinette : Oh, Alya! What do you think of my plushie? Cute, isn't it?

Alya : What plushie?

Marinette : Well, huh...

Tikki : Marinette, we are magical creatures. We cannot be heard or seen on screens of your world.

Ziggy : Oh! So that's why we don't see me on this magical painting.

Marinette (through her teeth) : Okay... so they only see me and I look completely ridiculous, is that it?

Alya : Marinette, are you sure everything is all right?

Marinette : Hi girls! I am so happy to see you. It's the perfect moment to have a conversation.

Rose : Say, can you show us your new plushie?

Marinette : I don't see what you are talking about. Woah! Ouch!

Alya : Are you feeling okay, Marinette?

Roarr : Why are your friends trapped inside this image?

Daizzi : They are so cute! I want the one in the front as my Holder.

Trixx : Too late, already taken.

Mullo : Why is Trixx allowed to have an Holder but not us?

Alya : Marinette, you are even weirder than usual.

Marinette : Hehe... I'm just doing exercices. I've created a series of exercices... It's a super difficult series for... warming up before working on the plushies!

Mylène : You should take a breather instead. You look overworked.

Alya : Hold on a sec. Disorganized gesticulations, ridiculous ramblings, weird excuses, doubly exaggerated clumsiness...

All the girls : *gasp* Is Adrien at your place?!

Marinette : What? Of course not!

(Phone rings, Ziggy drops it and Marinette catches it)

Marinette : Luka?

(Marinette trips and accidently hangs up her video chat)

All the girls : Luka!

Juleka : *speaks* (translator note : her dialog is completely unintelligible for the audience)

Alya, Rose, Mylène : Oh! That is so cute!

[idjitlili]

I can be the God of your Orgasm.

Loki x reader

(Not my image)

Summary:Some how ending up in Sakaar ,Valkyrie ends up taking you under her wing,no not her horse Aragorn,for a year ,until some Gods show up.

Word count:1768

Warnings:Language

A/n: Couldn’t end it , last time I touched this was October. Uhm, there’s a picture of Bowie, probably TMI here, but he was the first man , I ever you know over.Double aswell. I’m sorry.

You just a young woman in y/c ,heading to college your average routine ,but you never made it. Instead you had tripped over into a puddle ,but yet again you were decieved ,it was a portal. You hadn't/only left your country ,let alone been on another planet. You didn't think that was even possible;magic nor to be able to breathe on an different planet,well that was what you were told by the government. No you weren't a flat earther,thats bloody stupid. However you felt like the government hid a lot.

Michael Jacksons death,Heath Ledgers death,River Phoenix's death, Princess Diana's death , David Bowie, Obi-wan,it just seemed a little suspicous, not saying it was definitely them covering up the murders but...

Anyways so you fell into the puddle into a some rubbish ,literal rubbish. You had no idea what happened ,when Valkyrie found you she didn't either. God damn Benedict cumpatch stay in america with your fake american accent. Just stay away ,don't really want to be assassainated for being best buds with Sherlock Holmes and Dildo Gaggins.

Valkyrie had felt bad for such a young mortal being in an strange planet,she couldn't bare to bring you to Grandmaster ,to be apart of his orgies. he was indeed a tough warrior much like Dwalin the dwarf from the hobbit,who funfact is the longest living dwarf living up to 300 years,yes irrelvent.

Thus, you lived with her ,you managed to get a part time job as a cook,just so you didn't feel so bad about living with Valkyrie rent free. When I say part time cook ,I mean you just cooked for you and her,you didn't trust this planet. It was lucky when you fell in that puddle the stuff in your backpack didn't get wet,so you had some books to read,and such.

To be far being away from home stuck on an alien planet really did get boring ,you'd hate to admit it but sometimes you had to go to visit Hulk,because he was sorta normal. No he was not but he was okay ,like a destructive toddler but it was better than being alone. Other than that you really missed home ,you missed tv,you missed ice cream.

Pretty much everyday was boring. Well after almost a year of being here ,Valkyrie had brought a guest to your shared apartment thing. The God you had seen on the television a couple years ago. You had been sitting on the sofa reading at the time ,you jumped so hard when the door slammed open,you had looked up to see valkyrie shoving down a dark haired man in chains.

"Uhhh, are you allowed to kidnap people here?" you had questioned ,causing Valkyrie and the guy turn to you ,you had recognised him after a moment of trying to pin point his face. "I don't think that will hold him...h-he's-"

"Just stay away from him ,don't talk to him,don't look at him,hell don't even think about him,I will be back with Thor ,and then we can get you home, Y/n. So pack your things ." Soon as she had mentioned going home you had already started gathering your things,as Valkyrie had left after the God of Thunder. No you didn't go to the big battle compitions and Valkyrie certainly did not tell you she had found Thor ,but it didn't matter you were going home.

It didn't take you long to pack soon,you had your shoes on and everything sitting on the sofa ,twiddling your thumbs,feeling Loki's gaze on you. What's up with in love stories men staring , oh shut up you are just jealous because you can't even get a boyfriend ,stupid scribe.

"she said not to think about you...can you read minds?" you had questioned ,just really because that gaze he had on you made you feel proper ugly ,in which you were not. He had scoffed at you.

"I'm not a witch."

"I never said you were,you are a God ,must be better than having a hammer, it's like a normal hammer with steriods."

"Ah..so you have heard of me," He had smirked to himself ,you had just looked back at you hands before reaching for your bag grabbing your journal and ink,before just scribbing doodles on a clean page.Loki didn't speak after that not until you did again ten minutes later ,probably less time goes slow when the mood is a drag.

"the thing with new York, that was because of Thanos? People have controlled me by making me feel guilty so many times..OH manipulation ,you probably don't want to hear what I have to say,but I can't help it ,i've been stuck here a year the only person I got to speak to is drunk Valkyrie and hulk in which I feel like I am talking to a child. You know what I really wish I was watching Lord of the rings right-"

"You are from earth,how did you end up here?" He had grinned at you,cutting you off,isn't he like a mass murderer? Well he was tricked into doing it ,so more like accidental murderer ,why is he so handsome. Don't be stupid he is a God of course he is handsome.

"Uh..I fell into a puddle then I was here." The God had turned his head away to the floor ,scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion.

"I don't see how that's possible."

"Well it happene-" Yet you were cut off again,as the door slammed open,you quickly turned away back to your notebook,Thor ,Bruce and Valkyrie stood at the door.

You missed what happened first ,Loki having things thrown at him ,and such,you only looked up when he said something about spaceships,seeing Bruce. Your eyes glittered with excitement , Thor saw this. "Oh my! I can't believe it's-2 Thor had shook his head for you not say it. "Radiation scientist,Bruce Banner, damn,now I must say this is much more exciting than a hammer,which you don't have what's up with that? Hey Bruce how you feeling?Green? Darn, imagine being strongest Avenger!"

Thor had scoffed at you,"Does she always talk this much?"Bruce had made his way over to you smiling at you as you stood up. "It is so cool to meet you mister Banner."

"Thank you miss..." "Y/n" He had smiled at you again before turning to Thor ,"see strongest Avenger,yep that's me."

"well then ,let' hope we can get home,just first we are to go to Asgard."

***

"Valkyrie ,I'm going to stay with Dwayne Johnson,I have no fighting skills so it's better if come I after," you had gestured to Korg.

"Alright then, I'll see you if I don't die" And with that she left you with the aliens,smiling up to them.

"The revolution has begun."

***

"Hey, what's this?"

"Thank you." You had stood next to Korg as he had powered down the taser device on Loki's body,you had stood rocking on your balls of your feet in excitement to get home.

"Hey,man. We're about to jump on that ginormous spaceship. You wanna come?" Loki had jumped up,his hair a messy ,from the intense pain he had just suffered,from betraying his brother yet again.

"well you do seem like you're in desperate need of leadership." The smirk was interweaved into his voice, smooth as his greasy hair.

"Why, thank you."

"Hurry up! It has been too long since I've seen the dance seen in the james franco spiderman three!" You rushed forwards grabbing a hold of the mischief makers arm dragging him towards the ship. "Talkative and touchy," Loki just allowed you to drag him,with him supposively being evil,grinning.

***

"uhhh, what's the chances of as all dying horribly? Do you think if i pretend to be dead she wouldn't notice?" Loki was driving the space ship,whilst you sat in the seat next to him,all the alien people sat or stood behind. You really be riding shotgun on a spaceship,it was you or korg.

Loki did not answer you , yet just slightly smiled glancing to you briefly, not a good sign, you'd think with two Gods you'd be fine ,but clearly not. "Hey do you think if Thor had to fight I don't know- AHH" You weren't sure who you meant to say as you face planted into the spaceship's floor,as Loki's flying had stopped so suddenly causing a jolt. You had laughed to your lesson quietly,patheticly in honesty ,covering up how embarrassing that was.

You felt as if you were Mantis ,when Drax had informed her to watch out after she got hit in the face.  All you could think was there's like a bunch of aliens on this ship and it's guaranteed at least 3 have just seen you face plant.  "Okay , that makes me wish that I was on Thors spaceship right now." Your hair in your face, forearms pressed against the cold metal floor.

"What does he have that I don't?" His voice seeped with sarcasm, okay maybe not he was probably just annoyed that a midgardian was aboard and could not shut up.

"He probably can fly this thing better, well it's probably Bruce but that's even better , do you even know how many PHDs he has?"

"Honestly I do not know and do not care."

"Wow that's not very nice . He has..wait I dont -" The smirk on Loki's face was stamped deep, as he pulled you out of your concentration by doing so. "Shut up I bet you say to all your lovers, ‘If you givee a chance I can be the god of your orgasm’” Honestly you don’t know what made you think of that , something tells you it’s to do with a dude that reads a lot of smut named Blake. Actually the author doesn’t know if he does but..

“Thank you darling, for the new material.”

[malaks-perch]

pomegranates and sugar

julian devorak x reader

a crazy night with your favorite doctor

warnings: fluff?? pretty domestic actually for something about murder talk about a sweat drop

a/n: i didn't plan for this to go this way, i played it by ear

this was not how the night was supposed to go.

"now before you do that light up magic thing, you have to promise me that you will be calm and rational" julian's words coming slow and careful as he stayed hidden in an alley next to the rowdy raven.

"i'm always calm and rational." came your response as you tried to get closer to where he'd tucked himself behind barrels.

julian stepped out of the shadows and into the dim lighting at the mouth of the alley. you dropped your bag upon seeing him.

blood was everywhere. drenching his clothes, staining his face, arms, even legs. his patch was nowhere to be found and both of his stunning grey eyes stared at you.

"who the hell did—" he cupped a clean hand over your mouth whilst his finger hovered over his mouth.

"i was doing an act at the theater and it turned into a brawl, the fake pomegranate juice got everywhere and it clumped to me when people started throwing disgusting powdered candy."

he brought his hand to his lips, licking up the vermillion substance and crushing a fiery kiss to your lips before you could think.

he was right. sugary popping candy nearly drowned out any taste of pomegranate on julian's tongue. it was sweet, but the kiss was far from it. when he pulled away, you blinked still trying to register what happened and the kiss julian nearly got you drunk off of.

"but this blood might become very real as there was a very angry patron who—"

"julian, what the hell?"

he pulled you both into the shadows, nodding and running a hand through his hair. "you're right. i'm so sorry. how are you tonight, love? you look ravish... why do you look more beautiful than usual? who is this for?"

he raised a brow as he examined you. one of his white shirts hung loosely on you and a wine colored vest portia graciously found in mazelinka's old chest. paired with pants that really showed off everything from the waist down.

"you're in costume?"

"valerius has that party-"

julian cringed. the one he promised to escort you to. you even asked him what to dress up as and here you were, a nevivion pirate. you'd even drawn the symbol most pirates wore on your neck.

guilt flushed through him and his heart sank into his chest. he had gone to the theater for a play and completely forgotten about his duties to be your date for the night.

this was not how the night was supposed to go.

"it's alright—"

"no, love. i.. you were really looking forward to seeing asra"

it shouldn't have hurt so bad when he said it, but bringing it up made you feel a bit of an ache. you hadn't seen asra in nearly a year from the constant travelling around with julian.

you brushed it off, cupping his face and wiping pomegranite from his cheek. the small smile you offered only made julian feel worse.

"there will be more opportunities."

julian cupped your cheek, but before he could respond someone shouted behind you both. "we should actually be running right now!"

both of you took off in a sprint, weaving through alleys and dodging people on streets. julian did the latter as his long limbs would bump people every now and again as he tried not to trip over himself.

they were getting closer when julian bolted left into an alley, pulling you with him when you pulled him back into an empty building.

"i think they went this way!"

both of you were panting, trying to cool yourselves down in spite of how close your bodies were pressed against the wall.

julian was muttering out apologies for potentially ruining your entire night when you finally managed to wheeze out your laughter.

"that was amazing!" you cupped his cheeks and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips making julian grin and raise his brow.

"usually when people are about to get murdered, amazing isn't the word they would use to describe it." julian smiled as he leaned over where you were leaned on the wall. his arm by your head as his face dipped closely to yours. "maybe it's all the adrenaline, my dear."

"adrenaline ashmenaline. that was better than any party i could've gone to." you smiled, leaning up so your faces were inches apart. "i want to go again."

"well, well, well... it seems we've found our old friend doctor devorak and.. who is this lovely creature?" one of them grinned from the doorway of the empty building.

"it looks like you'll have that chance, love!" julian tugged you out of a window, you stumbled, but the same man that was nearly tripping himself tugged you beneath an arm and sprinted down the alleyway.

with julian's arm holding you by the waist close to his side, you could see the frantic men running behind him with swords out and arms raised.

you twisted out of his arm to run beside him, "what on earth did you do?!"

"they didn't take kindly to poetry about their ships!"

in front of you, you spied two horses hauling a wagon with stacked barrells. you practically shoved julian towards the wagon, both of you climbing up the structure as you muttered a spell that made the barrells go tumbling towards the men.

the wagon collapsed and both of you jumped on the horses. they reared and you'd both taken off towards the markets, racing each other as the men themselves still tried to catch you.

"we should do this every night!" julian shouted as you guided your horse to take lead through vesuvia's busy streets.

"every night?! and miss a good night's sleep?" you glanced back at him, but the one glance made your heart swell.

julian's brows furrowed and a daring smile on his face. his tall figure was leaned forward on the chestnut horse he rode. a confident smile on his face as he passed you to take lead.

it was rare for him to ever look like this even in his most comfortable state. here, in the middle of danger, high on adrenaline, and running from pirates, julian looked his best.

this was not how the night was supposed to go.

"a fair point! this way!" you'd turned right and bolted out towards the higher classes of vesuvia.

you slowed down, julian laughing as he reached over and took your hand. both your steeds huffing and grumbling as they slowed.

"amazing. quite a show you put on there, y/n." he smiled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before he leaned forward murmuring praises to the horse.

"i think we stole a couple of horses, julian." you sighed as you tangled your fingers in the mane of your steed.

"tomorrow, my love." julian sighed, casting you a warm smile. "we worry tomorrow."

you turned your eyes to the houses around you. beautiful, elegant homes were built here. the aqeuducts looked cleaner, the sidewalk looked as if you could eat off of it.

"it's beautiful here." julian smiled, mindlessly threading one of his hands through the mane of the horse he rode.

"would you like a house here, ilya?"

his given name usually would've made him fluster, but this time around he smiled. a sigh coming from his lips, "i would love for pasha to have a home here. i don't think our children would care too much for being royalty."

"our children?"

julian nodded without missing a beat. he flushed then when he realized what he was suggesting, "only if you're open to the idea."

"i'll run it by my council."

he chuckled, turning so you saw the fond smile dancing on his lips.

with both his eyes on display so outwardly, it was a little overwhelming. paired with that soft smile? your heart raced at the mere sight of him. how could you not? he'd come so far as to be this confident.

"you saved my life." his bowed deeply, nearly falling off his horse. "how may i ever repay my beautiful hero?"

there he was. your ever dramatic doctor pirate.

"promise me we will be together forever and always." you clenched a hand over your heart, gazing up to beautiful stars above.

"it is forbidden!" julian cried out in agony, thrusting a hand into his hair. "for we may never be together as long as we live in amongst the rules of this damned nation! my sister wouldn't allow it—"

"yes, she would—"

"oh, how she would strangle me for—"

"refusing my hand."

groans and insults thrown from windows. you and julian took off in a fit of laughter, rushing down the streets until you'd come upon a path sheltered by brillant oaks.

both you and julian had taken the time to get off your horses and walk down the wide road. one hand entwined with his while the two of you lead your horses.

"should we ever be in that position, i would run away with you." you confessed.

julian furrowed his brows, shaking his head. "my love, i would never want you to give up everything you know to be with me."

"and i would never want you to give up everything you know to be alone." you smiled, pulling his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. "i would know that you wouldn't be alone and that would be better than casting you off to suffer in isolation."

julian's eyes were shut when he tilted his head up so his face was to the sky. a shaky breath escaping his mouth before he finally decided to speak. "when you say beautiful things like that, it makes me want to give you my entire world."

"i don't understand how that would work." you tugged him close by the nape of his neck to peck his cheek. julain pulled back revealing his furrowed brows and twisted lips. "you're already my world, how could you give me more than that?"

julian stopped walking, a sticky cheek pressing to your neck. the pomegranate and sugar still lingering on his cheek from earlier.

"i gave you a night that started because of a brawl that ended with me in pomegranate juice and sugar. we get chased through vesuvia, magically steal two horses, profess our love to strangers, and here you are declaring that you want no one else, but me."

"don't forget about the part where we have children." you smiled making him laugh into your shoulder before pulling away to gaze at you with tear-filled eyes.

"the council unanimously decided?"

"the council wanted to keep the dramatics in play. they already had their answer before their brief recess."

"one of them better have my name!" portia was practically squealing as she rushed over.

nadia, asra, and muriel not far behind. muriel went straight for the horses, but not before bidding you a quiet hello.

"at least you two had fun." nadia smiled as she watched portia squeeze the air from your lungs. "as it turns out, vlastomil's worms crashed the party."

"so julian finally settles down." asra's teasing grin made the redhead smile.

"i don't think you've met my darling dear." he shot you a grin, "anyone would be lucky to stand next to them."

asra wrapped his arms around you, a gentle laugh escaping him upon finally seeing you again. "to think you would be here to tell me you were going to be parents."

nadia brushed off julian's shoulder, "i'd love to be a godmother."

"as long as i get to be the godfather." asra grinned, turning to you with a teasing smirk.

"you get to be godfather as long as you don't teach them to pester and prank people with magic."

asra shook his head, "i can't promise that."

portia laughed, picking up a stick to imitate a sword. "and i will teach them the ways of a pirate."

julian went to chastise portia when muriel's voice cut through, "and i'll teach them to properly care for horses."

asra immediately latched onto muriel, teasing him while portia and nadia discussed names. you and julian walked hand in hand down the road with your friends at your side.

babies or brawls, you wouldn't have had this night go any other way

[emsylcatac]

Translation of the first 2min of Truth

Tfou released the first two minutes of “Truth” today, and I only just got around to translate it so here you go ! (https://www.tf1.fr/tf1/miraculous/videos/miraculous-les-aventures-de-ladybug-et-chat-noir-verite-premieres-minutes-74623394.html)

Once again undercut for those who want to avoid spoilers !

Marinette : and so all the Kwamis live inside ?

Tikki : Yes, except for Nooroo and Duusuu who are restraint as prisoners by the bad guys!

M : Master Fu was never letting them go out ?

T : only the Kwamis who have a bearer like me can go out in the human world, Marinette !

M : But… Aren’t they a bit too compressed inside here ?

T : Oh, no ! There’s a whole parallel universe inside, but it’s way more interesting to be here with you, the human’s world is so much more inventive !

[Marinette presses the button and all the kwamis get out]

M : I thought they couldn’t get out ! 

T : Now that you’re the guardian, the miracle box is at your image, full of surprises ! It really is incredible ! 

Mullo : Thank you, Tikki !

T : Heeeyyy Marinette did it for me!!

M : Hey!! It’s my diary !

The pig kwami: Day, night, day, night, day, night !

The cow kwami holding the Luka phone : Oooh it’s making music [..??]

M : Careful my phone !

Kaalki : Iiiiincredible, come quickly see that ! The carts are moving on their own, here ! There isn’t a single horse to pull them—

That kid down the street : Mum, look !

M : Hhahahaah it’s a prototype of speaking plushie, but he’s not to sell !

Nadja : The city of Paris is getting ready to celebrate the birthday of the famous Prince Ali and—

Alya : Marinette ?

M : Ooooh Alyaaa, hehe, what do you think of my plushie ? Cute, isn’t it ?

A : What plushie ?

M : Well, errr..

T : Marinette, we’re magical creatures, we can’t be seen nor heard on the screen of your world!

Cow kwami: Awww that’s why we don’t see me on this magical painting !

M : Okay, so they see only me and I look completely ridiculous, that’s right ?

A : Marinette.. Are you sure everything’s alright ?

M : Ooooh it’s you giiiirls I’m sooo happy to see you, it’s the perfect moment to have a conversation !

Rose : Say, can you show us your new plushies ?

M : Eeeerrr I don’t see what you’re talking about—uuuh oouuchh

A : Are you feeling alright Marinette ?

Tiger Kwami : Why are your friends prisoners from that image ?

Pig kwami : They are so cuuuuute, I want the one on the front as my bearer!

Trixx: Too late ! Already taken !

Mullo : Why is Trixx allowed to have a bearer and not us ?

A : But you’re even weirder than usual…

M : Heheh, it’s just that I’m doing exercises! I invented a series of exercises, eeerrr it’s a series super difficult, to errr…warm up before making plushies !

Mylène : Go on a stroll instead, you look overworked !

A : Wait a minute, disordered gesticulation, ridiculous babble, weird excuse, doubly exaggerated clumsiness…

All the girls, gasping: Is Adrien at your place?!

[ashesgraves]

Here’s the first part of my first story!

Warnings: some violence mentioned, a few swears that’s all I think

part 2 https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646294553661423616/an-orcs-promise-part-2

Part 3: https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646373247166906368/an-orcs-promise-part-3

Part 4: https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646477938321244160/an-orcs-promise-part-4

Part: 5 https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646486100736638976/an-orcs-promise-part-5

The chosen: Ellera https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646559933035364352/an-orcs-promise

The chosen: Oridan https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646771371691622400/an-orcs-promise

The chosen: Killian https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/647330998732881920/an-orcs-promise

The chosen: All https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/647482818600009728/an-orcs-promise

An Orcs Promise

You lived in a simple and small village in the middle of a valley not too far from a forest of fae, an ocean filled with water dwellers, a stronghold of orcs up in the mountains and a field of centaurs.

Everything was about a days trip away by horse, by foot it was typically two to three days worth of travel. It was worth it however, your village thrived with the amount of trading that was available to them. Fae providing seed and saplings already in growth, the water dwellers granting you safe travel or bountiful baskets of fish, the centaurs allowing land share for your crops and the orcs, they provided live stock and hunting goods as well as strong work hands. Doing things you humans couldn’t really do.

You lived a simple life in your simple village as a woodsmith not exactly what it’s called but you liked the title. No you couldn’t do blacksmithing it just didn’t suit you unlike it did your father and gardening/crop tending didn’t feel right like it did for your mother. So you turned to wood, of course you helped your parents but you just preferred to stick to your own, like carving or maybe the occasional building and repairing. Because of your skills you were often called ‘too manly’ and your parents were told “good luck marrying you off” however they didn’t want to do that, you’re too helpful around the shops and farm.

Your mother is a fae and your father is a human giving you some funny features and hair. Your eyes seemed like they could shift colour and you had magic freckles that disappeared with the sun. Long and wild hair that couldn’t be tamed. Your mother always made sure to call you beautiful and your father always made sure to teach you how to throw a punch. But enough of all this back story let’s talk about how three of your favourite orcs are battling in your families shop.

The twins and their older sister going full throttle displaying their strength wits and ability to strategize. It had started off as any other Saturday you were in your own shop your mother in the fields and your father in his shop. You were working on a carving to trade with one of the centaurs for a spot on their bountiful fields to grow a few trees for your upcoming project. A place of your own. You were ready to move out and start new, of course you didn’t want to leave your parents but they’ve been leaving a few hints here and there. They were ready to let you go and fly from the nest. Cheesy as that sounds that’s just how your parents are.

Heavily lost in your work until a soft moss green hand lifted your chin to face her. Ellera the eldest of the three Thundered, you always giggled at their last name but it made sense they sounded like a thunder storm when they all came roaming around.

Your face went bright red as you jumped from surprise. “Oh Ellera!!!! It’s good to see you, sorry I just got lost in my own world again.. what can I help you with?” Your voice was soft as you set your things down and put your full attention onto the orcess in front of you.

“Well my lamb you could start by getting me mother some of those boards for hackin as well as rod for the seas “ Her voice was strong and full of power with a heavy accent but it always held some softness just for you. Smiling brightly as you grabbed a few different types of cutting boards and chopping blocks for Ellera to pick from. Lastly was your prized fishing rod, carved from the finest tree you ever saw. Your best handy work.

“Take your pick! The thicker the block the more force it can handle. And this is the best of the best in my shop, just for you.” Smiling so sweet you would cause a cavity as you watched her face grow a darker shade of green. It was always your own personal mission to make Ellera blush you couldn’t help it. She was just perfect no matter what she did or how she did it.

“So you make these boards like yourself mm ??? The thicker the more you can handle~” Waltzing up beside Ellera was the older of the twins Oridan the flirtatious goof. Now it was your turn once more to blush bright in the face. Ellera on the other hand scoffed as she smacked him upside the head.

“Hasn’t mother taught ya manners you ass.” Ellera rolled her eyes but was her brother wrong? Lastly to join your conversation Killian the youngest of the family. As well as the smallest but compared to you he was still a giant. They all had tree trunk thighs, gorgeous muscles, beautifully braided and decorated hair and ears. Tribal tattoos that littered every inch of their body you wished to explore. Now now reel those thoughts back in.. “as you were saying lamb which is best for meat and which for vegetables “

Drawing you back from your thoughts you shook your head. “This one has thicker boards and the grain is going this way meaning it’ll absorb the force. Better for meats and such. This one is thinner with grain this way meaning it’s better for slicing and all” you could talk about this stuff for hours but you didn’t want to bore the siblings.

“Then we’ll get them” Ellera spoke so kindly as she took the boards under her arm and into her satchel. You knew the rest of their family would prefer to pay as one rather than separately and possibly underpaying your family. No overpaying wasn’t their issue they were happy to do so, it was possibly underpaying you that they worried about. Your family always took good care of them when they needed, the first of your village to show them such kindness and hospitality.

“Oh Ellera here I have something for you.” Gingerly taking the orcesses hand in your own you lead her to your little safe. Digging around the box for a moment you found what you were searching for. A beautiful hand crafted obsidian necklace. You knew orcish traditions you knew this was you asking Ellera to court you. “It’s obsidian, it’s too heavy of a stone for me so I thought you would like it. W-Will you accept..”

“You know what this means correct??” You were no dummy of course you knew, so you gently nodded your head. “Of course l will it’s beautiful thank you my lamb.” Ellera smiled brightly and turned to her brothers with an all knowing smirk. “ suck it losers I have won!!!!! My dearest little lamb had chosen me. Now butt out of the shop before I take both of your heads and put them on a platter. “ You couldn’t help but snicker a bit at her words, it’s just how she was with those two.

Now this leads us to where we are at the moment. Ellera taking off her satchel and her necklace before brawling it out with her brothers. You hadn’t known the twins also had an eye for you, looking around your shop there stand their parents with your own. All of them had the what the hell happened and is going on look. You could only smile sheepishly as you weaved your way through the mass of limbs colliding with one another. “So I’ve asked Ellera if we could court per orcish tradition and I didn’t even know the twins had a thing for me. And now their battling it out because the twins think Ellera had an unfair advantage and can you please stop them before they break anything in my shop??? Oh and Mrs. Thundered I had Ellera pick out some lovely cutting boards and butchers blocks for you !! “ The orc parents laughed and shook their heads at your little story. They can deal with all this after they save your shop from being ripped apart.

Mrs. Thundered grabbed Ellera with most of her might and tossed the girl over her shoulder. While Mr. Thundered grabbed the two boys and held them apart like bickering cats. “Now before you break this lovely shop why the hell are you all fighting. I swear we raised you better than to fight inside. “ Mrs. Thundered spoke sternly as she glared at all of her children. Collecting all the items they have picked out you rang them up while the parents took their kids outside and had a much different conversation than in the shop.

It took maybe twenty minutes of waiting before the orc family came back inside. The boys a flustered mess and Ellera grumpily huffing and sighing as her mother held her back. “Boys. Go. “ you laughed a bit at how large they were compared to you but yet in this moment they seemed so small. “Boys.” Her tone was much sterner maybe the sternest you had ever heard. Tilting your head up to the twins you smiled softly .

“W-Will you accept our own courting gifts.. and by the end of the courting months you can pick who wish to be with the most. “ it was Killian who spoke which surprised you he was always so shy and cautious of his words.

“I mean it’ll obviously be me.. I don’t even know why we have to wait months! Right sugar ???” Oridan made you laugh as he nudged his brother aside to hand you his gift. A simply terribly carved handle but with a beautiful dagger blade attached. You had no idea how he even managed to do such small carvings in the metal. “I know the handle isn’t pretty but I thought maybe you would help me with that.. “ now all of a sudden his loud and boisterous self was no more than just like his twin.

Killian however seemed a bit more confident with his gift a beautiful fur lined cloak. You had no idea he could sew.. “Boys these are both beautiful in their own ways.. but Ellera..?? How would it work what if I can’t choose ? What will happen then ? A fight to the death? “ Ellera nodded and pulled out her own gift she didn’t need to give it to you but she wanted to. Just to out shine her brothers once more. It was a crystal vase with preserved flowers encased inside.

“It wouldn’t be to the death just to where the other two can no longer rise to their feet. Any other orc yes to the death. “ Oridan spoke up once more, you loved all of them but you never thought the twins were interest in you Oridan maybe but, that was just you thinking he was joking. “So please.. will you accept?”

“I will, all three of us can court each other. Until then you need to work on your wood skills how did you not loose a finger and Krillian this is gorgeous I didn’t know you could sew like this. Ellera of course this is gorgeous but what if it breaks ?? What if I shatter it ???? “ The orcess simply laughed and shook her head.

“It can’t shatter I promise hun how can I promise such a thing, well me and my big man hands made it. “ Ellera smiled willy her dark oak brown eyes shining gleefully as she started down to you. Puffing out her chest showing off her muscles it was her final display of strength before her mother dragged her off to the horses.

“I look forward to this.. I haven’t always been able to sew just with the changing seasons I thought you would get cold so I took up the skill for you. “ That immediately made your heart melt. Killian took up a whole hobby just to be able to provide for you. With his Killian getting the last day of the three siblings they all went off on their way home.

Oh dear, how could you choose..

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

A Sister Like You

Inspired by this post in which Elsa her 8yo self and Anna is her 18yo Frozen 1 age at the same time, AND @themountainsays ‘s tags about how it could make an interesting bastard!Anna au.

Special shout out to @like-redhead-probably and @daughterofhel for your encouragement! And pssst @jabs-wocks this one is much cuter and fluffier, I promise <3

Edit: Ao3 and FF.net

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

The king and queen had a terribly kept secret: their firstborn was a bastard.

It was a terribly kept secret because, well, everyone loved her.

Anna of Arendelle was too much like sunshine on a cloudy day for people to hate her. The cooks loved her because she wasn’t a picky eater like her father, and the maids loved her because she always helped mend the sheets she ripped during her playtime. The gardeners and stablemen loved Anna because she talked to the ducklings and horses and goats, and even the flowers weren’t ignored. The people loved her because she was a bright child who walked among the crowds in the market and bought pastries from the local baker with a smile full of missing baby teeth. Anna danced with the town’s children during the festivals and chased after ships until the end of the dock as they set sail.

And perhaps most importantly, her parents loved her - one of blood and one of adoptive heart. They promised to care for the little red-headed baby as their own, regardless of what people said. 

Truly, Anna was a light in the dark, even as a toddler, a fire in the midst of winter during her childhood years, and that warmth only soared to bonfire heat with the birth of the first true princess, her little sister, Elsa.

Anna’s love for Elsa was similarly earned in the way it was passed to her: instantly, freely, and without hesitation.

Elsa was born in the midst of a terrible winter storm that ended as soon as Anna was let into the birthing room. The king was right behind her, kissing his wife’s head sweetly as they peered down at their second daughter. The question was asked if Anna wanted to hold her little sister and Anna nodded furiously, already getting a leg up on the bed. They laid Elsa in her arms and Anna's eyes filled with wonder at the tiny bundle. She sat completely frozen, not wanting to move or change her position lest she disturb Elsa. The babe fussed and grabbed Anna’s small finger in an even smaller fist. Everyone in the room fawned over the action.

“She’ll be queen, right?” The king and queen exchanged a glance, hesitant. Anna had not seemed put out by the fact that she would never officially rule, but she was only ten, and they weren’t sure if that would always be the case.

The king cleared his throat. “Yes, darling. She will.”

Anna looked back down at her baby sister. Looked at her like she was her whole world. Elsa hiccupped a little and Anna smiled her blinding smile.

“I can’t wait,” she said, wiggling her trapped finger back and forth so Elsa turned towards the motion. “She’s gonna be great! And I’m gonna help her!”

The mood shifted instantly and everyone relaxed, rejoicing. Elsa’s forehead wrinkled at all the noise and she began to wail until Anna soothed her, shushing all the adults with a serious tone. They did, but not without some laughter.

And then Elsa sneezed.

Frost dusted Anna’s twin braids and bangs. She blinked. Everyone stared in complete shock. A small snowflake fell delicately from nowhere to land on the tip of Anna’s nose. In her arms, Elsa made little noises of satisfaction and nestled herself further into Anna’s hands before falling asleep.

“I take it back,” Anna whispered excitedly while the room found their tongues. “She’s going to be the best!”

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

In the middle of the night, Anna crept through the darkened hallways of Arendelle castle, easing the door of her parents’ room open. She lifted, with some effort, the door from the bottom with her toe so it wouldn’t squeak and give her away. She closed it just the same, sidling over to the crib along the far wall. Voices came from the opposite side of the room, in the connected bathroom.

They were arguing. Again.

She couldn’t remember them arguing when she was little, but Anna wasn’t sure that was because they hadn’t, or because they’d not had a reason to.

Because now they were always arguing about Elsa.

Anna dragged the stepstool up to the side of the crib. Elsa was deeply asleep, mumbling vague syllables as Anna rocked her bed gently with her knee. Half a year had passed and Elsa kept getting bigger everyday. Her hair was growing out, her cheeks were soft and pudgy (“Just like yours!” The staff would often remind Anna), and she had started to laugh and laugh and laugh at all of Anna’s antics. Anna was utterly enchanted by her, her little sister was genuine magic.

And of course, Elsa was literally magic, too.

Raised voices rebounded around the walls as the king and queen found new ground to battle over. Anna saw Elsa’s lower lip wobble and put her hand down into the crib so Elsa could hold it. With her other hand she touched the bandages around her head.

“It’s okay,” Anna murmured, “I know it was an accident.”

They’d been playing Peek-a-Boo.

Anna had surprised Elsa for the hundredth time with a joyful, “Here I am!”, only this time Elsa had placed her hand on Anna’s temple as she giggled and there was a flash of white. The next thing Anna knew she was on horseback, jostled back and forth in the king’s lap. They rode hard, to a clearing she didn’t recognize. Creatures rolled out of the mist and popped open, revealing themselves to be trolls. Anna would have been excited under normal circumstances, but the looks on the king and queen’s faces, and the fact that Elsa was crying her tiny lungs out, had her clamping down on any questions.

The adults talked, human and troll alike, but Anna was having a hard time paying attention. Elsa was so far away, upset, and she couldn’t reach her. Her body felt stiff and cold, especially her head. She couldn’t stop shivering. One of the trolls saw her reach out from the king’s arms and told everyone that Anna was awake.

The old troll informed her gravely that her life was in danger, that Elsa’s power would only continue to grow. He showed her images with his magic: a figure in blue turning water to ice, then being pounced upon by figures in red. They were beautiful, and frightening, making Anna’s heart pound sluggishly in her chest. The queen and king said the troll could do whatever he needed to save Anna’s life and protect Elsa from such a fate. The troll approached Anna, with more magic shining in his rocky palm, and said that everything would be fine, that it was just her head and not her heart. He chuckled humorously.

“Much better to lose a few memories than your life.”

Anna refused.

The adults sputtered.

“Will I remember Elsa?”

“Yes, of course but-”

“Will I remember her magic?”

“The magic is what did the damage, and to remove it I would remove-”

“Then no.”

And she wouldn’t hear it any other way, even as her body grew colder and the vision on her right fractured and split. A frozen headache pulsed at her temple, spreading rapidly across her skull. Still, Anna sought out the sound of Elsa’s voice, even though others were getting in the way. She couldn’t tell who was who. Some of them wanted the troll to do it anyway, that Anna was just a child, only ten, and didn’t know better. Some wanted Anna’s wishes to be respected, that perhaps there was another way. Even more worried about the future, the kingdom, what it might mean to have a queen with powers… or a bastard without memories of them.

What were the consequences of hiding Elsa’s powers from the public? What were the repercussions of making the same mistake over and over, if Anna was literally unable to remember the danger?

So many questions, so many voices.

All of them wanted her to live.

Anna took air into small lungs embedded with ice shards, speaking softly but clearly even as fatigue stole over her.

“Elsa’s powers are a part of her. Forgetting them means I’m forgetting part of Elsa. I don’t want that. How can I help her if I don’t know her?”

--

When Anna next awoke she was in her room back at the castle, wrapped solidly in blankets. Summer sunlight filtered through the curtains, bright and cheerful. She thought perhaps it had all been a dream, and she’d been allowed a rare day to sleep in.

In fact here was Gerda, thankfully with breakfast, walking through the door. Anna sat up to make space and shot her a cheerful, “Good morning!”

Gerda dropped everything she was carrying in one huge clatter and rushed to Anna’s side, burying her in a deep hug.

“Oh, my little Princess!” She always called Anna that, even though she wasn’t really. “We thought we were going to lose you!”

Anna went to protest but spied her reflection in the mirror over Gerda’s shoulder. Her hair was it’s usual post-slumber mess, but this time instead of it being held away from her face by sheer luck, it was by bandages.

Gerda set about getting her dressed and fed and ready for the day. She did Anna’s hair last of all, delicately peeling away the strips of cloth. It hurt a little, but not too bad. Anna wasn’t sure what she expected to see as the source of the pain, but that wasn’t it.

“Did I get some of the powdered sugar in my hair?” She asked.

Gerda looked sad, gazing at Anna through her reflection. “No my dear, that’s…” She paused, deliberating. Anna touched the white streak at her temple, following it back where it disappeared behind her ear.

“I don’t know all the details,” Gerda finally continued, “but I’m told you were very brave.”

Anna watched Gerda comb the white streak into her braid and remembered.

And to her everlasting relief… she remembered everything.

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

Anna and Elsa grew up, little by little, leap by leap. Space was cleared out in Anna’s room for Elsa’s bed and things, but by that time they were already inseparable. From the moment Elsa could walk she followed Anna everywhere. Laughter was common, and anyone in the castle who caught an earful of it drifting and caterwauling through the halls always gave a smile. Unless it was followed by the sound of something breaking, then it was usually a kickstart to a sprint.

As Anna edged into her teenage years things got… a little silly. Now at ages fifteen and five, the girls could get into all kinds of mischief. Nothing terrible of course, mostly playing knights in the hallways with the armor and freezing their tutor’s inkwell after a particularly difficult day of study. But then of course, there was the time Elsa made sleeping versions of them to fool people into thinking they were tucked away for the night, only to get caught sneaking into the fjord waters for a late night swim. Or the time Anna pretended Elsa was sick and was only taking requests through the door - requests that included chocolate cake, chocolate chip cookies, hot chocolate (in summer), chocolate mousse…

The future that the king and queen feared never came to pass; Elsa’s powers indeed grew as she did, but they were tempered with the practice that came along with frequent use, namely entertaining herself and her older sister. Anna never got tired of watching Elsa, “Do the magic,” and Elsa never got tired showing her.

Anna’s sunny disposition never wavered even when others thought it might, when, despite their closeness, familial bonds, and education, Anna’s status as an out of wedlock child started to become more frequently pronounced. If anything, Elsa took more offense to her sister being addressed as, “Lady Anna,” while she got “Princess Elsa”, than Anna ever did.

“But you are a princess!” Elsa protested one night. They were both in their respective beds, across from each other, flat on their backs as they watched the hues of the Northern Lights waver over their ceiling.

“I’m technically half adopted,” Anna clarified.

“What does that mean?”

“It means one of our parents isn’t my flesh and blood parent, even though I call them Mama and Papa just like you do.”

“That’s so weird,” and Anna could hear Elsa’s frown from her side of the room. “Which one?”

Anna shrugged. “I dunno. It’s not like I haven’t wondered, but it just, never seemed to matter enough to ask.”

“I could ask.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t have to.”

“But I wanna know!”

Anna sighed. She watched the lights dance a moment before saying, “I don’t.”

“Oh…” Elsa went quiet. “Can I ask why?”

“Sure you can.”

A few seconds passed before Elsa huffed irritably and Anna grinned in the dark. “Why don't you want to know?”

“I want to be mysterious,” Anna teased.

“Anna!”

“What? If you get to be queen, then I want to be the spooky, strange older sibling!”

She expected a laugh but was met with silence.

“...Did you wanna be queen?”

Anna opened her mouth to reply how she always did, but stopped. This was her sister, not some dignitary in a hushed tone or some drink toting duchess at a dinner party. She deserved a real answer.

“No,” Anna said finally, “not really anyway. Even when I was little I didn’t dream of holding Papa’s scepter or wearing Mama’s crown. I felt like that was their thing, and you had your thing! And I was… am, happy just being me.”

“Is that because you really never thought about it, or because someone told you it would never be yours?”

Anna’s brows knit together and she sat up quickly. “Hey,” she smirked, “who said you could be a five-year-old philosopher?”

“Sorry!” Elsa sat up too, her arms hugging her bed sheet covered legs. “I just think you’d be really good at it!”

“Good at it?” Elsa nodded, the Lights roaming through her hair. “What makes you say that?”

“Well…,” Elsa began rolling her hands in a circular motion. A small ball of twinkling snow appeared between her hands, rotating gently. She did this whenever she was thinking. “You’re smart and patient and kind. You’re always explaining things to me, and telling me stories. You help me when I’m mad at my homework or miss a stitch while sewing. You’re always thinking of new games to play, you read me books and take me out into the town for a day of fun! And you always save some of your peas from dinner for the ducks in the pond. You claim it’s because you hate vegetables but really it’s because you know it’s their favorite snack.

“But as much as you teach,” Elsa continued, the snowball spinning and sparking, “you also listen. You know everybody in the whole castle’s birthday. A sailor told you that he always missed the baker’s lun epleterte when he was out at sea, and now the baker always has extra when he sees that ship come home. Kai mentioned once that his favorite flowers hadn’t bloomed yet in the garden so you staked out the hedge for weeks. The moment they bloomed you ran to go find him, a few flowers already in your hands. You’re very-,” Elsa paused, her hands stopping too. Her lips twitched in annoyance. “I don’t know the word. But you know people and you care about them, and I think that would make you a great queen.”

The little snowball shrunk and disappeared, returning the room to the flickering patterns of pinks, blues, and greens of the Lights. Anna propped her head and elbow up on her thigh. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not really interested, and even if I were, I still couldn’t.”

Elsa waved her hand dismissively. “When I’m queen I’ll just make you queen too.”

Anna scoffed, though not without humor. “That’s not how it works.”

“Says who? I’ll be queen! Who’s gonna say no?” Elsa barreled on, not waiting for Anna’s response. “It’ll be perfect: I’ll be Queen, you’ll be Royal-Big-Sister-Queen, and then you and I can both do whatever we want! We’ll be perfect together!”

“‘Royal-Big-Sister-Queen’? That’s not a thing.”

“It will be,” Elsa replied confidently. Anna exhaled heavily, a smile on her lips. Elsa noticed her lack of enthusiasm. “Okay, I’ll work on a better title but…, I just don’t want people thinking that you’re not part of my family.”

Anna’s eyes softened. “C’mere you.”

Elsa kicked off her covers, grabbed the stuffed penguin Anna had made for her fourth birthday, and ran on bare feet to Anna’s bedside. She lifted her arms and Anna picked her up, nestling her close. “It will never matter what other people say about me, because I know that the family that chose me, and that I choose right back everyday, loves me very much, and just wants me to be happy.”

Anna ran her pinkie softly down the bridge of Elsa’s nose. Her little sister blinked drowsily when Anna did it again. “What do you think about that?” She asked quietly.

“I think… you’re my best friend-older sister,” Elsa said softly as sleep dragged at her, “who tries to put her cold feet on my back when we sleep together, always forgetting that I can’t feel the cold.”

Anna chuckled low in her chest. “And I think you are my sweet-but-silly little sister,” she replied, tweaking Elsa’s nose which made her giggle, “who is always stealing the blankets despite claiming she’s never cold, leaving me to freeze to death.”

Elsa cuddled closer to Anna, yawning fiercely. “I promise I’ll share them tonight. Pre-Queen’s honor.”

Anna put a hand to her chest. “That’s a big promise, your Almost-Majesty. How do you know you’ll keep it?”

Elsa already had her eyes closed and her head on Anna’s pillow. “Because I love you.”

Anna smiled warmly. She scooched lower and drew the covers up over her shoulder, planting a kiss on Elsa’s forehead as she got settled.

“I love you too. And I still will, even when I wake up tomorrow and all the covers are on your side of the bed.”

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

Elsa never did come up with a better title for Anna’s rise to royalty. Not that she didn’t have time; to most people three years is quite the span, but for children and young adults it may well have been the blink of an eye. And it certainly felt like no time at all when Kai knocked on their door, parchment in hand and tears in his eyes, to deliver the news that their parents had died at sea.

Anna was eighteen, and Elsa, heir to the throne, only eight.

The funeral was delayed until proper mourning attire could be fashioned for such young women. The headstones were grand but simple. After the rain and the prayers, Anna and Elsa walked back to their room, silent. Anna worked on autopilot: helping Elsa disrobe, comb out her hair, put her in sleepwear. Until she felt the ghost of a memory, not long past, of her hugging the queen and king around the waist, expressing her wish to see them soon. The last time she’d ever touched them.

She heard Elsa sniffle beneath her hand, and caught sight of their reflection in the mirror. Tears dripped out of red-rimmed eyes as Elsa’s hard fought composure (already so heavy for a child) fell apart at Anna’s momentary lapse in normality. Then they were holding each other close, fingers digging into clothing and faces pressed close together.

They slept in the same bed for months.

But during that time an uncomfortable question arose. One that, out of respect for tradition, should have waited, but realistically speaking, couldn’t.

Who was in charge now?

Obviously no one expected an eight-year-old to be officially running a country, especially since her Coronation Day was over a decade away. And while Elsa had already Ascended to ruling status, legally she wasn’t making the rules, and it couldn’t be advisors forever. Especially not after the period of mourning, which at max placed Elsa at twelve. She would be involved in ongoing diplomatic and national matters of course, as she would have been anyway, though now to a larger degree, but the fact of the matter was that Elsa was a child.

She still had a bedtime.

And it couldn’t be Anna… could it? She had the training, the disposition. Even if she’d never desired it personally, could she be persuaded to step up, even if it was, in the end, invisibly? The advisors knew that generally speaking, the people of Arendelle would not turn their backs on Anna being their ruler in Elsa’s place, but politically, they felt the pressure of putting the correct outward face on their country.

Anna walked past two advisors, picking holes in the same arguments she’d heard for weeks, and closed her ears to it all. If they --the crown, the staff, the castle-- needed her help, she’d do it in a heartbeat, but right now, she was more concerned with the remaining family she had left.

Namely, finding her before her upcoming royal duties.

They were starting slow. A few of the old guardsmen had retired, and today was their replacement’s first day on the job. Elsa, as queen, was supposed to formally greet them and thank them for their service. Fairly straightforward, all things considered, but Anna had seemingly lost track of Elsa after breakfast and between a few meetings of her own, and now was looking for her little sister.

Well, she was pretending to look. Anna knew exactly where to find her sister, but she gathered that, with all the fuss over dress and ceremony, Elsa may want just a few extra seconds to be alone, not being touched by people’s hands or her hair pulled by combs or set in tight braids and buns along her head.

But they couldn’t delay forever. Anna tapped a special rhythm on the door to their room, hearing a muted, “Come in!” from the other side.

As she entered, Anna’s breath caught in her throat.

Elsa was dressed like, well…

She looked just like Mama.

“Gerda says if I keep my steps high, I won’t trip on my cape,” Elsa said, spinning to show off the purple floor length cape. “But I can’t walk normally if I do that, I look like a puffed up frog!”

A little tiara nestled in her snow-blonde hair bounced light around the room as Elsa shifted. A fleck caught in Anna’s eye and she blinked harshly, bringing her back to the moment.

“Good thing you only have to walk a few feet,” Anna agreed, closing the door behind her and striding up to her sister. “You’ll be the best dressed frog in the room.”

Elsa folded her arms and scowled, looking very queenly indeed. “I’m surprised you’re the one saying that, considering what you’re wearing today,” and she gestured up and down at her sister.

It was true, Anna was wearing a dress that was almost entirely green from top to bottom, excluding the bodice which was black. The pleats of her skirt were alternating shades of green, the only spots of color otherwise being the rosemaling against the black silk on her chest and abdomen. Anna looked down then back up, and grinned. “I guess you’re right. You’ll have to teach me how to walk then. Does it look something like this?”

She marched dramatically in place, all high knees and right angled elbows, a look of comic determination on her face. To her delight, and relief, Elsa burst into giggles. She held her two gloved hands up in front of her mouth.

That was the Elsa she knew.

“You’re going to embarrass me, Anna,” Elsa laughed.

“Lucky for me, that’s the older sibling’s job.” Anna put her hands on her hips. “Ready to go?”

Elsa’s smile dropped, looking down at her outfit. “I look like I am.”

Anna crouched down to be level with Elsa. “You certainly do,” she said softly. “You look beautiful. But I asked if you were ready.” Elsa didn’t meet her eye, instead fidgeting with her hands and wringing the soft blue leather of her gloves.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be,” Elsa confessed, downcast.

Anna acknowledged that with a little hum. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a long time. But I think that’s okay too, it just means you’re still willing to learn. And you know, you’re not alone. You’ve got Kai and Gerda and all the staff, you’ve got the tutors and experts and all the other adults that know what to do. And, you know,” Anna shrugged, “you’ve got me, too. So I’m pretty sure it won’t be a complete disaster.”

Elsa looked up. “Really?”

“Positive,” Anna winked. She pinched her pointer finger and thumb close together. “Just a little one.”

Elsa laughed again and shoved Anna’s hand away. “Okay, okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“After you,” Anna said grandly, opening the door wide for Elsa with a sweeping bow. Elsa shook her head, then squared her shoulders and tilted her chin back, adopting the posture she’d learned over many lessons of how to walk like a queen. Anna sheltered the little spark of pride inside her heart, and the flicker of sadness that came along with it.

They started to make their way down the long hall, Anna a step behind to Elsa’s right, as was expected. As they neared the halfway point, Elsa’s pace slowed, and Anna noticed immediately.

She tapped Elsa on the shoulder and gently took her hand.

Elsa glanced ahead and behind furtively. “I… shouldn’t.”

“I know but, you don’t have to be ‘Queen-queen’ until we turn that corner, so…” Anna ran her thumb across the back of Elsa’s gloved hand, “You can keep holding my hand until then.”

Elsa squeezed back. “And after that? Where will you be?”

Anna beamed.

“Right next to you. And after that? Wherever you need me to be.”

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Let me give you my life

Pairing: Loki x Tesseract

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mourning, delusions, mental illness, alcohol, Original Character Death, Odin, fantastic racism

Summary: After Frigga's funeral, Loki starts hearing a voice. It changes their life completely.

Chapter 3: Verse 3

Chapter warnings: math, fantastic racism, death (not graphic)

Chapter summary: the orders

Previous chapter, AO3, next chapter

If I'm a pagan of the good times / my lover's the sunlight

Loki storms the library once again, this time searching everything about the Tesseract and this Entropy they call him all the time.

Entropy still remains a mystery, but there are even more writings about the space stone than the ones they've seen before.

"It says here that they worshipped you," Loki says, but only internally. He's in public, speaking to the walls would make him appear mad.

"People express loyalty in different ways," they answer, always softer since the deal.

"Is that what you want? Loyalty?"

"Among other things, yes. But mostly trust that I will not hurt you, cause I won't," they promise. Loki already knows this.

Can't break something that's already in pieces.

"Brother!" Thor yells as he walks in. Loki's shoulders tense, this idiot never warns them.

"Tho-thor," he answers, eyes on Thor as they drab a chair and side beside him. "How come you be i-i-in here? You ha-ha-hate books," they raise an eyebrow at their brother.

"I'm here to see how you're doing. You've been acting oddly lately," he answers, those blue eyes scanning Loki.

"People grie-grie-grie-grieve in different ways, Th-thor. I a-a-a-assure you, I'm fi-fine," he hums, turning back to the book.

"Loki. After all this, just remember that I'm here for you, eh? You needn't face anything alone," Thor insists, placing a big and steady hand on Loki's shoulder.

Loki's body nods, and smiles, watching as Thor smiles back before leaving. Loki's mind wonders if this is all a mistake. Thor was, is grieving too. Maybe this is all too much…

But Thor wasn't there when Gæirasson offended Loki, neither time. In fact, Thor has been a ghost since Frigga's death.

"You have my trust and loyalty, until the end," Loki decides, feeling in their core how relieved the Tesseract is by the answer.

"Allow me to show you another secret then. Look at your hands but don't touch anything and don't let it spread," they answer.

Loki lets the book and brings his torn from the picking hands under the table, always watching them. Black ropes start appearing and tangling themselves on their fingers, creating a calming sensation and demanding more ground, but Loki doesn't allow it. Out of all kinds of magic, this is by far the most powerful one he has ever seen.

And the most chaotic.

To keep the Goddess on my side / she demands a sacrifice

Like every day, the official Tesseract session is late at night, while Loki should be sleeping. Signs of their decreasing amount of sleep are becoming more and more visible, but they don't care.

"The o-orders?" he asks.

"You need to know some things first. In order to keep you from dying, King Laufey made a deal with one of us. Your life for acts of service. You need to do some things before being free," they do speak like they did on the first days, but somehow still softer.

"Acts of s-s-service?" he questions. So, the stone just needs hands and will borrow theirs?

"Yes. There are things that will keep the stones safe from those who seek them to do harm. Asgard has two, and you need to make sure that some things are set to their protection. It's just one thing, really. But you need to use your new powers to do so,"

Loki nods, the movement small and cut, like a soldier's.

"Ready to-to comply,"

Drain the whole sea / get something shiny

"First order. Free yourself from everything, good and bad," the Tesseract says. Loki blinks in confusion.

"H-how?"

"What bad do you carry into you? The possessiveness, the jealousy, this ego you named pride, all this fury… you don't need them from now on. Let them go," they insist.

"L-let them go?"

"Act as if they don't exist, don't give them your attention. The same thing goes for your bright side. You faith in your moral compass, your deep feeling for everything you care about. Both of those sides will keep you from moving on. You mustn't listen to them anymore," they explain, as if it's something easy.

"So… y-y-you want me to be-to be your li-little m-m-minion?" he raises an eyebrow. Is that what they agreed on? Being a tiny pawn but just on a different chess board?

“No. Not exactly. You are not to abandon them for my own good, but for yours. The acts might hurt these sides of you, you need them in one piece,” their voice softens.

Loki takes a breath, in and out as slow as possible, and nods again. “What-what sh-sh-should I-I do?” even though the stutter stays, he refuses to let his voice break.

They swear they can feel the stone smiling.

“Listen to me, and don’t act upon them. Also, learn how to control possibility magic,”

Possibility magic? Is that what the black ropes are?

“Learn how Midgardians think of possibilities. It’s close to how your new abilities work,” they advise him. So, this is what being under the orders of a stone is like? Homework and pretending? it’s nothing they don’t know how to do for hundreds of years…

“And after the-the week?”

“the fun starts.”

Loki smiles wide, wider than he has ever smiled even before Frigga’s death.

something meaty for the main course / that’s a fine looking high horse

The week passes peacefully. Loki doesn’t have to worry about how to do what, the Tesseract is there to help them with it and lets them just decide how to do what and, oddly enough, the Midgardian science was calming.

At least, more calming than war theory. And less graphic.

He was chilling on the training grounds and working on the newfound magic, until the Tesseract came.

“It’s time,” they say moments before a blinding blue light covers Loki.

With the blink of an eye, they’re at a castle’s yard, hiding behind a bush.

“Prevent the war, you know how,” the Tesseract says again.

On the contrary, Loki has no idea where he is and what he has to do.

At least not until a guard passes by, near the bush, their armour bearing Gæirasson's symbol.

They smirk, moving from shadow to shadow and into the castle, where they cast an invisibility spell to navigate without worrying about getting caught.

What you've got in the stable? / We've a lot of starving faithful

In the grand hall, Loki finds the old lord. They're discussing an attack, in which he is the main character, of course. They're to strike tomorrow evening.

Loki has to hold himself not to laugh. Instead, they sit and wait. Wait until Gæirasson ends the council and heads to their bedroom. And Loki follows. Until the corridors make a room, with six doors to navigate through.

It would be such a shame if they suddenly closed shut, locking the two foes inside.

The old fool chuckles. "I know you're here, Frost Giant. I can smell your people's blood," he looks around.

Loki chuckles back and drops the spell, standing right in front of the man.

"Is it this? Or do your aged joins hurt with the cold?" he titles his head, showing his signature mischievous smile.

"Why are you here? To negotiate? We've been past this part," they growl. Loki doesn't break the smirk, but lets a glow pass their eyes. Green, but with icy blue undertones, and a pitch black shadow.

"No. We are here to talk about monsters. For, as you can smell, the blood of my siblings who you slained are screeching for it"

That looks tasty / that looks plenty / this is hungry work

"Do you know anything of my people's belief regarding the Norns?" Loki asks, circling around the man like a predator waiting to strike.

"Why should I care about the opinions of monsters?" he spits, trying to mimic the glare.

"Oh, because it's interesting. We believe in the norns, like you do. But they don't create the strings, they knit them. Twisting and turning and combining and separating people, and letting us choose where to go on each knot. Fascinating. Oddly enough, the mortals have a similar way of thinking, at least the ones who are closer to science. They name it possibilities, and write it with numbers,

"Let me give you an example. There's a fifty percent possibility that I will continue this conversation with my normal face," Loki speaks, letting the Æsir glamour fade and rising to his Jötunn height. "But I won't choose this path because your ceilings are low and I would have to bend my neck," they continue, after walking a few steps and letting their horns scratch the ceiling. The glamour appears again, bringing him to his Æsir skin.

"And there's always the possibility that you die, because of your old age and the stress of the war you created. And the only reason people remember you is as an example of why not to piss me off," he grins, the black ropes tangling around his wrists.

"And the possibility, in Midgardian terms, is one hundred percent," they leap closer and grab the old man by his collar, staring right into the fear in his eyes.

"I have a message for my people in Hel, deliver it when you see them. Tell them to rip this old cunt apart, yet keep one piece for me for when I arrive," he spits, watching as the ropes tangle around their throat and mummify them in front of his eyes, making the fear and anger burn out.

They throw the corpse on the floor and open the doors as the Tesseract casts another light, revealing Loki's chambers as it fades away.

"You shouldn't have scratched the ceiling with your horns," they say, worried.

"And? I laughed at the face of one old fool already, what's a second one? And if I am to join my family, let at least my exit from the hypocrites be dramatic," he laughs, ready for the guards to storm in and take him to the dungeons.

[knightofameris]

of us — edmund pevensie

Request: Ed x Reader when the reader stayed in Narnia after the end of LWW and the Pevensie’s come back and find books about like how she died and there’s a personal letter from reader to Ed and idk lot and lots of fluffiness. Maybe it could start @ the train station with Ed missing her and saying “I get to see (Y/n)” as the train transports them? Idk this is sad but I like the idea.

Setting: beginning of Prince Caspian Contains: Angst, Sadness, a bit of Fluff lmao. Death of reader Word Count: 1467

Parts of it follows the book and not the movie. Also vice versa. Also apologies for the ending being meh. Oh and I added in my own thing lol.

Enjoy! I realized I said I would have Just a Bit of Faith up next but I got writer’s block for that one lmao. I’ll figure something out. Also, apologies to this anon I realized I didn’t copy paste this one into my drafts when I was scrolling through my tumblr the other day. 

[repost from my old blog, 2016, it is now 2020]

(Y/n) sat at the windowsill of her room writing a letter. She stopped reading and looked out into the beauty of the forest beyond Cair Paravel. If she looked more towards her left, she’d see the glistening ocean. Everything was quiet here in Cair Paravel. Her newly wedded husband, Edmund, and his siblings had gone off to hunt for the White Stag. She would have gone along with them but she wanted some time to herself in her room.

Quick footsteps were heard outside the room and the door burst open.

“Queen (Y/n)!” (Y/n) jumped a bit in fright but relaxed when she noticed it was just Mr. Beaver.

“Yes?” She asked. (Y/n) stood up and set the letter down on her desk.

“High King Peter, Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, and-and King Edmund… They’re gone!”

“What?!” (Y/n) walked out and towards the entrance of the Castle with Mr. Beaver alongside her. “How do you know?”

“Their horses was just left there. Philip told us everything. He’s right there.” Mr. Beaver pointed out Phillip who was taking a drink at a nearby pond.

(Y/n) quickly ran over to Phillip. “Phillip? Wh-what happened?"

"Queen (Y/n)! I-I’m sorry. I’ll take you to where they disappeared… I’ll tell you what happened along the way,” (Y/n) nodded and got on Phillip’s back.

“Do you mind if Mr. Beaver comes with us?” Phillip shook his head. (Y/n) held out her hand and he grabbed it to pull himself up.

Phillip set off towards the Lantern Waste.

“They were talking about a sort of dream of a dream about the lampost. Queen Lucy then ran off and went into the bushes over there,” Phillip motioned towards the vines and bushes nearby. That’s when it hit (Y/n). London, England, the War. They had gone back.

“… I know where they went,” (Y/n) said. “They went back to our home world… But they might not come back.”

“Why not?”

“Sometimes the passage opens up, sometimes it won’t. I have a feeling that it won’t open back up for them. Not yet… I-I have to go back. My family might be worried and-and Edmund and the Pevensie’s I have to…”

"But, Queen (Y/n) we won’t have anyone to rule over Narnia… We need you here…” Mr. Beaver said. (Y/n) was torn. She could go back and be with the Pevensies and back even with her own family… Or she can take up the responsibility to take care of Narnia. She chose the latter.

“I-I’ll stay…” (Y/n) replied. Mr. Beaver beamed.

Phillip spoke up, “But after you pass, who will take over?"

(Y/n) smiled sadly and put her hand on her stomach, "The prince or princess that Edmund will never know of…”

***

“It’s been a year, how long does He expect us to wait?” Peter sighed and sat down on the bench next to Edmund.

"I’m sure we’ll be back we just have to be patient,” Susan tried to comfort her older brother. She looked down the tunnel but then she caught the sight of this one boy who tried to ask her on a date of some sort. She turned her head quickly towards her siblings.

“Quick, make it look like you’re talking to me.”

“We are talking to you,” Edmund replied smartly. Susan rolled her eyes.

“Ow! Stop that!” Lucy stood up from the bench in a jolt.

Her siblings looked at her as if she was crazy. Lucy continued to point at the bench. “Something bit me!”

“Lucy what are you- Ow! What was that?” Susan bolted up from her seat. One by one the other two followed suit. The train started to speed by but it sped by too quickly. They all looked around and the other civilians seemed like there was nothing going on. The Pevensies stared at each other and something clicked in their heads.

"It feels like magic!” Lucy smiled.

“We’ll have to hold hands!” Edmund suggested, quickly grabbing Lucy’s but hesitating when it came to his older brother.

A sudden realization came for Edmund, however. “I-I’ll see (Y/n) again!” In the next second, they all saw that they were standing in a cave. The siblings exchanged faces and they ran off onto the beach shore.

Although, something was just not sitting right for Edmund when he entered here. It worsened when he looked up after splashing water on his siblings.

“Were there always ruins in Narnia?” Edmund pointed up above at the ruins on the cliff above.

Edmund looked around the Kings and Queens hidden room. There was an extra chest, however. No doubt it was (Y/n)’s since a statue of her stood there.

“Hey, it’s…” Lucy walked over towards (Y/n)’s chest. “… (Y/n)…” She put her hand upon the statue behind it. Her other siblings stood behind her. One thought went through all of their heads.

“Do you think she’s still… Alive?” Lucy asked the question that they all dreaded and didn’t want to answer.

“… Only one way to find out,” Edmund moved forward and lifted the top of the chest. With a bit of a struggle, he pushed it off. Dust flew up into the air. Edmund fanned it out of his face.

Surprisingly enough, unlike what they found in their chest, there were just books and a letter. On that letter, it read ‘To Edmund.’

“Strange…” Edmund picked up the letter. The dark pit in his stomach just got deeper.

Lucy grabbed one of the books that were right at the top that read 'The End of the Golden Age with Queen (Y/n).“  Susan’s eye caught something else, "The End of Narnia."

"This is quite peculiar, how would (Y/n) know about the End of Narnia?” Peter asked. “I wouldn’t think that Narnia ended right after we left.”

“Perhaps not, but I would know. Especially since I put those there,” a young voice called out behind them. Peter gripped his sword and turned around. “Hey, no need for violence, High King Peter."

"Who are you?” Peter’s eyes narrowed. The (e/c) boy smiled. Something about him looked familiar, but they just couldn’t place it. Edmund stared at this boy with undying interest.

“It’s been centuries since we’ve seen the four of you, I’m assuming the horn worked?” He completely dodged the question.

Susan was taken aback. She looked at him with a confused look. “Horn? Do you mean-”

“Yes, I mean your horn,” The boy then looked over at Edmund. “You still need to read the letter.”  

Edmund looked at him warily. “Not yet, we’re still trying to figure out who you are.” He sighed.

“Guess I can’t avoid this…” He murmured the first part. “Allistor Pevensie, a pleasure to meet my ancestors,” the brunette hair boy bowed. “I just want to say, I’m sorry for your losses.”

“Losses what do you mean-?” Peter almost questioned but stopped.

“The Beavers, Mr. Tumnus…” Lucy started off. Her siblings turned their heads quickly to her. “They’re gone.”

“(Y/n)…” Edmund looked down. “So, she’s not here…” Tears are already forming.

“I-I’m sorry,” Allistor looked at them solemnly. “Th-that letter you’re holding. It holds most of the explanations, the rest I can do so."

Edmund started to open up the letter and read allowed.

"Dear Edmund,

I’m afraid this is the last letter I can write. I’m growing weaker and weaker. I’ve left more letters for you to read and hopefully you’ll be back here in Narnia.

Just so you know, I never did remarry, I took care of Narnia for you and your family, for us. Hopefully, we’ll still be here. The country, I mean.

And, depending on how long it is in the future you read this, hopefully, one of your grandchildren or great times whatever grandchildren will take you around Narnia and show you how it’s changed. To answer it, yes we had a child. I was going to tell you, but you had gone back to England. I’m sorry. She’s beautiful. She has your eyes and your wit. She’s strong yet caring… Her name’s Helen. After your mother. I hope you’re okay with that. It’s a shame you never saw her wedding… Her husband actually took our name instead, in honor of the four Kings and Queens.

I’m hoping this will be the first letter you’ll read. Just know, I still love you and I always will. I’ll be watching over you in Aslan’s Country… I’ll be waiting.

Love,

(Y/n) Pevensie.”

Teardrops started to slowly hit the paper but started to speed up. They were soon accompanied by sobbing.

“I’ll always love you, Edmund.”

[scoooby]

The Reason to Live (is to Die For This)

Read on AO3

Continue to read on Tumblr 

Beta: @tenderlyannoyinglight

Word count: 6.3k

Trigger warning: descriptions of pain, death and violence.

Relationship: Merlin/Arthur *if you don't like merthur it can be taken as gen if you skip the last hundred words

Summary:

"I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't.

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of. He should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him."

In which Merlin is stabbed instead of Arthur. Oops.

Merlin doesn't know where the blood came from, flowing down and not stopping. There's so much of it staining the ground and his clothes, forming a puddle, he feels dizzy and nauseous looking at it. It's been almost ten years, but the sight of injury still repulses him. It scares him even more because he can't find its source. No, it terrifies him. Whose blood is it? Where is he, exactly? But he tries not to dwell on it and wonders where Arthur is. Wasn't he just here? Silly Arthur, always disappearing.

He giggles, then sobers up. He has more important things to worry about. Like the blood. Blood is so red. Like strawberries. He wishes he could make strawberries right now, Freya likes them. Speaking of which, he should probably talk to her soon.

He touches his hand to his abdomen, startled when he feels something wet and sticky. Oh.

Oh.

It's his blood. He's been maimed. He's the one dying.

I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't .

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of, and he should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him.  But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him.

It shouldn’t be. He should be more carefree and alive and happy, like he is now. And he’s so happy.

He distantly hears a thud behind him, as if something heavy, clad in metal, had fallen.  Swords are made of metal. So is armour. Stupid armour. It takes so fucking long to put armour on Arthur.

He feels hysteria rise up in his throat, he feels like laughing, He doesn’t know why. He’s been stabbed, he should care more. But those thoughts don’t even hit him. He wants to run, to jump. He could fly, like Kilgharrah. Or Aithusa. Can Aithusa fly? He would have to ask Morgana.

But Morgana doesn’t like him.

Maybe Balinor would know when dragons start to fly. He knows a lot, right?

Oh, but he can’t. Balinor is dead. Balinor is extremely dead and rotting. Hunith would be sad if she found out, he doesn’t want her to be sad. She deserves the world. He won’t tell her.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, even though there’s no one there. “I won’t tell.”

He tries to get up, but his knees are weak. He doesn't know why his ears have started to ring. Hhhhh. Hhh. That’s all he hears. It sounds weird. Weird. Weirdweirdweirdweirdweird. What a word, All words should be like it.

Everything is just a blob of grey and black. All he sees is a spinning world and green spots in the corner of his vision. He doesn’t mind, he likes green. He tries to say something, to scream maybe, yet all that comes out is a small, meagre groan.

He feels his eyes closing- And that's it. That's all there is-numbness, and then nothing.

Arthur is not ashamed to admit that he killed Mordred. The knight almost killed Merlin and dared to smile after doing so. Arthur couldn't just let him get away with it, no matter how much it pained him. Guilt doesn’t even come to mind. Mordred isn’t worth it - he tells himself as he walks, knees shaking, towards his manservant's body laying still on the ground.

He's bleeding at an alarming rate. His eyes are closed; his face deathly pale. Arthur doesn't bother with modesty as he rips the stupid brown jacket off (one would think he would come into battle wearing proper armor, at least). He had imagined doing it many times before, in entirely different circumstances, maybe with a bed underneath them.

Merlin torso is littered with scars as wood is with lines. Most of them are healed, so that only white lines are painting Merlin’s pale skin, while others are red, but still no cause for intervention. An enormous hole inflicted near his lungs, however does. Arthur’s not new to blood or injuries, but looking at this one does make him wanna vomit.

He stops, unsure of what to do. His hands hover over the body. What can he do, dammit? He knows first aid, Gaius taught him some when he was little. Nothing has ever come  close or as grave as to this. He has been taught to call for the help of nurses, never to do it himself. He has to stop the bleeding, but how ? He's supposed to tie something around it; he remembers that much at least. He looks towards Merlin's face, exhausted and un-moving, a red cloth loosely tied around his neck. All he has to do to stop the blood temporarily, until he delivers Merlin to safe, more medically trained hands, is to tie the stupid red neckerchief around and hope for it to be the right thing.

He prays as he puts it around the gash. He's not entirely sure who he's praying to. It’s an unconscious reflex to beg for health. To be able to say it is someone else's fault, because he knows it's his. He should never have let Merlin come in front of him; let the sword pierce him. Damn him; damn Merlin; damn Mordred; damn the War; damn Morgana; damn everything.

It sickens him, all of it. This cave, this life. The air is dirty. The metallic smell of blood engulfing everything and making it its own. Throwing up would sound like a good idea if Arthur didn’t have more pressing matter at hand.

The air also smells of disappointment. What is he even doing? He's just two years into his reign, the army is practically gone. So many knights are dying in his name, right now,  with their belief in him. And now Merlin is going to die too.

No. Merlin can't die, I won't allow it. His resolve hardens as he picks him up in his arms, Merlin’s head on his shoulder, back bent so gravity can keep the blood inside. and carries him through the mass of dead bodies. Arthur places him on the horse and climbs on behind him, arms on the reins and still supporting Merlin’s head.

It's a long ride home. You have to make it. For him. Is the only thought he clings to.

The aftermath of the war lingers everywhere. Bodies within quarter of a mile of another, their sunken eyes staring at them as the ride past.

No one stops them, too busy focusing on their own injured. Arthur's head is down to not see them. They probably hate him. With all of his being, he agrees.

Morgana, from an early age, showed to be better fitted for the crown. Might have even made Camelot a better place, once upon a time, in a time long gone.

Now they're both just as terrible and ill-fitted for his home.

He tries not to think of her, it’s too painful. So, he focuses on saving Merlin again. Merlin. His best friend, who he had always hoped would become something more. His rock, the only one he could trust. Something he has proved over and over again, but something he had realised only during his father's funeral.

Uther’s death is a recent memory. Arthur had cried until there were no tears left to shed over anyone else after. Not out of love or grievance. His father’s love for him was long gone before he himself was. But because the moment Uther’s life ended, Arthur’s reign began and the feeling of no support or companionship with it. Morgana was gone. Ygraine had never been there to begin with, and the overwhelming responsibility hit him- hard . He had felt so alone. There was no one there for him. No one cared.

Then Merlin had placed a hand on his shoulder, whispered to him, told him he was going to be a great king and that he was sorry. As if Merlin was at fault. As if he wasn't the only reason Arthur was still standing.

It made him see more clearly that he might not ruin the kingdom- his kingdom. A spark of heat, mixed with joy and sorrow ignited like wildfire spread all over his chest, then back, arms and legs followed soon, and finally his face; he returned Merlin’s sentiment with a warm smile.

Maybe that's when he had fallen in love, or when he had realized that Merlin was the only one he could trust. He's still not sure which one it was, maybe the love had come slowly, or maybe, and just the seed had been planted back then, or maybe it had come fact and crashing.

And now he was going to be gone too. Arthur sighs, his eyes drooping from a week of no sleep. Everyone leaves. They always leave. Maybe he still had some tears left.

The dark is disorienting. Is he sleeping? Is he even alive? He has to be, he has to make sure Arthur gets back home.

"Emrys," he hears someone say. No, not someone- Morgana. Her voice is unmistakable, ragged and sickly sweet at the same time. She had always been like that, even before, a dizzying array of opposites.

"Witch," he whispers. "Why have you brought me here?"

The smugness in her voice is apparent, "That's very hypocritical of you, isn't it? After all, you're magical too. More than me, even." She didn't answer his question. "All alone now, aren’t you? No one to save you." He shakes his head; how did he manage to get here? The last thing he was doing was shouting at Arthur to bring him along ("I always thought you were the bravest man I knew." “That’s not fair.") Arthur's face had been so disappointed, and it had broken Merlin's heart. But if the war was still going on, then no one would be coming for him. He will have to get out of this by himself.

"What. Do. You. Want." He grits out, he doesn't have the patience, nor the time for this, he has to help them. The knights are strong, but even the strongest of human kind wouln’t last long against an immortal army. He has to be there with them, to help them, to keep them alive. No matter how much his words hurt, Merlin will still save them, because that is what he does.

She laughs. " You."

"I don't have time for games, leave me be."- turning his head around trying to locate Morgana’s voice; the darkness, the nothingness, hasn’t changed.

"Oh, but why would I do that?" Her cold hands are taking hold of his chin, nails digging into his face. She's right in front of him. Her silky dress pooling onto his feet, the edges of her dirty hair grazing his arms. "I have you right where I want you, no one is going to come to save you. I only need one thing from you." She pauses, her fingers snap; there are fires surrounding them in a circle. He struggles against the bonds of rope he didn't realize were tied onto him, but it's of no use.

She’s clearer now, seen better days too. Bags under her crazed eyes, a ragged and torn black gown, a cloak is gracing her hunched back. Frankly, it looks like she hasn’t taken a bath in months. She doesn’t even resemble the Morgana he used to know, the compassionate and cunning one.

This is his creation; he is the reason she is like this. He never should have listened to the fucking dragon, he should have told her about his magic, maybe things would be different then.

"I won't do anything for you,” he hisses. “I would rather die.”

“Oh, you will.” She says it like it’s a fact as if it’s inevitable that he will die soon, and a tremor goes from his head to his toes in a matter of a second. He’s supposed to be immortal, supposed to live for a long, long time. He’s not scared of dying, he supposes. He’s scared of what will happen afterwards. “And it will hurt, I can tell you that, it will hurt so much.” She inches even closer, impossibly so. “But that won’t be the worst part, no. The worst part will be that no one will care . Arthur won’t care. No matter what you have done for him, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

He’s silent as her words sink in. Sow themselves into his brain, into his heart, tries to convince himself it’s not true.

“Arthur won’t rescue you. You need his help, but he doesn’t have your back. He’s not even looking for you. If you’re drowning, if you’re about to crack, will he even care?” Something on his face makes her look smug like she’s already won. “Face it, Merlin.” That’s the first time she’s called him Merlin and not Emrys since she found out. “You don’t matter to him. He thinks you’re disposable, But I know better.”

Merlin looks up at her. "You're sick," he spits, although it sounds small, unsure. "He would look for me. I know he would." The statement is more for himself than her.

She gives a small, cruel smile as if to convey to him how pathetic he is. “All I need you to do,” she continues, “is to tell me where you are once this ends.”

He's about to ask her what she means, when the fires go out and it all turns dark again.

He stops in the forest, to rest, though he's not sure if Merlin will even survive by the end of it. He lays him down against a rock and lights a fire. He has to make something to feed them, or they'll die of starvation before Morgana's knights get to them. He surveys the clearing they're in, and he's about to walk towards what he is almost sure is an edible plant (emphasis on the almost, kings don't always learn about herbs), when he hears Merlin whispers. He snaps back, his eyes are open, a once tantalizing clear blue now murky and grey.

"Arthur" he murmurs. "Art- I-"

He holds up a hand "I'm here Merlin," he says. "I'm here but don't speak, you need to preserve your energy."

He doesn't listen. "I-I need to tell you something and," he gasps, trying to breathe, "and I need you to listen without interrupting."

Arthur wants to tell him whatever he needs to say probably isn't as important as his life, but the look on his face tells him that it might be.

Merlin shudders, clearly exhausted. "I ha-have magic," he rasps. Arthur's mind goes blank. It's a joke, it has to be. Merlin can't have betrayed him too. He takes a step toward him, to reach out maybe, but thinks better of it.

"Stop being silly," he commands, but it comes out shaky.

Merlin eyes seem wet. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bare whisper, "I ne-needed to tell you. In, in case, I-I, uh, die."

"You can't die." He clasps Merlin shoulder this time, leaning down. "But stop delusioning yourself Merlin. You don't have magic, I would know." It's not real, he would've been able to tell. This can't be true, it can't.

"And I use it for you," he continues, seeing his expression. "Only-only for you."

"Shut up," Arthur whispers. Merlin flinches back. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

"I-," he starts, but he cuts him off.

"Do not speak to me."

Arthur looks at him, something rising in his throat. He thought it would be bile, but it's laughter. Of course, of course, the only person he trusts has magic.

He stands up and walks away, until he's sure Merlin won't be able to see him.

Merlin’s heart sinks as he stares at Arthur’s back, she was right. He told him about his magic, and now he was leaving him to die in a forest, never mind the reason he was dying was that he had taken a sword for Arthur. Never mind that he had spent a decade protecting him, trying to stop hundreds of people from killing someone he himself hadn’t particularly cared for at the beginning. Never mind the fact that he had sacrificed so much, just so he could be comfortable living in a castle built on the sins of his father and the corpses of magic users. Ten years, all down the drain. Merlin wants to laugh, of course, it comes done to this. To Arthur abandoning him because he told him something he didn’t want to hear. Fuck him, fuck the pendragons. Couldn’t let him die in peace.

He stews in it for a while, too tired to cry. Too sick of everything to even care anymore. He won’t tell her though; couldn’t let it all go to waste. She’ll find out anyway, he knows, she has her sources.

Yet, he has more important things to focus on, Arthur will either come back, or he won’t. But his wound stays. The giddiness is gone, replaced with something else. Something warm, like a fire in his stomach.

He presses down on his abdomen.  as he sighs sharply through his nose, it helps with the increasing pain, stabbing his bone and overtaking his senses.

His lungs struggle to breathe, it feels as if they’re filling with water as he drowns; his whole body burns as his back arches and writhes. It’s like there’s thousands of needles being pushed into him from everywhere, as if the needles had been pulled out from a fire before being inserted into him- red hot and painful, so painful. He wants to stand up, to run and jump into a lake, but his legs feel like jelly, he can’t move. It hurts so much. He hears distant echoes of screams; they’re probably coming from him.  And just like that, it starts to ebb. The needles being pulled out hurts more, but the small burns they leave behind are definitely better than it was before. He slumps down against a tree, numb.

He feels his eyes droop. His pain is still shooting through his body, but at least he has some time before he has to feel it again.

He wakes up again in some time, not sure when. It doesn't hurt as much as it did before. He’s just tired. He lays there for what feels like hours, but the sun hasn’t even set, so it was probably a few minutes.

To his immense surprise, he comes back. Arthur… comes back.

"Come back to finish the job, huh?" Merlin snarls, refusing to believe that maybe he came back to help him because he cared for him. It's too good to be true. Arthur is compassionate and he is kind, but not to magic users. "One stab wound wasn't enough for you?"

Arthur's already been saved from the imminent death of his which has been prophesied for a few centuries already, Merlin no longer has to worry, and he doesn't want to either. If this is his reward, to be called a coward, to be ignored and hut out, what everything had been leading up to, he might as well have died years ago. He used to wake up with only Arthur in mind, He loved him, still does. He’s not going to go out any other way.

He was the reason he lived, and he is the reason Merlin is going to die.

Arthur recoils in shock, his mouth is hanging open a little.

Good , Merlin thinks, he needs a wake-up call.

"What?" He asks.

Merlin hopes his expression can convey his feelings and how unamused he is because his throat is clogged up and he's too exhausted to say a word more. He may be a warlock, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is in unbearable pain.

Arthur looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "You- you thought I was going to kill you?"

There's no reply. Arthur comes forward, stops when he sees how scared the other man becomes. He sits down onto the cold, hard ground. "Merlin," he says softly, "I, I'm angry at you, I'm not going to lie, but I would never, never kill you. I- how could you even-" he trails off, he kicks some dirt glumly. "Just, we’ll talk about this when we're back home, okay? When you're better."

Arthur doesn't know how Merlin could think that. He would never- he didn’t even imagine doing anything other than demoting him, at most. He feels betrayed, and he feels let down. But this is Merlin. If he practiced magic, there must have been a good reason.

Fuck. Has he been that bad of a friend? Has he been so distant that Merlin thought Arthur was going to kill him? He knows he should be angrier, and just a few hours ago, he was. He was ready to yell and to scream and to rage, but then he thought of Morgana. About how he used to love her, and how she changed when he turned her away, He doesn’t want the same to happen to Merlin, doesn’t want him to change too. If Merlin dies because Arthur abandons him, he will never forgive himself.

So, as he snuffs out the fire and tries to cover up his tracks, because he knows Morgana will be looking for them, he doesn’t say anything. When he picks Merlin up and places him on the horse, he tries to be as gentle as he can. When he squeezes Merlin's hand in what he hopes is comforting, he just hopes Merlin doesn’t hate him completely.  

Merlin floats in and out of consciousness for what he thinks is a day, but he can’t be sure. When he first wakes up, he’s trotting along on a horse, Arthur behind him, and then he’s in front of a fire, sitting on the ground, then the horse again. Once, he wakes up to strangled screams, but he’s not sure what was going on. He’s too scared to ask. The fifth time he wakes up, however, it’s different. It’s not a coincidence, it’s on purpose, Arthur is shaking him awake. He makes out that they are next to the lake, where he has sent away so many corpses already.

It's calm and serene, obvious to all that is happening around it.

“Wha-” he starts to say blearily, he knows they haven’t reached Camelot yet, so what is going on?

Arthur silences him by placing a hand on his mouth. “We’ve got company,” he whispers. Merlin stiffens up, never a good thing. Not when you’re trekking through the woods, your companion and you both in bad conditions, both starving, one run through with a sword. Not when your companion is the ruler of kingdom which has war being waged against it.

“Arthur,” he says, his voice still sounding heavy and drowsy.

“What?” His mouth feels swollen, and he is incredibly tired, but he can tell he’s agitated, so he doesn't beat around. “Use the sword."

He looks surprised, the expression he hates. The one he uses whenever he realises that he underestimates everyone around him. "I think I know how to use a sword better than you do, Mer lin."

Prat.

"I mean, don't use your old sword, use Excalibur. It can kill anything. " Saying even this much feels like he just ran from Ealdor to Camelot without break, but he manages.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then his eyes widen. "Did you hear that?" His voice is low but urgent. Merlin blinks, he didn't hear anything other than the wind and- oh, he hears it now. There's distant screaming, coming from a woman from what it sounds like. It's barely noticeable, but the sounds of footsteps and something heavy being dragged on the forest floor towards them is much, much louder.

They exchange glances, only for a second. Merlin gestures towards the sword and Arthur nods, not questioning him for once.

Merlin tries to speak, he wants to help, but his throat is becoming clogged, and his vision is becoming blurry and- I am not going to survive. He thinks, before his eyes roll back into his head, and he passes out once more.

Arthur does not dare to say anything, or to do anything, other than stay frozen in his spot, sword in hand.

The noises are coming closer and closer. The screams have subsided now, but the steps have not. He knows he should highball out of there, but he has a feeling that whatever is coming their way cannot be outrun, and 50% of his lessons in swordplay focuses only on telling him to follow his gut.  

"Emrys," says a voice. He inhales sharply, he recognizes that voice; knows it better than he has any right too.

"Morgana," he breathes.

She pouts, looking disappointed. "Seems like our Emrys isn't awake. Shame, I wanted him to see you die." She says it casually, as if she tells her once-brother that she’s going to kill him every day.

He reminds himself - this is not his sister, not the woman he grew up with. If he doesn’t kill her, she will kill him. And she will take his kingdom.

But he never meant for them to get caught up in this, he had to control himself. He can’t rush to hug her or stab her. He can see a flicker of what she used to be, the brave, young woman. He needs her to hold onto that. If she doesn’t, he will have to do it. And he really, really doesn’t want to.

But as she lunges at him, the flicker ebbs out. She has slipped through his hands, and she has changed. She has been carried away by the waves of sorcery, and it has ruined her. He remembers her being his hero when they were young, when they used to sneak out of the castle to look at the stars. Her arguing with Uther over whether it was right to commit genocide, the irony of which has stuck with him. Her teaching him to use the sword, having already mastered it herself. Her forcing him to make friends with Gwen, who grew to become his ex-lover and best friend and surrogate queen. The memories keep on coming, and they don't stop. But she, like everyone else, changed. No matter what time, she is different now. It will never come back. He wants to go back, when they were innocent and naive, when everything was left for them to discover.

But he can’t.

So he fights back instead.

It's all he can do to make his hands steady as his blade sinks into her stomach, as he buries it deeper and deeper until it comes out on the other side. She looks surprised, then grim. She'll be alive for a few days, at most, a few minutes, at best.

But he can't bear to leave her suffering, alive but dying, tortured. So, he stabs her again, this time aiming for the heart, and again. And again. And again. When he is sure that she's dead, he stops, sliding onto his knees. He glares at the sword in contempt. He killed her; he killed his sister.

No .

He killed the woman who wanted to burn his kingdom to the ground. He had no other choice.

But what sort of person is he? He's killed both his knight and his former sister on the same day, with the same sword.

He grips it harder, then looks at the lake. He needs to get rid of it, that's what he needs to do. No one can find out what happened today, he can't let them. He raises it and throws it in. He had thought it would land on the banks, considering how heavy it is, but it doesn't. Instead, the sword flies out of his grip, and cuts through the air, towards the lake. He swears he can see a hand reaching out of the water to catch it, but it's probably a trick of the light.

He turns to her body laid on the ground, eyes open and unblinking, mouth looking as if gasping for breath, cloak sprawled around her like wings. She's dead.

Somehow, he knows if he had used the other sword, she would not be; he knows enough about magic to realise that the high priestess cannot be taken down by a normal weapon.

But Excalibur was not normal, was it? Just another thing to add to his list of questions.

It takes him thirty more minutes to dispose of her body in the lake, staring as it sinks deeper into the water. He doesn't look away, no. He deserves this. He has to remember, and he will.

He doesn't move for a long, long time. Only goes so when he realizes that, although she is dead, Merlin is not yet. Arthur intends to keep it that way. He turns his back on her. Every step drains him, but he does it.

He can't be left alone again.  

It takes them two more days to arrive in Camelot. All of it passes in awkward silence, with Merlin getting paler and paler with every passing second. Arthur doesn’t say anything out loud, but his mind is racing. He doesn’t think of them. He can’t. So he focuses on magic instead. He’s not sure if he trusts magic fully, even now, but maybe he should be more open-minded. Maybe he should give it a chance. Maybe it'll be different than it was with Morga- her.

When he arrives, it is completely different to what he had expected. There are mourners, of course. People in white, downcast expressions, closed windows, doors painted black. But there are also red banners hanging everywhere, citizens cheering as he rides past, ignoring Merlin behind him. Cries of "she is dead" and "the war is over". People are grieving, and there are those celebrating. He doesn't ask how they know of her death, he doesn't want to know. They tell him anyway. Apparently, the army stopped attacking, all of a sudden. They had cried, and shouted, and had turned back. It is unclear why, but Arthur knows he is the reason. Morgana dying at his hands is the reason.

Some help him get to Gaius', seeing how unamused he looks. They clear out the road, offer them water. Arthur is grateful for them, glad that at least some of his people acknowledged the dying man and had tried to help.

The physician is busy when he throws the door open, Merlin in tow. There are many, many people here. All with varying degrees of injuries. Arthur can’t bear to look at them. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. So he ignores them, marches up to him.

“He’s- he’s been stabbed,” he chokes out.

Gaius’ eyes widen, and he rushes to follow Arthur. He lays Merlin out on one of the few empty beds, his body sprawls out on it. It’s sickening to look at as if he’s dead already.

He sets to work immediately, ordering Arthur to fetch herbs and vials and all sorts of things he doesn’t know the uses of. The people around them stare at him blankly, as if they know he’s the king, but they don’t fully recognise him.

He knows when he is not needed anymore, and backs away to watch. It's odd, and it feels so wrong. It's wrong to watch as Merlin is cut open and healed. Like he's invading his privacy. Merlin deserves better than to be put on a show in front of so many people.

He does try to help. Tries to tell as many people as he can to move to the castle, where he is sure more doctors would be willing to help, but some are in too bad of a condition to be moved as they are tended to by nurses. So he elects to focus on his friend instead.

Gaius' hands have always been steady, for as long had Arthur had known him. He cuts open bodies without worry, without even flinching. Which is not the case today, he notices. No, his hands are shaking. Not much as to be obvious, but he's known the man for far too long to not be able to tell when he's scared.

He thinks Merlin is going to die .

Arthur recoils violently. He doesn't know where the thought came from, because it's not true. It can’t be.

Merlin is going to survive. He tells himself.

Merlin. Is. Going. To. Survive.

Merlinisgoingtosurvive

MerlinisgoingtosurviveMerlinisgoingtosurvuveMerlinisgoingtosurvive

He repeats under his breath, rocking himself back and forth on his heels until he almost believes it. He has to.

He's not sure where the time has passed, because Gaius is in front of him all of a sudden but Arthur remembers him standing over the table just seconds ago.

Gaius shakes his head and it takes a few minutes for it to register in his mind. Arthur can't be looking at him, and his heartbreaking face. Just like him, Gaius' only support was Merlin. Was. Not is, was. Merlin is barely dead, and Arthur is already starting to think of him as a memory.

The physician knows what it feels like, but Arthur doesn't care.

"You should've done better," he hisses. He doesn't regret it. Doesn’t regret causing the shock he’s caused Gaius. But it's his fault too. He's the one Merlin took a sword for. But he needs to blame someone else. Because he doesn't want to think of the implications of Merlin dying at his hands. Gaius looks at him as if he is about to break, so Arthur walks away. From him, towards the corpse. He can't bear to face another person he's hurt.

It can't be true. There's got to be something he can do, something. He can't die, he can’t fucking die. Not when there's not much left to say. Not when they've just won. It's supposed to be a thing to celebrate, a war ending, he can't mourn. He can't give a speech to his kingdom which wasn't written by his best friend. Can't lose him. He doesn't think he'll be able to live without him.

He doesn't want to. He won't.

Merlin looks too much at peace, content in a way Arthur hasn't seen him in a long time. His long lashes casting shadows onto his freckled skin, his lips are twisted into a scowl, but he is at peace. He still looks the same, though. Beautiful and striking. Arthur's rock.

And dead.

Arthur’s hands move at their own accord, to stroke the side of his face. A sob escapes him before he can stop it, pushing through his throat. His people need assurance, and him crying like a bloody fool won't help. But that's the last thing on his mind. All he knows is Merlin is dead.

He isn’t able to stop staring, can't help wondering what he will do now. Whether the body will be burned or buried. He will be given a hero's funeral, it's no less than he deserves. He will be clothed in Camelot’s colours, or maybe his Ealdor's. Hunith would know better.

Oh lord, Hunith. She will have to find out through a letter. No. Arthur will have to go to tell her. He can't let her go through it alone.

He's about to turn away, to tell someone to help him move the body when his lips move.

Merlin's mouth opens, just a little bit, but enough to tell that he's alive.

Arthur feels a shock go through him. It was just an illusion.

Right?

"Merlin?" he asks. It can't be true, no matter how much he wants it to be. It was probably a trick of the light, but that can't be right. Because Merlin's eyes are opening and he's staring at him and some colour is returning to his cheeks and oh-

This the man he loves. And he waking up.

"Ar- Arth," he begins but Arthur shushes him. He’s alive, he’s speaking. He doesn’t know how, but it’s real. It’s actually real.

"I'm here," he assures him "I'm here." He shocks even himself as he leans down to kiss him. He's even more surprised when Merlin kisses him back. It only lasts a second before he pulls back, but he just kissed Merlin. It was rough, it wasn't perfect. But he's breathing. They're both here. He can't ask for more.

"Wha- what was," he exhales through his nose, as if speaking taxes him, "that for?"

"I wanted to," he says, shrugging, still not over the euphoria. He just lost him, he’s never going to again. The least he can do is not hide from the truth. "And, I, I also kind of love you. Like, I’m in love with you."

His eyes widen a fraction, but Arthur can tell he’s too tired to question it further.

He wants to say more, he has so many questions as to how he's still breathing, when he started practicing magic, why, but he doesn’t. He has time, they have all the time in the world.

He turns his back, yelling for Gaius. The physician shows up immediately, face lighting up when he takes in the sight of his son very much not-dead.

"We'll figure it out," he says, though he's not sure he heard him over the noise. "We'll figure it out." He grins. Yeah, they'll figure it out.

He swears, Merlin is beaming right back at him.

[tinydragonstories]

Heat vs Steele Pt 1

Masterpost

Logan walks through the corridors of his home, watching servants bustle from room to room. He was quiet as voices surrounded him, gossiping about the potential suitor coming to attempt courting their princely heir. Logan rolls his eyes at the excited tones. Apparently, this man was of the neighboring kingdom and has had his eyes set on the stony prince since he’d heard of the challenge. Logan had compromised with his father on the matter of courting: if the suitor could make him show emotion, he’d allow them to attempt courting him. Now, this wasn’t an easy task, if the last three years gave any indication.

Many have tried, princes and princesses alike, to earn his hand, but none have succeeded in their endeavors. The most he’s ever felt was disgust, and he was easily able to hide it until he was alone again in his library. 

He frowns when he notices he’s at his destination and hangs his head for a moment, the small circlet on his head glimmering in the light. He looks out over the edge of the balcony and watches as a small group of knights ride into the courtyard. His father walks out and Logan groans, realizing he was meant to meet with them shortly. His eyes watch the man in the middle -probably the prince, if that hideous cloak said anything- look around as the king approaches. He freezes when he looks up at him and stares back for a moment before turning and heading inside, the doors closing softly. 

Roman grins at his men as they ride into the courtyard of the Elmarion castle, his horse naturally slowing at the soft tug of the reins. His hazel eyes gaze around at the stone walls until a glimmer catches his eye and he looks up. On the balcony above, meeting his gaze, was the objective of his mission: the supposedly emotionless Prince Logan Lightheart of the Elmari kingdom. He feels his breath catch as those startling blue eyes bore into his very soul before the prince turns and stalks back inside, most likely, coming to meet him at the door. 

“You must be Prince Roman Adalbert from the Hungoria Kingdom! Welcome, my son should not be long in coming to greet you himself, but for now, I can show you the stables set aside for you.” 

“That won’t be necessary sir, if I may speak. A servant boy can show us, if you don’t mind. I’d rather show them how to care for my horse so she doesn’t spook, as I’m usually the one to care for her.” 

“Very well, I understand your reasoning. James!” 

A young boy, around fourteen if Roman had to guess, comes skipping up at the king’s call,” yessir?”

“Show the prince where to take his horse and listen to all he has to say. The horse requires special care.” 

“Yessir!” 

“Good, dismissed. Prince Adalbert, I will have my son wait here for you when he decides to grace us with his presence.” 

Roman chuckles,” yes, your highness, I should not be long.” 

The king nods and stalks inside as Roman follows the boy with his horse trotting behind him obediently. He’s led to a clean stable and removes her saddle as well as her bridle. 

“I can get those for you, sir!” Roman turns to see James struggling to carry the heavy saddle to a stand. He chuckles and trades it for the bridle. Relief fills the boy’s eyes and he listens as Roman describes how he must always be in his horse’s sight or have a hand on her so as not to startle her. James nods, hanging onto every word Roman says. When they’re finally done,Roman dismisses the boy and walks back out to the courtyard, where he sees Prince Logan reading against a wall. The sun is high in the sky as Roman approaches him and glances to the title of the book. 

“I see you’re interested in astrology, mi amour.” Roman takes Logan’s hand and kisses the knuckles before the other prince takes it away from him.

“And I see you’re interested in spanish.” Logan snaps the book shut after slipping a ribbon into place,” shall we begin so as to end this business trip sooner?” 

“My, you have quite the tongue, my dear prince. Are you really that eager to be rid of me?” He winks slyly and is disappointed when his flirting was unnoticed by the stoic prince. 

“To be perfectly honest, I see no reason to court at such a young age, as I intend to rule with a cabinet.” 

Roman frowns inwardly at the man’s clear thoughts.

“Come, I suppose I should entertain you for at least an hour before my father decides to speed this along.” He snaps out of his thoughts and nods  to Logan’s suggestion. 

“What is it you would like to do?” 

“Well, we could go talk, for a start.” 

“Very well,” Logan nods,” come, there’s a bench in the garden. 

As Roman follows the strange prince, he notices the different hues of blue, silver, and white among the flowers as bees buzz around contently. Logan motions for Roman to sit and then takes a seat beside him,” what would you like to discuss?” 

Roman almost says their future but corrects himself,” What are you interested in?”

“Astrology and mathematics, mostly. I also enjoy reading.” 

“So you like the stories of mythical creatures and harrowing journeys the heroes take to rescue their damsels!” He smiles brightly, a connection forming in his mind.

“No, those stories are for children, Prince Adalbert. I prefer the political aspects of reading. The learning and magic of the sciences intrigues me.” 

Roman feels his connection break instantly,” fair enough I assume. Please, call me Roman. I cannot stand the formalities.” 

“Very well, Sir Roman.” 

“Roman is enou-” 

“Logan! You better be with Prince Roman, or I swear I’ll take those books!” 

Logan rubs his temples as his father comes through the flower field,” oh! You actually are for once. Well, I’ll leave you, and your books,” he mentions after an unreadable look from his son,” alone.” 

He turns around and starts leaving,” I’ll be in meetings for a few hours so why don’t you show Roman your brilliant bee hive?” 

“Father, they’re bee hives. They wouldn’t be able to stay in one hive if they all lived together. Well, I suppose I can show you if you are interested.” 

“Anything that interests my love, interests me too. Please, show me.” He stands and offers Logan a hand, frowning when he stands on his own and clasps his hands behind his back. He starts walking away through the flowers and Roman strolls along beside him, watching the gentle touch he shows to the life surrounding him.

“Truly, these flowers are beautiful, but none compare to you, my rose.” 

“How many nicknames are you planning to try, Prince Roman? I’ve heard that one at least ten times by now.” 

Ten times? How many suitors have attempted to win his hand? Roman questions his chances as he follows the other closely. They stop in front of a small greenhouse and Logan holds the door politely for Roman. Stepping through, his nostrils are hit by a nauseously sweet scent and he hears the door click closed behind him.

“You’re smelling the honey, Prince Roman.” 

“Pardon?” 

“That sweet scent, as I’ve heard it described, is the honey the bees produce from their nectar and pollen spread. Come, I shall show you.” Logan leads him further in, already marking Roman down as another failure in his mind. The prince following him had tried everything that had failed the past suitors and he was sure he’d leave the following day, like them. He knew his interests bored the royalty who asked for his hand and he knew that he’d most likely have to drop those interests once he marries. If he can put it off until all the suitors were rejected, perhaps his father would allow him to rule alone and adopt an heir. He had no intentions of being another pawn in the game he was born into. 

Logan opens a box and he sees Roman’s hand go to his belt as he pulls out one of the bees’ queens. Immediately, the hive swarms around him and surrounds their queen on his arm. Roman stares as the man in front of him calmly let the bees walk over his arm, his jacket hanging on a nearby tree branch. 

“How are they not stinging you?” 

Logan watches the hive for a moment before turning those piercing blues to Roman’s soft hazels,” simple, really. The queen recognizes me and as she is uninjured, the rest do not attack. I am no threat to them, and they know I’ll put her back in a moment.” 

He does and the bees dissipate back to the hive. Logan closes the lid of the nest and reaches to his jacket, before seeing Roman holding it open for him. He slips his arms through the sleeves and keeps himself from jumping away when Roman’s warm fingers fix his collar for him. He focuses his attention instead on buttoning the jacket up and fixing the lower edge of his attire. Logan would never admit he misses the warmth when it pulls away, but he simply leads him away. 

“So what exactly is the purpose for having bees under your care, Logan?” 

“Please do not refer to me by my name without my title. We are not friends, nor will you be around long enough for us to become friends.” 

“Is that a challenge, mon amour?” 

“”If that is how you perceive it.” 

Oh, Logan, I do so love a challenge.

“Where to next, my dear?” 

“It depends on where you’d like to go. We have a few extensive libraries, the stables, the fields around the castle are quite appealing this time of year, or my room.” 

Roman grins,” are you inviting me to see your bed?” 

“On second thought, perhaps you could make use of the bathhouse before we go anywhere else.” 

He bursts out in jovial laughter,” you sure do have a way of telling your suitors off, don’t you?” 

He doesn’t respond for a moment,” the others at least made themselves presentable before coming before me. You’re the first to skip the preparation phase.” 

Perhaps I have a chance after all! I stand out already from the others

Roman follows that swishing, deep blue cape as he muses,” my love, why do you seem emotionless.” 

“I assure you, I have emotions figuratively locked away. I’m sure you’ve noticed my father is intent on marrying me off for love, however, I intend to marry for the kingdom’s benefit. None of the previous suitors seemed to have anything beneficial to offer in exchange for my hand and so I refused them. This illusion of ‘love’ clouds their judgement and they cannot see my disinterest.” 

“So their love for you impairs their vision?” 

“Figuratively, of course.” 

“Then I must be going blind, mon amour~” 

Roman groans in disappointment when he doesn’t even get an eyeroll. 

“I assure you, Prince Roman, the best healers we have will see to you if you lose your sight. We’ve arrived.”

Roman looks up at the small building,” why’s it black?” 

“The color retains heat, according to my experiments, and the heat then is transmitted to the water inside. There’s also hot coals under the floor to keep the steam and soap for your use. I will wait out here for your return.”

“Why don’t-” 

“I will not be joining you.” He opens his book and immediately starts reading as Roman enters the bath with a frown. Logan hadn’t reacted t anything he’d thrown at him. Compliments, flirty remarks, nicknames, hell even Remus’ indicative suggestions had no affect on the other prince. But he has to react to something. Perhaps at supper, he’d inquire into it with the king, but for now, he’d have to think of something else. He feels his body wash itself on automatic as he drifts away into his thoughts and it isn’t until he sees his skin has turned red from the heat, does he redress and leave the building. He sees Logan has read a good chunk of his book while he’d bathed. 

“Come, it’s almost time for dinner.” He snaps the book closed and Roman catches a glimpse of the page before he puts it in his jacket’s inner pocket. Logan leads Roman inside, around corners, through halls, and between guards before he pauses in front of the spruce doors. The guards push open the heavy doors and bow as Logan passes through with Roman by his side. The doors close behind him with a soft slam and Logan shows Roman to his seat, pulling the chair out for him. Hazel eyes gaze around the room. They were at a table on a raised platform with balconies on every wall. There were tables laid out below theirs, currently empty, although Roman guessed they’d be filled in a moment judging by the noise outside the room. 

Sure enough, servants and guards come in not long after Logan had taken his seat at the right of his father’s throne with Roman on his right. 

“What’s going on?” 

“My father prefers to have most of the staff here as well as his nobles for announcements during meals. I’m not quite sure why.” Logan whispers back to him as everyone settles in. 

It’s quiet for a moment as the king walks in with two of his guards at his sides. They bow respectfully and he waves dismissively, standing at his throne. 

“Welcome, everyone, to tonight’s dinner! I hope you’ve all had a pleasant day and a productive attitude. Tonight, we have a special guest, please welcome Prince Roman Adalbert from the kingdom of Hungoria!” 

The crowd applauses him, some even wolf whistling much to his embarrassment, but he stands and waves before he seats himself again. A wave of the king’s hand silences everyone,” tonight, we shall see if the rumors are true. If the Hungorian people truly have bottomless pits for stomachs!” 

Roman chuckles along with a few in the crowd and smiles politely to the king,” although we do have quite the appetite, I assure you we do not have bottomless stomachs.”

“Ah, well, that’s a relief for the cooks. Alright, everyone, I’ve held you enraptured long enough; you may eat!” 

The air fills with prayers, silverware clinking, and hushed discussions between people talking about their day. Roman turns to mention his journey to Logan -hopefully to impress him with his wits and strength- but finds himself mute when he sees him with his eyes closed and hands clasped. The candlelight flickers off of his pale skin, shadows claiming the areas under his jaw and the hallows of his eyes as he prays. For the first time, Roman wonders how this man is still single and, not for the first time, swears he’ll warm that cold heart of his.