#so if hypothetically i could get it done on the train...

[asummersday]

on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad of an idea would it be to try to write and post chapter 6 by the time i move out of dorms (next week)

[jjkamochoso]

Matchmaking Mina

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Your kind-hearted captain has taken it upon herself to stoke the flames of love between you and Soshiro!

Warnings: none

Captain Mina Ashiro may act aloof, but she wasn’t blind. Anyone in the Third Division could see that you and Soshiro were the perfect match for each other. If neither of you were going to make the first move, it was only right that she, as your trusted leader, guided you in the right direction. Only, of course, after assessing the situation to make sure you two really did like one another.

*Click*

Her phone captured a snapshot of you at lunch one day, laughing at something Kafka had said. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were creased with joy—you looked positively radiant. Mina made her way to Soshiro’s office, eager to begin her investigation.

“Captain,” Soshiro saluted, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“Just stopping by. Checking on the status of your report from last week.”

“It’s almost done. I’ve been hard at work,” Soshiro grinned, sticking his pointer fingers out.

He’s in a pleasant mood. Let’s see if that changes.

“Good. I also came to show you a new picture of Bakko from the other day.”

It was a plausible excuse; Soshiro was a fan of cats as well and Mina was known for subjecting her friends and subordinates to monologues about how cute Bakko was. The vice captain was now standing by her side, peering over her shoulder at the phone in her hand.

“Here it is—oops! Wrong picture.”

Your picture was the one currently being displayed and from her peripheral vision, she saw Soshiro gulp ever so slightly, his eyes opened a bit wider. She was in no hurry, taking her time to slide her finger over the screen to the “correct” photo.

“Sorry about that. It was a cute photo, though, wasn’t it? Didn’t y/n look nice?”

“Huh? Yeah. I mean, sure,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears a rosy hue.

Now for the real test.

“I’d never seen her laugh so hard, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re around Kafka, right?”

There was an immediate shift of mood in the room, tension filling the open space like a dam had burst. Soshiro had gone from blushing to bloodthirsty in a millisecond and Mina was thankful she’d been blessed with a poker face or else she’d be bursting in laughter at his very apparent jealousy.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I should finish this report.”

Soshiro saluted her again before sitting at his desk and Mina took her leave.

Well, that was informative.

Now she knew that Soshiro definitely harbored a crush for you and a hatred for Hibino. As she walked down the empty hallway, she let a small smile grace her lips.

She loved love.

Mina did the exact same experiment to you a few days later. As a fellow cat enthusiast, you were very excited at the prospect of seeing new Bakko content, quickly taking a seat next to your captain. This time around, she had managed to take an extremely flattering picture of Soshiro during training. He was standing outside, slightly flushed from the previous physical exertion, with one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair out of his face.

Maybe if I ever retire I’ll become a photographer.

“…and there’s Bakko-oops. Not this.”

Your mouth was partially agape and she spied how you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the man on the screen. His tight fitting shirt hugged every curve of every muscle. His physique and pose were reminiscent of a model you’d see on a billboard in downtown Tokyo or on a runway in Paris.

“T-that’s a great picture you got of Vice Captain,” you breathed out in awe. “He looks so… hot.”

“If you’re into that sort of look, sure,” she answered.

“I definitely am,” you said dreamily, clearing your throat with embarrassment when you realized you said that out loud. “I mean, yeah. If someone was… hypothetically, like… into that sort of… thing.”

Mission 100% accomplished; they’re very much into each other.

Next up was the hard part of figuring out how to get confessions from the two of you without meddling too much. That’s why she was hoping today’s training, with you being partnered with Kafka, would be enough to stir up those same feelings and visceral reactions you both had while looking at the photos of each other not that long ago. So far, it was working splendidly. Kafka would say or do something ridiculous, causing you to howl with laughter and Soshiro to shoot Kafka a burning glare that could rival the intensity of a wildfire. Meanwhile, Soshiro would take his frustration out on the sparring training dummies, in turn leaving you dumbstruck at the way he moved so majestically and remained the most handsome man on earth, even in a state of sweaty exhaustion. When training was finally over, Mina couldn’t slow the buildup of anticipation deep inside her, eager to see the lovebirds admit their feelings, or at the very least, converse with each other. Neither of those things happened; you and Soshiro didn’t even exchange eye contact before going your separate ways.

Mina frowned. Didn’t she plant the seeds of attraction, water the foundations of a relationship, nurture the-

Looking back, I guess I didn’t do all that much.

“L/n.”

You turned around immediately at the sound of your captain’s voice, saluting as the dark haired woman approached you. You had just finished showering after a grueling day of exercise and were on your way to your room to get some much needed rest

“Come with me, please.”

“Right now?” you asked incredulously, eyes raking over the cat pajamas you were sporting. “Should I change into my uniform really quick?”

“No need,” she replied, “it’ll only be a moment:”

“Alright then.”

You were thoroughly confused but who were you to question your captain? You followed behind her dutifully, like a child following their mother to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk after a nightmare. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as she brought you into Soshiro’s office. He, too, had just showered, but he had changed into a fresh tracksuit, presumably because he never stopped working.

“Captain! What can I do for… you?” Soshiro faltered when he saw you peek out from behind Mina.

“I’m horribly underdressed for whatever’s happening. I sincerely apologize,” you said, bowing your head as to not meet his eyes. You weren’t that far below Soshiro’s rank, being a Platoon Leader, but you didn’t want your superior seeing you in such a state of disarray with your wet hair and casual attire in the office. Soshiro, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Y/n! I didn’t see you back there at first. I like your pajamas, cats are always a good choice.” His fanged smile brought you a sense of comfort,

“Thank you.”

You two would’ve gotten lost in each other’s eyes if it weren’t for Mina reminding you she was still there.

“Let me explain what’s going on. Y/n, Soshiro likes you. Soshiro, y/n likes you.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop from across the base. You and Soshiro broke eye contact at breakneck speed, becoming self conscious and wary.

Mina was confused. Weird. Aren’t they supposed to kiss or something, like how it happens in books?

“I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

Mina practically ran out of Soshiro’s office, getting hit with a whole slew of mixed emotions as she made her way to her own office. Was she wrong for getting involved in her subordinates’ love lives? Did she somehow misread the signals you both were giving off? Was her conclusion incorrect, leading her to be labeled a fool, unfit for a leadership position? She fretted all night thinking about the lack of response you and Soshiro had about the great news. The next morning, as she got ready, she thought of all the ways she could explain her behavior and hoped this situation wouldn’t lead to her getting fired (worst case scenario) or you and Soshiro feeling awkward around each other (bad case scenario). You two worked extremely well together, neutralizing kaiju with just glances and nods, no words needed, and she’d never forgive herself for ruining such a good team.

Mina fiddled with her jacket one last time before lifting her chin up and making the trek to her office to start the day. To her surprise, the door was ajar, you and Soshiro apparently waiting for her arrival.

Goodbye Third Division, hello HR…

“Captain,” you began, “Soshiro and I really appreciate what you were trying to do for us, but-”

“I overstepped my boundary,” she cut in. “I’m ashamed that I let my self control slip and I put my subordinates, the people in my care, in an uncomfortable position. I don’t know if I can ever regain your trust again, but I swear that I-”

“Captain.”

This time it was Soshiro who spoke out of turn. “My deepest apologies for interrupting you, but you don’t need to be sorry. Your intuition was correct—y/n and I do like each other.”

Mins could’ve cried tears of happiness hearing that, especially knowing that her job wasn’t at stake anymore, but her joy was turned to confusion when she noticed you and Soshiro share a glance, making a wordless agreement, and then both reaching into your shirts…?

She watched with curious eyes as a chain entered your grasp, previously hidden from view under your shirt, a small ring hanging down from it. Soshiro did the same, a matching ring gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It was then that the inquisitive, intelligent, intuitive captain made the connection—

“Soshiro and I are married,” you said, sheepishly glancing over at your husband. Now it was Mina’s turn to be deadly silent. However, you could tell she wasn’t upset, she was busy comprehending everything that was revealed to her.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” explained Soshiro, “because we didn’t want it to become an issue at work. In retrospect, we could’ve hidden it a bit better.”

He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “Though Kafka doesn’t ever seem to get the hint.”

“But we know we can trust you with our lives and we should’ve at least told you. I’m sorry for lying to you, Captain Ashiro,” you said, your head hanging low.

That’s when you heard the strangest sound.

Captain Mina Ashiro… was laughing?

“This was an interesting turn of events,” she eventually said, catching her breath. “It turns out I was correct, but not in the way I thought.”

She strutted over to her desk, sitting down and starting the computer. “If that’s all you had to report, then you’re dismissed. It’s time to go to work.”

She looked up one last time, quirking an eyebrow. “Or are you on your honeymoon?”

[serafilms]

the golden quartet

art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader, wc: 2k

author’s note: basically just a way less toxic (?) version of the movie with the reader inserted. they’re all still incredibly codependent and tashi/reader are very much in love and art/patrick are very much in love and art/tashi have their own kind of friendship/relationship and so do patrick/reader, but really patrick and tashi are one couple, art and reader are another couple, but like they would all live together and probably sleep in the same bed hypothetically. but in a healthy way. i like to imagine a world where they’re all codependent but skip all the “villain” allegations in their mess, and it’s just a beautiful unspoken symphony of love and four-way fidelity and infidelity. will probably write more in this universe.

part two here

“Tashi, stop it.”

Tashi stops and her eyes lock in on you, racket dropping to her side. “Stop what?”

You watch the way she bounces the ball a few times and don’t miss the way her gaze keeps flitting to your hand.

“Stop analysing me.”

She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, and doesn’t break your gaze. “It’s my job to analyse the opponent so I know how to win the game.”

“Yeah, but you’re not looking at me like an opponent.” Your lips purse. “You’re looking at me like you’re trying to calculate how to get me back on the court.”

“You’re on the court right now, aren’t you?”

“You know what I mean, Tashi.” Your racket falls to the court exasperatedly and you manage a step towards the net. “It’s over for me, I’m done playing tennis and I’m okay with that, but I’m not sure that you are.”

There’s just a tiny quiver in her eyes before her gaze steels itself again and she nods. “Fine. I get it.”

She tosses you the ball. “Just help me train.”

You watch as Tashi gets into position, and pick up your racket slowly. Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped at her. You so rarely do, but you’ve closed the door on that chapter of your life now, and you’re sick of her trying to pry it open. You don’t want possibilities of what you could have had. You don’t want to put in more years just to watch yourself fail at something you never really liked in the first place.

There’s a dull ache in your chest as you serve the ball.

Tashi Duncan has been your best friend for five years. For the life of you, you can’t remember the details of the tournament you were at, but you had a game against her. It was electrifying. You’d never played tennis like that before. It felt like you’d never known what it was like to breathe before Tashi Duncan. She basically crushed you, but you managed to get in a good few points, had the audience and line judges on the edge of their seats, and at the end of it, when you shook her hand, you felt like you’d just discovered a missing limb.

She found you afterwards in the stands and sat with you to spectate the next few matches. And hadn’t let you go since. You couldn’t imagine a life without Tashi. She was there for your first boyfriend, she was there when you broke up with him, she was there when you failed a class and your parents threatened to pull you out of tennis, and she was there when your wrist shattered and you quit.

Tashi never really understood why it was so easy for you to walk away. “You’re one of the best,” “You have so much potential,” “You can learn to play with your other hand.”

She never seemed to hear you when you said you didn’t want to play anymore. She’d look at you, with her piercing gaze then look away and move on. But the conversation was never over. It was like you didn’t exist to her without tennis, like it was your one achievement, and she couldn’t gauge who you were without it.

You suppose you were flattered, touched even, that she cared so much about you, in her own weird way.

Tashi looks at you questioningly when you lower your racket. You smile, “You should rest up. Your drills are perfect. You’re gonna crush her tomorrow.”

She takes a look at her watch, then nods. You can tell she wants to stay longer, but there’s really no reason to. Especially when you can feel her itching for a real match. That you can’t give her.

You bump her shoulder as the two of you walk out. “Wanna grab some donuts?”

The unimpressed face she gives you makes you laugh. “Come on, we can get you one of those healthy ones. The gluten-free, vegan bullshit.”

“Sounds delicious,” she drawls, but makes no further comments. You grin. A success.

She says nothing as you swing your borderline crippled arm over her shoulder, but you feel her muscles underneath relax just a little bit.

The following day brings a new round of pretentious young assholes on the court. Some of them eye you up as you make your way into the bleachers, whispering to each other. A girl comes up to you and asks for a picture. You’re a little surprised, and feel a little blindsided, but you suppose it’s only been a year since your injury. And well, considering where you are right now, it sure does seem to the rest of the world like you’re not fully done with tennis.

“Yeah, no problem,” you say with a smile.

The girl takes the picture, thanks you profusely then leaves, and you make your way up to the bleachers, and find a nice spot in the middle. Tashi liked you to be right in the middle of the game so you could watch her and her opponent. You wonder if she’s secretly preparing you to become an umpire.

There’s a flurry of whispers all too close to you, and then there’s a shadow blocking the sun to your left.

Two boys stand facing you, staring at you with their mouths slightly agape. You can’t help the amused smile that splits your face.

“Can I help you?”

The brunet snaps back into reality first. “Sorry, we were just— are you Y/N L/N?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say, eyes flitting between the two. They’re cute. Really cute.

The blond shakes his head slightly, like he’s coming out of a trance, and says, “Sorry, this is just the first time we’ve seen or heard about you since….you know.”

He winces, and his head ducks a little like a scolded puppy. “Sorry to hear about that, by the way.”

You let out a laugh that seems to catch his attention again. His friend jabs him in the side with his elbow. “Oh, don’t worry about it, seriously. It’s been a year, I’m over it.”

“Huh,” he says, nodding a little absently. He glances to the brunet, who’s just grinning at him. “Um, by the way, we’re—“

“Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig, right?”

The blond, Art, looks a little speechless.

Patrick chimes in. “Yeah, that’s us.”

“I watched your game just before. That was quite some victory celebration.”

The way Art’s ears turn red makes you happier than you’d like to admit. There’s a little flip in your stomach as he fumbles, “Yeah, well…”

There’s a flurry of movement as Patrick puts his arm around Art’s neck and pulls him impossibly close in a one armed hug. “Social conduct’s not gonna get in the way of me celebrating with my boy.”

The blond leans away and fights to get Patrick off him, and you smile as you watch. “Don’t worry, it was cute. Plus, I get it. We’re sort of the same way sometimes when it comes to victories. I mean, not the same, but you know.”

That seems to catch Patrick’s attention. “By we, do you mean you and—“

“Tashi Duncan!”

The announcement rings loud and clear through the speakers as she walks onto the court.

It’s almost comical the way Patrick’s jaw goes slack and he slumps onto the seat behind him.

You watch as Tashi waves at her screaming fans, shoots her winning smiles and makes her way to her side. She catches your gaze for a moment and you nod. She looks away and begins to stretch, but you’re not bothered. She knows you’re here, and that’s all you need. Can’t try and take Tashi Duncan out of the zone.

As you sit down, you’re a little surprised to find Art mirroring the action, still looking at you. “So, you’re best friends with Tashi Duncan?”

You nod. “Since we were like, thirteen.”

“Oh wow,” his eyes widen and you can’t help but think how impossibly cute he looks, “that’s almost how long Patrick and I have been friends.”

“Really? Oh, wow.” There’s a beat of silence, just long enough for you to catch each other’s eye and look away with awkward giggles.

Luckily, that’s when the match starts. And your focus locks in.

“COME ON!” Tashi’s scream is palpable in the air.

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. You’ve heard it a million times before, but it never fails to strike you.

There’s something akin to awe in Patrick’s eyes. Art looks like he’s in disbelief.

You can’t help but agree with their faces.

“So, are you guys coming to the party tonight?”

Patrick’s eyes flit away from Tashi’s to look at you. “Yeah, we were just talking about earlier. Art was saying how excited he was. He just loves parties.”

You can’t quite decipher the smirk on his face, but he looks like the kind of guy who’s never up to any good, so you turn to Art expectantly.

His eyes meet yours and your stomach does another little flip as he says, “Yeah, I’ll— we’ll be there.”

“Cool,” you reply. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

You manage one quick glance back as you walk away, and see Patrick grinning and shaking Art’s shoulders. A smile plays at the corner of your lips and you leave.

Tashi finds you at your agreed-upon meeting spot, and wastes no time in grabbing your hand. “Come on.”

“Don’t you need to take pictures with your trophy?”

“Got a few, they’ll take more at the Adidas party. We’ve got to get ready.”

There’s a warm feeling like sunlight dancing in your chest as you let her drag you away.

The party is in full swing by the time you finally spot Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig lurking in the corner of the yard.

You’d just stepped off the dance floor for a moment, telling Tashi you were going to get another drink. The two boys seem to be arguing about something, but as you close the distance, you can see that they’re grinning too.

“Hey,” you greet the two. Their heads turn towards you in unison and they both stand up straight.

“Hi,” they chorus.

You take a sip of your drink as your eyes flit between the two. “So….what are you guys doing all the way over here?”

“You know,” Art says dryly. “Just enjoying the ambience.”

(Cute and funny. Man, you’re screwed).

“It’s a lot less creepy if you actually talk to her instead of just staring at her.” Your words are directed at Patrick, whose eyebrows shoot up. A smirk falls on his face. His charm instantly covers up the awkwardness.

Art barks out a laugh. (It’s a sound you wish you could inscribe in your mind).

“What makes you think I’m here for her?” Patrick smirks, looking you up and down. It’s so clearly a deflection, but it feels so natural that you can’t help but smile, and you feel your cheeks warm just a tad.

You glance back at the dance floor, and see Tashi excuse herself, glancing at you as she goes for her drink. You reach over to pat him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”

As you turn on your heel and walk towards Tashi, you hear a slap behind you and an, “Ow!”

“Tashi!” The smile in your voice is audible as she looks up.

“Hey,” she smiles back.

Then, her head tilts to the side and she looks at the boys. “Hi.”

“Hi,” they both say.

There’s a quiet moment in which you all exchange looks, a twinkle in each of your eyes. You can almost feel a spark of something in the air, and suddenly you’re thirteen years old again, meeting Tashi for the first time. Like another puzzle piece has finally fallen into place.

You feel your chest warm. If only you knew what your life was about to become.

[thydungeongal]

As someone who creates 5e adjacent content I have a dark secret I must confess...

I love dice-pool games.

The only reason I don't create a dice-pool game is that there's so few levers to pull for dice-pool manipulations that make any kind of meaningful distinction in the resolution mechanic to generate a mechanical-to-narrative sensation of character differentiation.

The day I solve that problem as it percolates in the back of my mind is the day we get a new dice-pool game system.

There's a few interesting tricks I've run into in dice pool systems:

Dice pool systems usually start by taking some features of a character, usually something like an ability/attribute and something like a skill, but it could be anything, and combining those into a dice pool. Now, most games don't actually do more in this step than just counting the final total of dice. But there's one axis of information that is rarely used: the type of dice.

For an example, in a hypothetical Attribute+Skill system, assume that a character assembled their dice pool from Strength (an attribute) and Athletics (a skill) and the rolled dice were color-coded depending on their source.

Now, if you want some proper oWoD jank in your game you can make it so that dice that come from attributes have a higher threshold of success than dice that come from skills, representing the importance of training over raw strength. You've now addressed the "untrained skill" penalty that is often tackled via penalties to dice pools. However: this does result in extra friction. One of the benefits of having a static threshold of success is that you can quickly eyeball how many successes you have.

Which leads to the next question: why limit the dice in your dice pool to a single type of die? Staying with the above example, let's assume that the success threshold is a 5 or above, and the average die in the pool is a d6. Now you can introduce d8s as a type of die that represents. Something. Incidentally, the switch from a d6 to a d8 in a system where the threshold of success is a 5 results in a similar change of probabilities as keeping the dice d6 but changing the threshold of success to 4.

Anyway, there's other types of neat tricks you can do. nWoD has "10 again" which means that dice that come up a 10 count as successes and are rolled again, with some abilities allowing for "9 again" or even "8 again" on specific tests, or if they represent a hindrance or penalty on the character they may even counteract "10 again" in specific circumstances.

And I'm sure there's a bunch of other stuff that can be done with dice pools. Heck, I've seen games that use dice pools of Fate dice, where results of + are used to add benefits or bonuses to the action from a pick-list while results of - are used to cancel penalties or misfortunes (which are all assumed to happen by default!). So there's a lot of information you can get out of dice pools, you just need to keep looking for it!

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

(Obviously this excludes "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan" that was already done HERE)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> NEXT PART

In "The Once and Future Queen"

In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, very enthusiastically, carrying Arthur's breakfast) Raise and shine! 😊

Arthur: (already awake, definitely not waiting for Merlin to arrive) You're late. You literally sleep next door. How can you still be late?

Merlin: Oh, don't act like you don't appreciate the extra hours of sleep. (puts the breakfast on the table) Your breakfast.

Arthur: (surprised) Wow, that's... a very generous breakfast.

Merlin: Only the best for the best.😊

Arthur: ... Right. (gets off the bed and sits to eat his breakfast) Have breakfast with me. You must be hungry.

Merlin: There's no need. I have mine here (takes a bread out of his pocket) That breakfast is all for you, my lord. I made sure to have your favourites, ham, cheese, even sausages-

Arthur: Did I do something?

Merlin: What? 😧

Arthur: You only ever being this good when you are mad at me.

Merlin: I'm not mad. If I was I would've woke you up very early in the morning.

Arthur: Then what is it?

Merlin: Nothing! Can't I just want to be a good servant once in a while?

Arthur: (looks at him suspiciosly) Eat with me then.

Merlin: That's very nice of you my lord, but I'm a servant. I wouldn't dare to eat at the same place of a royal.

Arthur: (panics)

Merlin: (laughs) I'm kidding! (sits infront of Arthur, takes a ham and puts it in his bread) See? I'm not mad. (takes a bite)

Arthur: (sighs in relief) Alright. (starts eating)

Merlin: (serves himself a vase of water) Oh, you know the jousting tournament is coming, right?

Arthur: I'm aware Merlin. I'm participating in it.

Merlin: Yeah, Gwen and Lancelot always go to watch you... uhmm... joust and stuff. (drinks all his water in one go and serves himself more) Lancelot especially enjoys watching you.

Arthur: Uhum. (keeps eating)

Merlin: And Gwen was wondering, just out of curiosity, of course, if you had the means to maybe... let him participate in this one?

Arthur: (puts down his food abruptly) I knew it!

Merlin: Arthur, please! 🥺 It would mean a lot to Lancelot to be able to join this tournament.

Arthur: Don't give me those eyes! 😠 You know I would let him join if I could. But I can't change the Knight's code and Lancelot is not a noble so he can't participate.

Merlin: (tentatively) But what if we could, hypothetically speaking, pass him as a nobel?

Arthur: That's identity fraud! (Thinking) What am I even surprised? He did this for me before and I bet he was the one who made Lancelot's fake seal in my timeline too.

Merlin: It would be just for this tournament, no one will find out. Please 🥺.

Arthur: No, Merlin. I'm already giving him a knight training behind my father's back. And You know we are walking on very thin ice with him. So I won't risk it.

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, but when it was about defending your pride You had no problem with it 😑... Wait, that's it! (Says) I understand. It's a shame. I was looking forward to watch Lancelot beat you.

Arthur: (offended) You think Lancelot could beat me?

Merlin: I mean, he's been doing great progress.

Arthur: That doesn't mean he can beat me. I'm still his teacher.

Merlin: You heard that old saying "Student becomes the master"?

Arthur: Lancelot wouldn't stand a chance against me!

Merlin: Well, I guess now we'll never know. (drinks his water in one go again and stands up) Enjoy the rest of your breakfast, I have chores to do. (starts leaving)

Arthur: What do mean? You still have to dress me. Merlin!

Merlin: (already gone)

Arthur: (sighs and looks Merlin's bread on the table) That idiot, he didn't even finish his breakfast. (keeps eating, then mumbles, annoyed) Lancelot beating me. As if!

Time skip. Merlin going to the laundry with Gwen.

Merlin: I can't believe you talked me into this.

Gwen: So he said yes?

Merlin: Not yet, but he's about to. In three... two... one.

Arthur: (calling from afar) MERLIN!

Merlin: (smiling) Start preparing Lancelot's armor. (leaves)

Time skip. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen and Lancelot in Gwen's house.

Lancelot: You are doing WHAT?! 😨

Arthur: (confused) Pass you as a nobel for the tournament. Didn't you ask Merlin to convince me of letting you join?

Lancelot: NO! I would never abuse of Merlin's influence like that, my lord.

Arthur: Influence?

Gwen: It was me who asked, love. (stroke Lancelot's arm) You always have this yearning in your eyes every time we go to a tournament. I wanted you to experience it at least once.

Lancelot: (holds her hands lovinly) Guinevere, you know I love you and that you managed to organize all this just to make me happy makes me love you even more, but I can't let you do this. You could get in serious trouble. (points at Merlin and Arthur) All of you could get in serious trouble. Everyone knows me here. There's no way I could pass as a nobel.

Merlin: You have nothing to worry about. Everything is perfectly planned. Arthur payed a farmer to pose as Sir William of Deira when you are not jousting. And since he is from one of the outlying villages, no one will recognise him.

Arthur: Gwen has the armor and weapons, I the resources. The only thing you'll have to worry about is to not take your helmet off.

Lancelot: I'm surprised you agreed to this, Sire.

Arthur: Well, if I didn't I was risking Merlin and Gwen passing you as a nobel either way. Besides, I figured if I really wanted you to be my knight one day, you'll need to have all the experience you could get.

Gwen: And he wanted to prove Merlin he could beat you.

Lancelot: Oh, that makes more sense. (sighs, but then smiles) Alright, I'm in. (holds Gwen's hands again) Will you cheer for me?

Gwen: You don't even have to ask (kisses his cheek)

Arthur: (turns to Merlin) Will you cheer for me?

Merlin: (snorts) Are you kidding? I can't wait for Lancelot to beat your ass. (suddenly makes a gesture of pain)

Arthur: (worried) Are you okay?

Merlin: (with labored breathing) I'm fine. I just... forgot the carpenter works nearby.

Gwen: I'll get you some water! (leaves quickly)

Arthur: (guides Merlin to a chair) Lancelot, stay with Merlin. I'll talk to the carpenter.

Merlin: (grabs Arthur's wrist) No... Arthur... Let him be. He's just... doing his job. I'm... the one who... has to get... used to this. (takes deeps breaths) Just... hold me... please.

Arthur: (bends and holds Merlin) That's it. In and out, in and out.

Merlin: (his breathing evens and calms)

Lancelot: (in relief) You're getting better at it.

Gwen: (comes back with a vase of water) Here. Take this.

Merlin: (drinks it all in one go)

Gwen: Not so fast! You could choke!

Arthur: Don't worry he always drinks... water like this. (realises, thinking with growing concern) Now that I think about it, he's been drinking a lot of water lately... and eating less.

Merlin: (smiles at Arthur) I'm better now. You can let go.

Arthur: (Doesn't let go, frowning, still lost in thought)

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: (snaps out of it, looks at Merlin and gives him a soft smile though it's a bit wavery) Can you stand up? (Helps Merlin stand up still holding him)

Merlin: (giggles) Seriously, I'm fine.

Arthur: (finally lets go) Good. Because we have a lot of work to do.

Time skip. At night in Merlin's chambers. Merlin wakes up, there's no noise, but he has the feeling an intruder has entered, he just knows he's not alone. He gets up slowly and walks around the room alert, ready to use his magic.

Merlin: (whispers) I know you are there. I'm not scared of you.

Myror: (comes out of a shadow, dagger in hand) So the prince's little boy toy has guts. Or should I say "Unicorn Catcher"? You've built quite a reputation.

Merlin: Such as you, "The most feared assasin in all the known lands". Uther doubled the security, which means you had help to enter. Though why are you here in my room completely baffles me.

Myror: (presses Merlin against a wall abruptly and puts the dagger at his throat) Don't play dumb with me, boy! I know from a good source that your chambers conects to the prince's.

Merlin: Oh, so you do have an informant, great.

Myror: (perplexed at Merlin's calmness and then smirks a little) I must say I'm impressed. People usually start screaming by now.

Merlin: So Arthur comes to my aid and you can kill him? (whispers even more quitely) Not a chance.

Myror: (presses the dagger more against Merlin's throat and it starts bleeding) I can make you scream in other ways (threatenly) Where. Is. The. Door?

Merlin: (who definitely hided and blocked the door with his magic) I. Won't. Tell. You.

Myror: I don't need you to scream (Shouts) PRINCE AR-

Merlin: Atæse!

Myror's dagger flies and cuts his throat, effectively killing him.

Merlin: (just looks down Myror's body until it stays still) I can't believe even the assassins know that stupid nickname. (puts his fingers on the wound on his throat and sighs) This is going to leave a scar.

Time skip. In the throne room. Uther sitting on the throne with Morgana at his side and Arthur with Merlin at his side standing infront of them.

Arthur: (very surprised) He's... dead?

Morgana: (smiles, relieved) It was a very close call. I'm glad nothing happened to you.

Uther: At first we thought he died because he fell while trying to climb the tower to your chambers, but the cut in his throat indicates the cause of death was another.

Arthur: So he was killed.

Morgana: What a fitting fate for an assassin.

Merlin: (about to laugh, but keeps it together)

Uther: Still. Odin must be made to pay for his actions. We must strike back at him.

Arthur: Surely you understand the grief he feels for the loss of his son. We should try to make peace with him. There's been enough bloodshed. (thinking) And is not the bloodshed I'm looking forward to.

Uther: Perhaps you're right. (sighs) If you don't mind, I'd like speak with you. (looks at Morgana and the Merlin) Alone.

Merlin: (hangs his head) Of course, Sire (bows and leaves)

Morgana: (stands up and bows) My lord (leaves)

Uther: Why didn't you inform me? Or call the guards?

Arthur: (confused) What?

Uther: You are not invencible, Arthur. No matter how skilled you think you are, that was a trained assassin. You could have died!

Arthur: ... You think I killed Myror?

Uther: He was found at the foot of your tower! And which are the only windows he could have been thrown from?

Arthur: Mine and... (realises, thinking) Merlin's! (says) You're right, it was very careless of me. It wasn't my chambers he entered though.

Uther: (realises) Oh... It makes sense. Your chambers were too secured to enter directly.

Arthur: And Merlin's weren't. You know why? Because you refused to give him any guards!

Uther: We talked about this. I won't waste my guards on a servant.

Arthur: He is not any servant, he is The Prince's manservant. It's obvious Myror tried to get to me through Merlin. And he won't be the last who tries.

Uther: And whose fault is that? It's not me who made his affections towards his servant very open!

Arthur: ...

Uther: (sighs) You are dismissed.

Time skip. The tournament. In Lancelot's tent.

Gwen: (gives Lancelot her favor, blushing) I thought you might... wear it for luck.

Lancelot: (smiles and takes it, blushing a little too) My lady-

Gwen: Still not a lady.

Lancelot: My Gwen. I'll wear it with honor. (kisses her)

Gwen: (kisses back)

Sir William/Farmer: (just entered) Uhm...

Merlin: (just entered too, coughs loudly)

Gwen and Lancelot: (pull away from each other, very embarrased)

Sir William/Farmer: They're nearly ready for you.

Lancelot: I'm almost ready (turns to Gwen) Would you...? (gestures the favor and his arm)

Gwen: Oh, right. (ties the favor in his arm with a smile)

Merlin: (mockingly) This was your plan all along wasn't it, Gwen? To fulfill your fantasy of having a knight in shining armor fighting for you.

Gwen: Shouldn't you be attending YOUR knight in shining armor, Merlin?

Merlin: You mean a prat in shining armor that I cleaned. I already put his armor on, I just came to wish Lancelot luck too. (to Lancelot) Not in the same way, of course.

Lancelot: Thank you, Merlin.

Gwen: I'm surprised you still have your neckerchief on.

Merlin: (blushes) He didn't manage to steal it this time.

Gwen: Why not give it to him for a change?

Merlin: ...what?

Lancelot: Remember what I told you in the woods? About making a move?

Gwen: And it's perfect! If he reacts badly you can disguise it as a joke... but if he doesn't 😏.

Merlin: (even more red) You are all crazy. (leaves)

Gwen: (sighs) Waiting for them to get together, it's almost as frustrating as waiting for you to ask my hand in marriage.

Lancelot: What?! 😳

Gwen: Nothing! 😄 (leaves)

In Arthur's tent.

Merlin: (enters) Nervous?

Arthur: Not at all.

Merlin: Really? Because you have a real opponent this time.

Arthur: If you are so sure Lancelot will win, why not make a bet?

Merlin: A bet?

Arthur: If I win, which I surely will, you'll have to do whatever I ask for a week?

Merlin: Don't I already on a daily basis? 😒

Arthur: Above the line of duty. But, if Lancelot wins you can ask anything of me for a week. Anything and I'll do it.

Merlin: (smiles mischievously) Alright. I hope you don't mind doing my chores for a week.

Arthur: (smiles back) We'll see about that.

People cheer outside.

Merlin: They are... waiting for you, my lord. (thinking about Gwen and Lancelot's words) This is stupid. This is SO stupid!

Arthur: (ready to steal Merlin's neckerchief, smirking) Well, I'm gonna need all the luck I can ge-

Merlin: (extends a hand with other neckerchief awkwardly, blushing) This... this one is better.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: (ties it quickly around Arthur's arm, avoiding his eyes at all time) There.

Arthur: ... Merlin-

Servant x: (enters) Sire, the crowd is expecting you.

Arthur: Yeah, in a minute, I was- (turns to Merlin)

Merlin: (Already gone)

Arthur: (sighs, but then smiles full of hope) I'm coming.

After a very close competition, Arthur wins the tournament. Though people will talk about "Sir William" participation and how he seemed this close to win The Prince of Camelot. Both Merlin and Gwen cheered for their knights (though Merlin will never admit it). However, Arthur didn't give Merlin back his neckerchief, which the warlock doesn't know if he should take as a good or bad sign. Maybe Arthur didn't even catch whatever he was trying to intend and Merlin thinks it's better like that.

In Arthur's tent. After the tournament.

Merlin: (finishes to put Arthur out of his armor)

Arthur: So?

Merlin: So?

Arthur: (flirtatiously) I want my reward. 😏

Merlin: ¡Oh, right! What is it going to be? Dress fools clothes for a week? Or are you going to make me wear a dress? Please, don't make me wear a dress.

Arthur: Tempting, but no. (gets closer to Merlin) I have something else in mind.

Merlin: What is it then?

Arthur: (just looks at him, still smiling)

Merlin: (giggles) What? Come on. Don't act all mysterious now-

Arthur: (kisses him)

Merlin: (Merlin exe has stopped working) ...

Arthur: (pulls away at the lack of response) Merlin?

Merlin: (blinks) Thank you (leaves running)

Arthur: (chuckles softly) Uhm... You are welcome?

In Lancelot's tent.

Gwen: You did great, even if you lost.

Lancelot: (holding her hand) With you I already feel like a winner.

Gwen: 😍

Lancelot: (hesitantly) Gwen, about... asking your ha-

Merlin: (enters, talking fast) Hi, Lancelot, can I borrow Gwen for a moment? Thank you! (grabs Gwen's wrist and pulls her)

Gwen: Wha-wait! Merlin! (And they both leave)

Lancelot: ...

Somewhere apart from everyone else.

Gwen: What is it?

Merlin: (still quite in shock) Arthur... kissed me.

Gwen: (To the Sky) FINALLY! Thanks to all the Gods! (Hugs him) I'm so happy for you!

Merlin: ...

Gwen: (pulls away, confused) You should be celebrating. Why aren't you celebrating?

Merlin: Is he echanted?

Gwen: What?

Merlin: This seems too far for a joke. He must be echanted. But... why would someone echant him to kiss me?

Gwen: You have to be kidding me! (Holds Merlin by the shoulders) Merlin, it's obvious Arthur has feelings for you! Had them for a very long time! I know it, Lancelot knows it, Leon, Gaius, all the knights and servants. Even the King knows it! (lifts her hands in the air) Everyone knows it!

Merlin: But... that's impossible.

Gwen: He just kissed you!

Merlin: I know!

Gwen: Then what makes you doubt? Was it something he said after he kissed you?

Merlin: Uh...

Gwen: He did say something, right?

Merlin: Well, he asked "Merlin?"

Gwen: And then?

Merlin: I said "thank you".

Gwen: (almost yells) You said "thank You"!? 😱

Merlin: And I ran away.

Gwen: (definitely yells now) YOU RAN AWAY?!! 😡

Merlin: Stop yelling!

Gwen: (takes deeps breaths to compose herself) Sorry, but... why?

Merlin: I don't know! He kissed me out of nowhere and my heart went thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, and my mind (makes sound and gesture of explosion). I wasn't able to react at all and "thank you" was the only thing that came to my mind and then everything was too much so my first instinct was running! So I ran. And now I'm telling you so you can tell me what to do.

Gwen: Oh, you want me to tell you what to do?

Merlin: Yes!

Gwen: TALK TO HIM!

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, nervous) Hi...

Arthur: (turns and smiles) There you are, gone boy. Brought my lunch already?

Merlin: You... kissed me.

Arthur: I did.

Merlin: ...Why?

Arthur: (frowns) I thought it was obvious.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Merlin, I've been courting you for months.

Merlin: What?! When?! 😨

Arthur: When not? I gifted you a flower, new clothes, a horse. I even gave you my mother's sigil.

Merlin: But... that's impossible. You-you like girls.

Arthur: (laughs softly) Have you seen me with any girl?

Merlin: N-no. But even if you-you liked boys that way, you can't have feelings for me. That doesn't make sense. Nothing is making sense! NO! There is no way you-Or maybe it is joke, but this is too cruel. You wouldn't-Or am I dreaming? That must be it, I'm dreaming-

Arthur: (holds Merlin gently by the shoulders) Merlin. (craddles his face with a hand) Look at me.

Merlin: (looks at Arthur with watery eyes)

Arthur: You are not dreaming. This is real. My feelings for you (puts Merlin's hand on his chest) Are real. I can't tell you exactly how it started, it's... complicated. (holds his hands lovinly) But when I realised, you were the only thing that kept me going, my purpose, my reason for existing. I think it was always there, but I was so blind! (gives a watery laugh and his eyes water) I wasted so much time... But I won't waste it anymore.

Merlin: I... don't understand-

Arthur: I love you, Merlin. Gods knows why, you are such a pain in the ass sometimes, but I do. You drive me crazy and infuriate me more than anybody else has ever done, but you also make my day better with your rambling, when you laugh or just smile. I love your clumsiness, your bravery, your disrespectful, but loyal self. You are the chaos in person, so full of contradictions, but you are also the calm to my storm, the light to my dark, the half that makes me whole. There's really no words to decribe how much I love you, I could say I love you with all my heart, but it wouldn't be enough. I could say I love you with all my being, but that's still not accuarate. Just know that I rather die than live in a world where you aren't, that there is no line I wouldn't cross for you, that I love you madly, beyond all reason, beyond all the words that could exist. I love you more than I ever have loved and will love anyone. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Merlin: (merlin exe has stopped working again)

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Please, say something.

Merlin: ...Thank you. (lets go of his hands and leaves)

Arthur: (stunned in place, between confused and hurt)... What?

Time skip. In Gwen's house.

Gwen: (yelling) YOU SAID THANK YOU AGAIN?! 😡

Merlin: I panicked!

Gwen: (makes a move to go to Merlin, screaming in rage)

Lancelot: (holds her by the waist)

Gwen: Let go of me! I'm gonna kill him! 😤(struggles)

Tom: (enters) Gwen, you have... (trails off at seeing the scene before him)

Morgana: (enters too) Uhm... What is going on?

Gwen: Arthur confessed his love to Merlin and HE (points at Merlin) just said "thank you" and left!

Morgana: (gets furious too) YOU LITTLE SHIT! 😡 (makes a gesture to go to Merlin too)

Tom: (holds Morgana by the waist) Wooow! What's with all the violence?

Morgana: He's been preparing how to confess to you for MONTHS! YOU ASSHOLE! 😤

Lancelot: Please, my ladys, I'm as upset as you are, but beating Merlin up is not going to solve anything. Calm down, please.

Morgana: (still struggling against Tom) Why would you say such a hurtful thing?! Were you playing with his feelings all this time?!

Merlin: No! I didn't want to hurt him, I didn't even know about his feelings until today!

Morgana: Don't you love him?

Merlin: I do!

Morgana: Then WHY in all hell's did you say "thank you" instead of "I love you too"?!

Merlin: BECAUSE I BURIED THOSE WORDS IN MY HEART FOR YEARS!

Morgana: (Stops struggling and Tom lets go of her)

Gwen: (stops struggling and Lancelot lets go of her)

Merlin: (his eyes watering) I prepared myself to never say it, because he was never supposed to love me back. Because he was going to meet a nice girl someday and fall in love with her and be happy. He was supposed to grow old with her while I just standed by and watched, always by his side. And one day in the far future, when he's on his deathbed or I in mine, I would finally tell him and we both would laugh about how silly my crush was and Arthur would joke saying that he's flattered but I'm not his type. And that would be our last memory together!

Morgana, Gwen and Lancelot: ...

Tom: Wow.. You really visualized all that? (goes to Merlin and pats his shoulder) You have a great imagination kid.

Merlin: (thinking) Is not imagination, in a way I already lived it.

Tom: Well, I have to get back to work. You can stay here all you want if you promise to be civilized, Okay?

Morgana: Of course, Tom. My apologies for my previous behaviour.

Gwen: My too, dad.

Tom: (smiles) It's forgiven. (whispers to Lancelot) Call me if you need me. (leaves)

Lancelot: Merlin, were the words "Thank you" chose randomly to replace the words "I love you" or... you actually felt thankful?

Merlin: (tears rollling down his eyes) It's a miracle he even spears a glance at me. Of course I'm thankful. Why he even loves me, I don't understand.

Gwen: I didn't know you had yourself in such low self esteem. Merlin, you are wonderful person. There's nothing not to love about you.

Merlin: Well, I doubt Arthur still loves me after this.

Morgana: You messed up. Doesn't mean you can't make it right. Go talk to him. Explain to him what you just told us.

Merlin: I can't! Not with the mouth I have, I'll probably end up just saying "thank you" again.

Gwen: What if... you don't actually say it?

Time skip. In Leon's chambers.

Arthur: (lying on Leon's bed, sad) And then he just said "Thank you". What does that even mean?

Leon: (in a chair nearby) Well, if it had been any other person. I would say you were rejected, Sire, but it's Merlin. You can't really tell with him.

Arthur: (sighs) I thought I got the signals right. He gave me his neckerchief willingly today, I thought that was a move! Giving your favor to a knight in a tournament is always a romantic move, isn't it Leon?

Leon: Of course, Sire.

Arthur: Or maybe he just got tired of me stealing his neckerchief constantly and I got it all wrong. (sinks his face in his hands)

Leon: I don't believe so, Sire.

Arthur: Then why did he say "thank you"?! (covers himself with the the covers) He loved me before! Why doesn't he love me here too?!

Leon: Wait, Merlin said he loved you before?

Arthur: No, after. But that after doesn't exist anymore.

Leon: ... Are you drunk, Sire?

Someone knocks the door.

Leon: Who is it?

Merlin: Leon, have you seen Arthur? I need to talk to him.

Leon: (looking at Arthur) Uhm...

Arthur: (composes himself as quickly as he can and gets off the bed) I'm here.

Leon: (opens the door)

Merlin: (enters hesitantly) Hey... I was looking for you.

Arthur: It seemed more that you were running from me.

Merlin: Yeah... Sorry about that.

Uncomfortable silence.

Arthur: Leon, can you leave us alone, please?

Leon: Of course, Sire. (bows and leaves, thinking) Kicked out of my own room. The things I do for these two.

Arthur: I want an answer. I real answer. If you are going to reject me, do it properly, cause if you say "thank you" again, I swear to the gods, merlin, I-

Merlin: (extends a hand with a letter)

Arthur: What is that?

Merlin: My answer. (blushes furiously) I... can't trust my tongue to not mess it up again, so... I wrote it down.

Arthur: (takes the letter in silence)

Merlin: I'll leave you to read it-

Arthur: No, Merlin you are going to stay right there until I finish reading.

Merlin: But-

Arthur: I think it's the least I deserve.

Merlin: (nods, still feeling bad) You're right. Go ahead.

Arthur: (opens the letter and reads)

"Arthur, I'm so sorry for how I reacted and that I hurt you with my words, but you kissing me so suddenly and professing your love for me so deeply, you down-struck-disarm me. I never thought someone like you would ever love someone like me. And I'm not saying this because you are the prince and I a servant. You know I don't care about titles. I'm saying this because you are the bravest, most righteous, and courageous man I have ever known. How could such a man love me? You said you can't tell when you fell in love with me. But me? I don't think there was a moment that a didn't love you. I am so hopelessly in love with you, every part of you, even when you act like a prat or a dollopehead and make me want to punch you in the face. But I resigned myself that I would never have you for so long that you corresponding my feelings, I couldn't believe it was real. I still don't believe it's real. You are promising me the sun, Arthur. How can I believe the sun is now mine? This love confession is not nearly as beautiful as yours, but I want you to know for certain that-”

Merlin: I love you (his eyes watering, but smiling).

Arthur: (looking at Merlin, wonderstruck and grinning more widely than Merlin has ever seen him) Say it again. (gets closer to Merlin)

Merlin: I said it? 😧... Oh, gods I said! 😨 I actually said it. Okay. Good.

Arthur: (gets closer) Merlin-

Merlin: Did you finish reading it? My thoughs are more organized there, I swear!

Arthur: (and closer) Merlin-

Merlin: Please, I don't want to mess it up again-

Arthur: Merlin! (holds his face in his hands, their chest so close they can touch, his grin bright as the stars) Say it again.

Merlin: (his eyes find Arthur's and he smiles) I love you. So, so much it hurts.

Arthur: Thank you.

Merlin and Arthur: (laugh)

Arthur: (kisses him)

Merlin: (kisses back)

Any rational thought, feel of insecurity or nervousness is gone at the feeling of Arthur's mouth moving on his. First tender and sweet, but then the kiss deepens and Arthur's tongue is probing against his lips. Then Merlin's arms are around Arthur's neck and his fingers in his hair, while Arthur holds him closer by the waist. This is better than he ever dare to imagine. It's overwhelming. All too much, all too good to be real. He could feel the so called butterflies in his stomach-

But suddenly, in the instant he opens his eyes, he notices there are butterflies, ACTUAL butterflies, flying around the room.

Merlin: (pulls away from Arthur abruptly, thinking in panic) Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Arthur: (confused) What's the- (notices the butterflies) Wow... Where did they-

Merlin: (shouts) THE WINDOW! (composes himself, blushing) I mean, they probably came... from the window.

Arthur: (realises it was Merlin, but decides to play along) Yeah, probably. How odd. Do butterflies normaly shine like that?

Merlin: (even more red) No, it's a... very weird species.

Arthur: (smirks) Well, where were we? (about to kiss Merlin again)

Merlin: (stops him, putting a hand on his chest) Uhm... Can we... go slow? (thinking) I can't have more butterflies appearing out of nowhere!

Arthur: (remembers why Merlin is called "The Unicorn Catcher" and facepalms himself mentally) Right, of course. Forgive me, I shouldn't have lost control like that. But I wanted this for so long-Not that I only thought about doing this especifically. I want everything with you! Wait, that sounded bad. What I meant to say is that I don't only wish to do, uhm, physical things with you. I want to court you properly, I've already been doing it. I do respect you-

Merlin: (chuckles)

Arthur: What's so funny?

Merlin: Nothing, it's good to know I'm not the only one who is a mess. (gives a long sigh) Gods, I still can't believe any of this is real!

Arthur: (smiles and holds his hands tenderly) Believe it. I'll tell you all the times I have to until you do. I love you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles) And I love you.

Arthur and Merlin: (loss each other again in each other's eyes and lean to kiss)

Suddenly the door opens and Morgana, Gwen, Leon and Lancelot fall to the floor like if they had been leaning on the door and lost support.

Arthur and Merlin: ...

Leon, Lancelot, Gwen and Morgana: (stand up quickly)

Arthur: Uhm...What are you doing here? 🤨

Leon: I was about to get something from my room.

Lancelot: I was looking for Leon.

Gwen: I was accompanying him.

Morgana: I was... passing by.

An uncomfortable silence.

Leon: (looks around the room) Why are there butterflies in my room?

Arthur and Merlin: (shout) THE WINDOW!

...

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @tkmaras , @rubinaitoart

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day 3: Pegging

Cassian x Reader || WC: 2.3k

You slam down your empty shot glass on the kitchen counter at the same time Cassian does. 

He throws his head back, howling with laughter. “I’m surprised you’re actually keeping up sweetheart,” he admits between laughs. 

Titling your head at him. “Why?” 

He gestures to the 10 empty shot glasses in front of both of you. “I didn’t think your brother let you drink.” 

“Tamlin didn't let me do a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do them.” Cassian grins at your words—at you. 

“He trained you to fight though.” Not a question but you nodded your head. 

“He did. I think it was only because I can shapeshift too, so it made sense to. . . I guess.”

He looks at you incredulously, “you can shapeshift?”

“Yeah.”

“Liar.”

You laugh, “why would I lie?”

“So, you can shapeshift. . . fully?” 

“Yeah.”

He nods at you, “do it.”

You blink at him. “I’m not shapeshifting into a wolf right here, in the kitchen.” 

“Fine.” he grumbles. “What about just. . .  parts of your body?” he asks with an arched brow. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. 

His brows furrow, “sooo, let’s say—hypothetically—instead of a cunt you could have a cock?”

You chuckle at his question. “Yes, hypothetically.”

He crosses his arms and you can’t help but to stare at them. Corded in muscles and thick veins. “Prove it.” His voice brings you back and when you look at him, he’s smirking at you.

“I don’t have to prove anything.” You smirk back.

“Because you can’t.” 

You cross your arms, not missing the way his eyes fall to your tits, maybe or maybe not knowing that crossing your arms would push them up. “Let’s make a bet.” 

“What kind of bet?” He asks hesitantly and you grin. 

“If I prove to you, that I can turn my”—your do air quotes with your fingers—“cunt into a cock. Then I get to fuck you.”

His eyes widen and your grin turns feral. 

“H-h-how?” he sputters. 

You stick your right hand out for him to shake. “Bet or no bet?” 

“Mother save me,” he mumbles under his breath and then he’s shaking your hand. 

As soon as your hands touched, you shapeshifted. You’ve done it so much that now you could change your form with half a thought. 

Cassian was about to let go, when you grabbed his wrist bringing it towards your body, “What are you doing?”

“Winning.” 

His eyes narrow and he blinks at you confused, but then a moment later he understands at the same time that you place his hand over your clothed cunt—cock now. He unconsciously takes a step closer and grips it. Both of you sucking in a sharp breath.

Cassian’s eyes meet yours, “Sweetheart, I don’t think it’ll fit.” 

“Trust me, it’ll fit.” 

His eyes flick back down to watch his hand, gripping you through your pants. You’re already hard just with him touching you. “Have you. . . have you ever fucked someone? This way?” 

You nod, “yeah. A few times.”

His head snaps back up, hazel eyes devoid of all warmth. “Who? When?”

You exhale a deep breath. Holding his gaze, “Lucien. It was centuries ago,” you quickly add.

All he does is nod his head, and look back down at his hand. 

“We don’t have t—“

He cuts you off, “I know. . . but I want to.” 

You give your mate a reassuring smile, then take his hand, leading him to your bedroom in the House of Wind. You moved in after you left the Spring Court with Feyre, almost seven months ago, and the mating bond snapped between Cassian and you soon after. 

“I’m never making a drunk bet with you again,” Cassian called from inside the en-suite bathroom, “ever.”

You can’t help but chuckle as you continue to lounge lazily across the settee that’s adjacent to the door. “Cass, you shouldn’t make a bet with me, period. You always lose,” you tease and finish tying the red ribbon into a bow around the base of your cock. 

“No, I don’t!” You can practically see his scowl, “I win sometimes,” he argues. 

You’re full on laughing now. “No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I— quit laughing!” 

Shaking your head, “hey cass?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

You clear your throat. “Cassian?”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft. Nervous. 

“We don’t have to do this. It’s all right—“ 

The sound of the door opening cuts you off mid sentence. The illyrian male standing in the doorway cuts you off mid sentence. Your eyes take him in hungrily. From his handsome face to his broad shoulders. To his muscular arms and his cut abs. To his thick hard cock and his thick muscular thighs. 

And finally to the black lace knee high stockings glittering with crystals. Sparkling like the night sky.

All he has on is the stockings and all you have on is the red bow tied to the base of your cock. 

Your gaze lingers on the stockings for a couple seconds before settling on his face again. You see his eyes trailing over your body, lingering on your bow wrapped cock, and he licks his lips making a soft moan slip through your lips. 

His eyes flick back up to your face and you nod towards the bed. “Kneel.”

Cassian sucks in a shaky breath and then swallows hard. His throat bobbing. Silently, he makes his way towards the bed and kneels on the floor, at the foot of the bed. 

You sit up from where you were lying on the settee, noticing the tension in his body. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart,” you tell him using the nickname he uses for you. He does and he visibly relaxes, slightly. “Again,” you repeat. “One more time,” he does, all the tension finally leaving his body. 

You rise from the settee making your way towards him. 

Standing right in front of him, brushing his hair away from his face, “Good boy,” you murmur. Earning a soft smile from him and you can’t help but to return it. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You question one last time, wanting to make sure he’s comfortable. He nods his head. “I need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” his voice is quiet but confident. “I’m sure.”

“Good.” You run both of your hands through his hair, gripping it at the base, “open your mouth and place your hands on your thighs.” He does as you command. Keeping eye contact as your cock is engulfed in the wet heat of his mouth.

He struggles, trying to accommodate your size. Your hand comes up to caress his face, “Relax your jaw. Breathe from your nose. Then let me in.” Cassian closes his eyes and then follows your instructions—taking you in deeper. 

Still only taking you almost half of your length. 

A sinful groan leaves your lips when he swirls his tongue around the sensitive head, then dips his tongue into the slit. He moans at the taste of precum on his tongue, the vibrations of it making your cock twitch as you buck into his mouth. 

His cheeks hollow as he tries to take you in deeper, but you still your movements, “Can I fuck your mouth, sweetheart? I’m not going to be gentle.”

Cassian nods eagerly, and your hands grip the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you start fucking his mouth mercilessly. You feel the head of your cock hitting the back of his throat making him gag and his eyes water. Saliva runs down his chin. You smile down at him in response, “good boy.” 

You throw your head back in pleasure, letting out breathy moans as you continue pumping roughly into his warm mouth. 

Cassian whimpers around your cock, and you look down, seeing him touch himself. His precum glistens on his tip and drips onto his fingers as he strokes his thick, hard length. 

Fisting his hair to the point of pain and thrusting into his mouth so that he’s swallowing all of you. His nose is pressed against your lower abdomen. His hazel eyes boring into yours as he coughs and sputters around you, gagging, but you don’t let up. Tears roll down his cheeks. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself did I?” you snap.

His fingers dig into your hips. He coughs again, shedding more tears. 

“Did I?” 

He shakes his head ‘no’ as best he can, and you release him, a string of spit stretching between his slick swollen lips and your hard length. Saliva runs down his chin as he desperately sucks in lungfuls of air between coughs, each breath a ragged gasp. 

Cassian’s eyes are still on you—pupils dilated—still gleaming. You grin at him, jerking your chin at your bed, “Bend over at the foot of the bed.” 

He takes in another breath, rises, then bends over at the foot of the bed like you asked. You step up behind him, slapping his ass and then gripping it, making him whimper. “Please,” he begs. 

“Please what, sweetheart?” You taunt. 

He whines, “please, fuck me. I-I need you.”

You press your length against him and he pushes back, grinding on you. “Then be a good boy and arch your back, I need to prep you.” 

He spreads his legs out a little more, arching his back, baring himself to you and you slap his ass again. Leaving a red handprint on his skin. 

Then you spit on his ass and spread it around his hole. You spit again this time on your fingers making sure they’re coated then slowly push your forefinger in, and he takes in a sharp breath, you work it in and out of him slowly. “Let me know when you’re ready for another one.”

You keep working him for a couple minutes watching him—his reactions. Then he nods his head and you add another finger in slowly. He lets out a gasp this time, but starts to push back, fucking your fingers. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck my fingers,” you coo. 

His cock twitches between his legs. “Touch yourself, Cass.” Once he starts stroking himself, you add a third finger. 

“F-f-fuuuck,” he rasps out. 

You continue fucking his ass with your fingers, matching his pace as he strokes himself. His legs start to shake and you see his balls tighten. 

“I’m gonna cum!” His voice is a breathy whimper. 

You angle your cock right under his, “Cum on my cock, sweetheart.” 

He lets out a low, raspy groan, clenching around your fingers, spilling himself on your cock. His whole body shaking as his cock pulses, painting you in his release. 

When he lets go of himself, you pull your fingers out and rub his cum all over your cock—lubing yourself up. 

You place a few kisses on his back then position yourself.  

Your left hand grips his hip, and your right hand guides your hardened length into him, and you slowly push in. Cassian lets out a strangled scream as you bury yourself in, inch by inch until you’re buried to the hilt. “Fuck Cass. You’re so fucking tight,” you grit out through clenched teeth. 

“You’re so fucking big!” He whimpers. 

You let him adjust to your size, then slowly start rolling your hips, “ Fuuuck,” you moan softly. 

“Faster. Harder, please!” Cassian begs. His voice is a desperate plea.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” You dig your fingers into his hips and fuck his ass with abandon. Titling back slightly, making sure to get in as deep as you can. 

“Oh, my— f-fuck!” He screams out as you pound into him impossibly faster. He fists himself again, matching your speed, all the little noises he’s making only spur you on. 

You feel him start to clench around you again, then he starts to pant, and not even a minute later he’s cumming again. 

You pull out of him and he whines, slapping his ass again, “shut the fuck up and flip over,” you order. 

He does as he’s told and flips over. His chest is heaving slightly, his face is flushed, his shoulder length hair is messy and his cheeks are streaked with tears. 

“Lift your legs up,” you demand. He does shakily and you run your nails against the back of his thighs, and tug at the lace bands of his black stockings, “Gods, these are going to be the death of me,” you groan. 

He mumbles incoherently, in response making you chuckle as you throw his legs over your shoulder while simultaneously sinking into him again in one quick thrust. Cassian lets out a soundless scream and you let out a content sigh as your cock disappears back into his body. 

You lock your arms around his legs and then start fucking him again in missionary. Your hips snapping against his ass and backs of his thick thighs as you set a punishing rhythm. 

Cassian writhes underneath you, fisting your sheets, your cock twitching at the sight of him coming undone.

Gripping his legs tighter, when you start to feel pressure building in your spine, “fuck,” you grit out. Letting out shaky breaths as your hips start to jerk. 

Cassian’s cock starts to twitch, the thick vein on the underside pulsing as it starts to jerk and bob against his stomach. His back arches and then he’s coming on his stomach, it's the final push you need to fall over the edge, with one final thrust you empty yourself inside of him. 

Hips jerking as he spasms and contracts around you, milking every last drop of your release. You collapse on top of him, dissolving into pleasure and his arms unconsciously wrap around you. 

You're a shaking, panting mess on top of him as bolts of electricity hit your spine. A breathy string of curses slipping past your lips. Heart pounding, hot jets of cum filling him as your hips stutter .

After a couple minutes you shapeshift back to your base form making your cum slowly seep out of him.

****

A/N: i feel like this one is either a hit or miss but i LOVE it and thank you bestie @thelov3lybookworm for giving me the courage to post it 💕

****

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[eroguron0nsense]

Garp Rant #11543

Because I'm something of a Certified Garp Hater/extremely obsessed with this man, and because Tumblr people seem to like my Garp takes and/or find them extremely pain-inducing, here's another one for funsies! Again, Garp is an incredibly written character and I massively enjoy his moral failings and human shortcomings, hence why I won't shut up about how much he sucks. So we all remember Garp crying in front of Ace during his imprisonment and awaiting his execution, lamenting the fact that his son and grandson could have maybe avoided this horrible horrible fate that awaits them at Marineford if they'd just become good marines like he'd tried to press them into. Every time he says it, he sounds more desperate, sadder, and angrier, like he's experiencing the stages of grief and going through denial, anger bargaining all at once, lashing out at his grandkids for supposedly causing him grief by defying his wishes, or maybe praying or wishing for a world where they could have followed in his footsteps and lived happily ever after. And when Ace hears that again at Impel Down, he says this:

Here's the thing though: Ace is unequivocally correct Garp should, by all rights, know this. He lived through the fallout of Roger's execution. He knew long before that exactly what would happen to Roger's loved ones and anyone the government could get their hands on who'd ever associated with him. Even before they started committing femicides/infanticides in Baterilla trying to end Roger's bloodline, he knew that the Marines were going to target completely innocent people in the name of purging the bloodline and cementing their "victory" over the greatest threat they'd ever faced. He specifically had to smuggle Rouge out of there so she could give birth to Ace, and all the while dozens of families were being brutalized by his peers and having their lives torn apart. That was the cost the Marines were willing to incur to kill a hypothetical infant, and years later, when that very same child is set to be executed, Sengoku goes on a remorseless public tirade about the necessity of killing babies and the horrible trickery and audacity Rouge displayed by dying so that they wouldn't kill her baby too.

Garp knows every single piece of this information in painful, excruciating detail. He's so horrified by it he feels the need to fulfill this wish of Roger's because he knows blameless people will die. He has Ace raised in secret to protect him from Marines who are figuratively and literally out for his blood. And yet, throughout this boy's childhood, he clings to the notion that maybe, just maybe, the people he knows regularly commit atrocities, who have carried out at least 3 genocides that we know of in Garp's lifetime, who were willing to commit mass infanticide for a woman and child they hadn't verified the existence or identity of at the time, would have accepted him within their ranks and turned a blind eye to that information when it eventually, inevitably surfaced. That Ace can find salvation from the people who stole every loved one he ever had before he was even born, who slaughtered his mother's community and pushed her to her death, and were slavering at the opportunity to kill her. That even though Ace was born in direct opposition to them, has had a target trained on him before he was born, these people who tried so goddamn hard to kill him would surely welcome his presence and not murder him the second they found out if he could just be a compliant model soldier and make himself useful. It's hammered home pretty effectively–especially in the manga– and One Piece has never been known to be subtle in its messaging, but I swear to God I see so many people echoing the notion that Garp's attempts to force his grandchildren into serving the Evil Empire was done because he knew was their only shot at safety from the WG, and I fucking despise this take. Ace saying that he could never be a marine here in Impel Down isn't some young man's rationalization for his (beyond valid) desire not to subscribe to the preset path Garp laid out for him; it's literally the only logical conclusion if you know literally anything about the circumstances of his birth and upbringing, and Garp only thinks that the leopards wouldn't eat Ace's face because he's fucking delusional This in and of itself is extremely telling of how horribly warped Garp's perception of the Navy is, and how deeply he's willing to buy into the Marines and their warped propaganda no matter how many glaring examples he sees throughout his life that counter his worldview, but let's not forget that this applies to Luffy too. This is slightly hairier, in that if Luffy was a) the sort of person who could willingly accept a career in the marines and b) managed to cling really, really tightly to his grandfather's coattails and legacy, there might have been a very, infinitesimally small chance that he could have joined the Navy. The higher ups know that Dragon is Garp's son and therefore Luffy is Dragon's by logical inference, but I could see some AU where Luffy is a fundamentally different person and manages to build himself up in the Navy if not for two things I think warrant examination. It's pretty evident, and Dragon explicitly confirms, that Luffy being known as his son would have put him in incredible danger, only feeling comfortable with acknowledging it and the possibility of actually reuniting with his child after Luffy was both publicly recognized due to factors beyond his control, and proved that he was more than capable of holding his own. But I want to draw attention to this one otherwise pretty silly little gag moment between Garp and Sengoku when they learn that Luffy's broken into Impel Down, and present a theory that's kind of a reach but also not really

Now the phrasing here kind of interests me, in that it ties back to earlier demonstrated patterns that the Navy uses repeatedly in collective punishment for the families and loved ones of their primary targets. Rouge and Ace barely escaped the mass murders intended for them because of their connection, but Tom was also originally sentenced to death for having had a connection to Roger, and ultimately chose that as the offence he wanted to be sentenced for at Enies Lobby. Law, as a child survivor of Flevance, has multiple hospitals try and turn him in to the World Government to be killed when Cora tries to find someone to treat him because their policy is to pull out the roots and salt the earth whenever they deem a person or population politically inconvenient. Robin's flashback shows us Akainu blowing up a refugee boat on the off chance that one of those people that they were planning to evacuate might have gotten past their initial screening for archaeologists/poneglyph readers. At Marineford, Akainu specifically targets Luffy not because of his prior offences or even his attempt to rescue Ace, but because he's Dragon's son and his and Roger's bloodlines need to be eradicated. This is not an institution that is in any way reluctant to destroy anyone tangentially affiliated to a designated enemy, and Luffy being the son of the worst criminal in history seems to put him right in line with all of those other cases. In light of this, and Garp's massive blind spots and wishful thinking regarding his peers and employers, it's not that much of a stretch to assume that the only reason Garp's exempt from being targeted like Dragon is because of his popularity/symbolic importance/utility, and that Luffy likely wouldn't have been safe even if he weren't a pirate. Garp's circle of confidantes/friends in high places is powerful, but clearly there are factions (Akainu, Ryokugyu etc) that would be substantially less willing and who are given preferential treatment by the Elders and Celestial Dragons. There might be something to read into based on the fact that Garp is the only known person from a D bloodline who's achieved massive success in service to the World Government and not defected from the Navy after realizing its true nature (props to Saul), and therefore he might project the fact that he's been rewarded by the system despite being a "sworn enemy of the Gods" onto his family, but that still doesn't account for the massive, delusional arrogance he displays in insisting that, despite everything–especially, especially the murders committed in pursuit of Ace, that robbed him of his birth mother and community–the Navy is the best and safest place for either of those boys. TLDR Garp not wanting his grandsons to have a bounties on their heads is one thing, but it says a lot that in spite of everything he knows, he's willing/determined to put Ace and Luffy in an environment that's extremely dangerous for them –and in Ace's case 100%, unquestionably fatal– because he's so convinced that compliance and the platonic ideals of "justice" and military service/hard work being rewarded by the system could supersede all of that.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

So because apparently both parties in my country oppose trans healthcare to some extent I want to make it very clear to cis people what healthcare they're opposing.

There's a lot of fearmongering about children undergoing medical transition. So I'm gonna walk you through what might happen to a child who is transgender and wants to go the full medical route. Let's say our hypothetical transgender child, I'll make him a him because I'm a him and I'll call him Rat because he named himself when he was 6.

So Rat would probably, unless he experienced precocious puberty, go on hormone blockers at age 9 or 10, a year or two before he would start experiencing puberty just to make sure he doesn't experience any female puberty symptoms. Then at about 13 or 14 he would have an appointment with his doctor and they would decide that he has been sure that he was a boy for many years now and he's at an appropriate age to start puberty, at which point he would be taken off the hormone blockers and put onto a dosage of testosterone that is typically of what his perisex camab peers produce naturally. Because he never produced estrogen he would not have grown breasts and not need top surgery. He would develop exactly how his camab peers develop.

Now I want to put an interlude here that literally all of this is reversible. At any point Rat could change his name back and go off the testosterone jabs and his ovaries would start functioning again and they would produce the appropriate estrogen to give him breasts and hips. He could take the same vocal training classes that trans women take, he could get laser hair removal on the places where appropriate, and it would be as if he'd never been on the hormones at all.

But he doesn't want to do that. He wants a penis so let's move onto that.

As far as surgery goes, he would not be able to have either metoidioplasty or phalloplasty until he was on hormones long enough to experience the necessary bottom growth to occur, which takes a couple of years. (At least that was what I was told in 2016 please lmk if standards have changed since then). So at this point we're already about 16 years old before surgery even comes up as an option at the doctor's office. And Rat, if he is particularly gung ho about getting a penis and his parents can afford it/insurance will pay for it, probably gets put on a waiting list for a consultation with a specialist in genital reconstruction. Let's say at that consult which probably takes a few months minimum to get into, he opts for the most similar to perisex male genitalia: phalloplasty with testicular implants. Right there we're looking at at least three different surgeries and not all of them are going to happen at the same time. He's 17 before he's ever even on the operation table and he's been consistently identified as male since elementary school. This is the fastest possible bottom surgery route I'm laying out for you here and he still not slanging it until senior prom when he'll give it an ill advised test run in the back of his parents Subaru with Kelly from the anime club. All of that is assuming there's a doctor who will do it for him that can fit him in. Some people wait years for surgery.

Now some people get top surgery younger, but guess what, breast implants both exist and can be removed. If a 14 year old gets a double mastectomy and regrets it when they're 23 they can get implants. If a 16 year old gets breast implants and regrets it when they're 20 they can get those taken out. Top surgery is not complicated and I've heard from guys who truely would not have made it if they hadn't gotten theirs done.

I know this won't convince anyone who opposes trans healthcare but I hope it at least explains transition to cis allies who support trans people getting healthcare but still might think minors not being allowed to have surgery is a moderate position. I invite any trans person to add onto this with a MTF perspective or how their surgeries helped them.

[yuragiku]

i don’t even know if i can continue writing that seunghan fic anymore let alone interact w rii7e content any further. yes, riize is still seven. i know groups shuffle members and people come and go, but this was supposed to be sungtaro’s permanent home after years of uncertainty once nct2021 promotions ended. this was supposed to be srb22’s permanent home after sm imploded and had rapidly changed their plans. this was supposed to be the home of ALL SEVEN of them, who had to PROVE to sm that they wanted to debut TOGETHER after wontaro handpicked the boys to perform their choreography of ‘joy’ together. how do people have the guts and sanity to BLAME seunghan for all of riize’s mishaps when, if you looked in the mirror and told yourself that you should’ve never dated anyone, you would clock yourself at how ridiculous you sound.

“the others worked hard as well.” don’t give me that. it’s not selfish to boycott a group based on unfair treatment from the so-called fans. isn’t it the ot6 that are making it hard for riize to promote under this circumstance? erasing someone that’s still a member by contract when all it took was acceptance that he, like many of us, lived even just a little bit despite the rigorous nature of selling your young soul to a ruthless industry? isn’t it the people who he called his friends that didn’t want him to succeed to blame, not the boys who worked hard TOGETHER to debut TOGETHER to chase their dreams? sungchan literally suggested “riize” as a name to management when all seven of them were all training and idly waiting to leave the dungeon…

he was living a normal life as a TEENAGE BOY before debut, doing TEENAGE BOY things that everyone does. you can’t sit here and tell me to accept this and move on when the abysmal amount of hate he got for BEING A TEENAGE BOY surpasses t*eil’s, who got pulled out of the group by management themselves because of criminal-level allegations. people are delusional and need to touch grass.

tldr i am angry and you should be too. i will think about the future of this blog but i am taking a break again unfortunately. i was so excited to finish writing both nabokov and somethin’ stupid (official title for the seunghan fic i was talking about) in the hopes that i get to see all seven again, but i’m not too sure anymore. there is a bitter taste in my mouth that i can’t get seem to get out since he posted his final letter on weverse.

i lied maybe that seunghan fic is coming out first

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - II

Summary: Five years after your last visit to Tir Asleen, you finally get to see Kit again. Although you promised your mother you wouldn’t let Kit influence you, her fiery personality and strong will draw you in, and open your eyes to a whole new world of excitement and adventure.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: fluff, reader’s subtle mommy issues, rebellious kit, weapons, sword fighting, stumbling upon mature illustrations, childlike innocence, implied parent death, one bed, sneaking out

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: this chapter does contain adolescents stumbling upon some ‘sensual’ illustrations in library books. It is purely meant to be part of a ‘coming of age,’ and I even had others proofread it to make sure it comes off that way. Anyways, here’s the second chapter of Forbidden Crown! :)

Almost immediately upon returning to Azarenth, you began pressing your parents about revisiting Tir Asleen.

Your inquiries began innocently. “Mommy, can we go and see the twins today?”

Each time, she’d shake her head. “Not today, sweetheart. Our responsibilities leave no time for such an endeavor.”

Then, you resorted to excuses. “Father, we’ve been so busy, we could really use a holiday. How about a trip to Tir Asleen?”

He’d chortle at the suggestion. “Princess, if we were to go on holiday, it certainly would not be to a place such as Tir Asleen!”

Every day, you would pose similar questions, and as time went on, your parents' refusals became curt, tinged with vexation. Eventually, you ceased questioning altogether, not wanting to further irritate them.

Despite your silence, your mind occupied itself with thoughts of Kit. You longed to keep in contact with her, but your parents thought you weren’t old enough to have your own carrier pigeon. In an attempt to keep her close, you even secretly wore her breeches beneath your dresses until they no longer fit, then kept them stashed in the bottom of your storage chest, hidden from your parents or any prying maids.

Every day, you wondered how she was doing, and every day, you wondered if she thought of you as well.

It wasn’t until just before the summer of your tenth year that you thought you would ever see Kit again. On a golden May afternoon, you heard your mothers voice calling you in from playing outside with some children from the nearby village. Disgruntled, you bid your friends farewell and trudged back in through the castle doors.

Upon entering, you immediately saw your parents sitting in the Great Hall, hands folded on the table in front of them. You gulped; this room was rarely ever used, with the exception of large gatherings or very important meetings. Hypothetical scenarios swarmed your mind as you desperately tried to figure out what horrible thing you had done to warrant a meeting in the Great Hall.

Walking in, you took a seat across from your parents, folding your hands in your lap and refusing eye contact.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you in here,” your mother began, never one to beat around the bush.

You nodded slowly, still declining to meet her gaze. Your father cleared his throat, taking over the conversation.

“Princess,” he began. “As you’re well aware, you are a child of nobility. It is very important to us that you grow up receiving the best education and training possible, and that includes learning crucial life skills such as independence and adaptability.”

Furrowing your brow, you nodded, confused. You didn’t have a clue where this conversation was going and frankly wished your parents would just get to the point so you could go back outside.

Almost as if she could read your mind, your mother jumped in. “Your father and I have been exchanging letters with the Queen of Tir Asleen. You remember Sorsha and her twins, don’t you?”

Your ears perked up at this, the mere mention of your long-lost friends sending a wave of sweet nostalgia to wash over you. “Of course! I loved playing with Kit.”

“And Airk,” your mother interrupted, hardening her gaze.

Forgetting that your mother wasn’t necessarily a fan of the Princess of Tir Asleen, you were quick to agree. “Yes, Airk too, surely.”

“After some back and forth,” your mother took a deep breath before delivering the news. “Queen Sorsha has agreed to foster you temporarily. You will be staying in Tir Asleen with her and her children for the summer months.”

Just for a brief moment, you swore your heart stopped beating before a burst of warmth exploded in your chest. Three whole months spent with Kit? Staying in the Tir Asleen castle? Away from your parents? The very thought made you tingle with excitement.

“This is not a holiday,” your mother interrupted your daydream as if she could see your thoughts. “You will be studying under an array of tutors and governesses, receiving a rigorous education and learning proper court etiquette. I hope you don’t think you’re going to spend the entire summer rolling around in mud with that filthy girl.”

Your mother’s slander against Kit made your blood boil underneath your skin, evaporating to your face and turning your cheeks a dark crimson. Every cell in your body wanted to stand up and scream at your mother before shouting Kit’s praises. Instead, you decided to seethe quietly, fearing that speaking up could jeopardize the trip.

As the conversation came to a close and you got up to leave, your mother called your name just before you made it out the door. You took a deep breath, forcing a grin as you turned to face her.

“Yes, mother?” Your voice came out strained and tense.

Her expression turned serious as her jaw stilled, mouth tight in a straight line. She peered at you through her brow, not breaking her gaze for one moment.

“Don’t let that Kit girl influence you. I mean it.”

The following fortnight seemed to drag as you waited impatiently for June to arrive. Each day seemed to tick by slower than the last, until you managed to develop an irrational hatred for the month of May.

When the morning of your departure finally arrived, a servant entered your bedchamber to fetch your storage chest, only to find the room empty and the chest missing. After informing the castle and a brief moment of panic, one of the guards found you already in the carriage, having dragged your storage chest by yourself all the way outside at the first sign of daybreak.

“May we leave now?” You asked, ever impatient.

The castle staff shared a hearty chuckle over your eagerness when your parents stepped outside, dismissing the crew before bidding their final farewells.

“Luck be with you in Tir Asleen, Princess,” your father began, bearing his familiar kind smile. “You’re not to worry about traveling alone, I hired the best coachman in all of Azarenth to ensure your safety.”

Returning your fathers warm grin, you leaned out the carriage window to wrap your arms around his neck. Your mother, nowhere near as affectionate as her husband, simply gave you a tight smile and a curt nod.

“Be on your best behavior for Sorsha, please.”

The day-long journey to Tir Asleen was long and winding, the wheels against cobblestone bricks gently rocking the carriage. Traveling alone for the first time had you a tad nervous, but the friendly coachman made sure to keep you company.

Soon, as the late afternoon sun began its descent, the castle of Tir Asleen gradually came into view. Nostalgic memories rushed through your mind as the stone battlements seemed to pierce the clouds. You leaned your head out the carriage window, feeling the warm wind on your face and breathing in the familiar smell of dew.

The carriage came to a halt at the castle entrance, the sudden stillness of the car making you wonder how long your hands had been shaking. Peering out the carriage window, you saw Airk near the front, sword sparring with another boy around his age.

Disappointment shadowed your face at the absence of Kit, but you tried to hide it. As you waited for the coachman to gather your things, you busied yourself watching Airk spar. He was quite the swordsman, staying quick on his feet, and countering each attack with focus clouding his uncovered face.

Despite Airk’s impressive skill, his opponent still seemed to have the upper hand. You couldn’t quite make out who he was due to a faceplate covering his features, but his technique was precise, perfected, almost as if he’d had to work twice as hard as Airk to get where he was.

Suddenly, Airk momentarily lost his footing on a slippery rock, allowing his mysterious opponent to take advantage and deliver one final strike. Airk tumbled to the ground, the anonymous swordsman moving to stand over him as he conceded defeat.

You couldn’t help but erupt into applause, after all, duels rarely happened in your kingdom. Startled, Airk and his friend turned towards you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’d arrived. You were about to approach Airk and exchange pleasant greetings when his masked adversary suddenly removed his faceplate, shaking out his hair and revealing his identity.

Shock hung from your features. This mysterious man wasn’t mysterious at all! Or a man! It was Kit!

“Kit!” You exclaimed, your voice coming out as an involuntary squeal.

She called your name back and ran to you, enveloping you in a hug. You buried your face into the crook of her neck, damp with sweat from the humidity of the faceplate.

“Your hair got so long!” You commented after pulling away.

It was true. Kits original short chop now flowed in waves down to her mid-torso, making her look oddly feminine even in trousers.

“I hate it,” Kit groaned, pinching a lock of her hair and frowning down at it. “It gets so hot, and I hate having to put it up.”

As she fidgeted with her hair, your gaze traveled down to her wrist, noticing a sandstone silk strand peeking out of her sleeve. Curious, you took her hand and pushed her sleeve up, revealing the ribbon she had stolen from you all those years ago.

“My ribbon!” You exclaimed, surprised and genuinely touched. “You still wear it?”

“Every day,” Kit answered truthfully. “It reminds me of you.”

You turned her wrist over in your hand, admiring the ribbon. The previously bright pink silk had faded into a blush beige, bleached from sun exposure. Once perky bunny-ear loops now drooped down her wrist, tickling the bottom of her palm. It was almost unrecognizable, this old ribbon that time had not been kind to, and the fact that Kit had worn it all these years warmed a special place in your heart.

Airk cleared his throat, startling you slightly as you had forgotten he was there. You offered him an apologetic smile, letting go of Kit’s wrist to shake his hand.

“Forgive me,” you chuckled nervously. “It’s good to see you again as well, Airk.”

The rest of the evening was spent catching up; the three of you laid on patches of grass and recounted events from the last five years until a maid rang the dinner bell. Even at dinner, all of you prattled incessantly. Airk eventually found he’d said enough and focused on his meal, but you and Kit talked through mouthfuls of food, much to Sorsha’s chagrin.

“You can eat or you can speak, but it’s terribly impolite to combine the two,” she scolded.

After the third or fourth lecture, you noticed how they would only come from Sorsha. A brief glance around the table confirmed your suspicions: Madmartigan was absent.

“Where’s your dad?” You whispered to Kit, worried that asking Sorsha directly would upset her.

Kit, however, perked up at your question, eyes sparkling at the mention of her role model. “He’s on a quest! He’s going to fight inside a worm!”

“He’s trying to destroy the Wyrm from the inside, Kit.” Airk corrected.

Kit brushed off her brother, ignoring his comment and continuing. “He’s been fighting the Wyrm for some time now. He’s so busy, but he always has a letter delivered to us on the first of every month!”

She sprang up from her chair, dashing to fetch the most recent letter before being stopped by Sorsha. “Kit, how many times have I said not to leave the table without being excused?”

Kit spun around with a dramatically curtsy and mimed pulling on an invisible skirt. “Mother, may I please be excused from this fine supper? Oh mummy, please may I?”

You stifled a giggle at her theatrics. Sorsha sighed, dismissing her with the wave of her hand. Kit sped out of the room, returning seconds later with a piece of paper and thrusting it into Sorsha’s hands.

“This one arrived today.” Kit explained, leaning over her mother’s shoulder.

Despite Sorsha’s annoyance with her daughter, she couldn’t help but smile as she gingerly pinched the corners of her husband's letter.

“My dear family,” she began reading as Airk rushed over, joining Kit in reading over their mother’s shoulder. “As I venture forth on this perilous mission, know that my thoughts are never far from all of you. My journey to confront the Wyrm may be ripe with danger, but carrying the strength of our family has gotten me through some challenging moments.”

“To my daughter, Kit,” Kit perked up at the mention of her name, leaning farther into the letter as Sorsha continued to read. “Your unyielding spirit and fearlessness are sure to serve you well in all that you do. Always remember to keep your sword sharp and your wits sharper.”

“To Airk,” it was Airk’s turn to lean into the letter. “My son, every day you continue to amaze me. I look forward to returning and watching you grow into the man I know you’re destined to be.”

“And to my lovely wife,” Sorsha’s voice cracked as she read. “Not a day goes by where I don’t picture your face. You are the light that leads me through the darkest tunnels.”

Sorsha sniffed, attempting to discreetly wipe away a tear before reading the last section. “I promise to return one day, victorious and bearing plenty of stories. Until then, I hope you’ll take comfort in these letters. All my love, Madmartigan.”

Kit looked up from the letter, eyes shining with undeterrable admiration. “When I grow up, I want to be just like him.”

Later that night, as you readied yourself for slumber in one of the castle's many guest rooms, a knock interrupted your solitude. You granted permission to enter, fixing your posture and bracing yourself to be greeted by Sorsha. However, your tension eased when the door cracked and Kit’s face poked through.

“I need your help with something,” she whispered, cautious not to disturb any sleeping residents.

“Why? What happened?” You inquired.

Without another word, Kit seized your hand and led you away. You protested at first, feeling naked in your thin nightgown outside the walls of your bedchamber, but Kit's hand wrapped around yours felt soothing, like a warm glove on a cold day, and you knew that no matter where you went, you would be safe as long as Kit was there.

She led you to the end of the hall, down a flight of stairs, and through the doors of the basement, only letting go of your hand to ignite a taper candle and shed some light into the dark room. Weapons of all shapes and sizes mounted the walls, their silver blades illuminating in the candle light. Various types of armor decorated the corners, including the faceplate Kit had worn earlier in the day.

“Is this…”

“The armory.” Kit answered your unspoken question.

You nodded, marveling at the room. Azarenth had an armory in their castle too, but it was heavily guarded, and strictly off limits to you.

Kit plucked a sword from the wall and laid it flat against her palms, presenting it to you. “I need you to cut my hair.”

“What?” You searched Kit’s face for any sign of humor, but found none as she stood completely serious.

“I need you to cut my hair,” she repeated. “I can’t reach back there, and Airk won’t do it because he’s afraid of getting in trouble.”

“What if I get in trouble?” You asked, still in disbelief at her request.

“You won’t,” she replied, completely sure of herself.

Kit still sensed your hesitation, so she put the sword down and took both of your hands in hers. “You’re not going to get in trouble, I promise. My mom won’t let me cut my hair because she says it makes me look ‘pretty,’ but what good is beauty if I’m constantly uncomfortable? Please, I really need you to do this for me.”

There it was again, that feeling of safety that surmounted whenever Kit held your hand. You sighed defeatedly, nodding in agreement. Kit beamed at you as she placed the sword in your hands, but the large piece of metal turned out to be much heavier than you expected and you ended up dropping it, the sword falling to the ground with a loud clatter.

“I haven’t actually… used a sword before,” you admitted sheepishly.

“Hmm…” Kit thought for a second before her face brightened once again, running to a nearby rack and picking up an oddly-shaped knife. “Dagger?”

You agreed, and Kit handed you the dagger, showing you how to grip the handle. As you clutched this foreign weapon, a new sense of power washed over you. You suddenly felt invincible, safe, but a different kind of safe from when Kit held your hand.

“How short do you want it?” You asked, still examining the jagged piece of metal.

Kit shrugged. “I just don’t want to have to tie it up in order to spar.”

She turned around, facing away from you and shaking out her long locks so they all flowed down her back. You gulped, gathering her hair in a handful just below her neck, hands shaking as the previous power evaporated into thin air and replaced itself with anxiety. With one quick slash it was all over, the sharp blade passing through her delicate hairs with ease. A sigh left your lips, relieved to have completed your task. You glanced down to admire your handiwork, but were met with a sight so horrific that the dagger fell from your unsteady hands, dropping to the floor with a sharp clang.

Her hair, once long and beautiful, was now absolutely botched. Tresses meant to float over her shoulders now curled just under her ears, while crooked sprigs stuck out in all directions.

“How does it look?” Kit asked, but you were too afraid to answer.

When you didn’t, she picked up the sword off the ground, admiring her reflection in the shiny metal. Her jaw dropped, eyes wide with shock. She reached up, carefully running her fingers over the butchered ends.

A lump rose in your throat as you became overwhelmed with guilt. “Kit, I’m so…”

“I love it.” Kit said in a low voice.

You blinked, not quite registering what she said. “Huh?”

“I love it!” Kit repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s exactly what I wanted: short!”

“But it’s so choppy and uneven!” You exclaimed, confused by her elation.

Kit shook her head, sprigs flying in every direction. “I look the way I’ve always felt inside: a harbinger of chaos!”

She swung the sword around for effect, giggling like a little kid. You felt yourself relax as you watched her, relieved she wasn’t angry and somewhat enamored by her unbridled joy.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable slam of a basement door reverberated throughout the armory. A tall figure entered, holding a large torch that cast a looming shadow. You and Kit froze, tension palpable as the figure stepped forward, revealing itself to be Sorsha.

Her gaze immediately fixated on Kit’s hair, expression hardening into unreadable stone. “There was a clatter. I was afraid there might be an intruder.”

Slowly, she approached you two, both of you holding your breath in anticipation. She reached out to touch Kit’s chopped tresses tentatively, as if they would scald her. “Your hair…”

You glanced between Kit and Sorsha, a sense of dread settling inside you as you prepared your confession. “Your majesty, I…”

“I did it,” Kit interjected, surprising you. “I got fed up with my long hair, and since you wouldn’t allow me to get it cut, I snuck down here and did it myself.”

Sorsha squinted at her daughter, skeptical at her story. Noticing her doubt, Kit gestured towards you. “She’s here because she tried to stop me.”

Sorsha’s gaze shifted down, noticing Kit still holding a sword, while your hands were empty. She took a step back, her face darkening with a quiet anger. You held your breath, bracing yourself for the explosion, but instead her eyes softened as she turned to you.

“Your mother raised such a well-behaved young lady,” she remarked sweetly before redirecting her attention to Kit. “I wish I had done the same…”

You glanced over at Kit, who appeared unfazed by her mother’s hurtful words.

“We’ll continue this discussion upstairs,” Sorsha muttered through clenched teeth, seizing Kit’s arm and leading her away.

You watched as Kit was pulled out of the basement, the guilt from going along with her lie eating you up from the inside. Part of you longed to follow, to confess your involvement, but your feet stayed cemented to the floor, blocks of concrete too heavy to move.

Just before disappearing through the door, Kit turned to look at you, noting your terror-stricken face. You attempted to mouth an ‘I’m sorry,’ but she vigorously shook her head. Instead, she offered you a reassuring smile, sending a wink in your direction that made your heart squeeze. And just like that, you became certain that everything would be alright.

It would be a full month before you could speak to Kit again.

You were right to be worried about getting into trouble, because Kit had gotten herself into a lot. As punishment, she had been confined to her chambers for the past few weeks, only being let out to assist the scullions with chores. Sometimes, you would pass her walking with the maids in the hallways, and when no one was looking, she would shoot you a funny face that never failed to make you laugh.

The weeks without Kit seemed to stretch, each day growing longer than the last. You eventually grew bored with Tir Asleen, the absence of your friend diminishing the kingdom’s original appeal. Luckily, you at least had Airk to keep you company.

“Why do you think our parents keep pushing us to be friends?” You asked him one day, while you were both taking a stroll around the palace gardens.

Airk simply shrugged. “I wonder that too sometimes. Perhaps they want us to learn about each other's homes?”

You shook your head. “Azarenth is only a day trip away from Tir Asleen, not much to learn. Maybe they just want us to get along.”

“But I don’t recall any conflict between our kingdoms,” Airk remarked.

These were the typical conversations between you and Airk: mundane, frivolous words meant to fill an empty space. It’s not as if he wasn’t pleasant company, but he just didn’t excite you the way Kit did.

One early morning, near the end of the month, you were sound asleep in your guest bed when you suddenly felt a crushing weight moving on top of you, followed by the inability to breathe. You opened your eyes to see a dark figure over you, holding its hands over your nose and mouth. Fear coursed through you as your survival instinct took over, thrashing under the dark figure and screaming pleas muffled by its hands.

“Shh… shh… Princess…” the figure leaned down to whisper in your ear.

Your stifled breath hitched in your throat at the familiarity of the figure's voice. Forcing yourself to calm down, you stared up at the figure, eyes adjusting to the darkness until Kit’s unmistakable face came into view.

“Kit…” you whispered as soon as she removed her hands from your mouth. “What are you…”

“I’m not in trouble anymore,” she cut you off. “I’m free.”

“What…” you sat up to lean on your elbows. “Kit, that’s wonderful. But, what do you mean?”

“My mother’s focusing on Airk now,” she replied. “Come with me.”

She seized your hand once again and pulled you out of bed, disclosing her intentions while leading you across the castle.

“I’m usually awoken this early to assist the scullions with chores,” she explained. “However, this morning one of the more prying maids told me that I’m no longer needed, that Airk will be doing chores now.”

“But why?” You inquired.

“I’ll show you.”

She led you down to the large double doors of the palace library, opening them cautiously to avoid getting caught. The overwhelming smell of old books hit you as soon as you stepped inside, smacking you in the face before enveloping you in a warm hug. Your castle didn’t have a library as much as a few bookshelves here and there, so you couldn’t help but stop and marvel at Tir Asleen’s vast collection of books piled high as the ceiling.

“Come on,” Kit insisted, yanking you out of your daydream and pulling you towards a table in the back of the library that was covered with half-open books. “The maid said that my mother caught Airk reading these late last night, and that’s why he’s in trouble.”

“For reading?” You were puzzled.

“Not just reading,” Kit explained. “She said the literature was lewd.”

“Lewd?”

“Bad.” Kit clarified, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

Your brows furrowed, still confused. “But… how can a book be bad?”

Kit seemed unsure how to answer your question, but was curious to find out. She pulled a paper manuscript off the top of one of the piles and opened it to a random page, both of you gasping at the sight. While the text was nothing extraordinary, the margins of the pages were filled with graphic drawings of women in various states of undress.

Your finger trembled as you pointed at one of the women, the top of her dress pulled down to her stomach. “Is that…”

“I think that’s what they’re supposed to look like. When we’re older.” Kit whispered, not taking her eyes off the page.

Both of you sat at the table and stared at the page in awe, neither of you daring to speak. After a moment, you decided to pick another book off of one of the piles, the cover reading “Carmina Burana.” You glanced at Kit, who bore into you, silently daring you to open it.

Flipping to another random page, you came across a translated poem entitled “Si Puer Cum Puella,” and began to read. “If a lad and his sweet lover, in a room together linger—an ineffable game begins, in their abandoned lips and limbs.”

Looking over at Kit, you expected her to explain what the poem meant, but she seemed as confused as you were. Turning the page, you found more marginalia, these drawings far different from the ones in the manuscript. In the corner of the page was a drawing of a man, carrying a sword in a full state of undress that exposed his flaccid…

You slammed the book shut in disgust, cheeks burning a dark crimson.

“What happened?” Kit questioned.

With a shaky hand, you pushed the book in her direction. She furrowed her brow at you and flipped it open, thumbing through the pages until coming across the drawing. Horrified, she let out a sharp “eek” before slamming the book shut once again.

“Shhh…” you reminded her, remembering what happened the last time you two got caught sneaking around. She nodded, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Both of you stared down at the book as if it had burned you. The air around you felt thick, the only audible sounds being shallow breaths and your own heart beating in your ears.

“Airk has one of those,” Kit finally spoke in a low voice. “I’ve seen it. We took baths together when we were younger.”

“Do they all look like that?” You asked in disgust.

Kit shook her head, gesturing to the abandoned book. “Not like that!”

The two of you stood frozen for another minute before you decided to take a leap of faith, grabbing the “Carmina Burana” and flipping back to the offending page. You tore out the drawing, ripping it to shreds and shoving it down one of your stockings to dispose of later. Glancing over at Kit, she stood shocked, her mouth agape.

“I think boys are nasty,” you exclaimed, grabbing the previous manuscript and revisiting the page with the drawings of women, a satisfied grin spreading across your face. “Much better.”

For the rest of the summer, you and Kit made it a habit to sneak around in the dead of nights, embarking on secret little adventures just for the two of you. Sometimes you would revisit the back corners of the library to explore banned literature; other times, you would break into the kitchen to eat an entire jar of fruit preserves between the two of you.

But most nights were reserved for nothing but late-night chatter. You would hide in each other's rooms, whispering secrets that dissolved into the quiet of the night, like you did when you were younger.

However, these late nights did take a toll on your daily schedules; neither of you could stay awake during the day. When summer classes started around mid-July, you often found yourself dozing off in the middle of them, frequently waking up to the angry scolds of a palace tutor following the sharp thwack of a ruler against your desk.

One Saturday morning, you were at the breakfast table eating with the Tanthalos family, when you felt yourself start to nod off before being awoken by a sharp jab in the ribs.

“Ouch,” you exclaimed, glaring daggers at Airk, sitting next to you. “What was that for?”

He held up his hands defensively. “You fell asleep on your toast.”

Groaning, you took your napkin and wiped the butter off your cheek. Now that you were awake, you couldn’t help but notice that Kit, who usually sat across from you in a similar state of stupor, was missing.

“Where did Kit go?” You asked Airk.

He gave a half-hearted wave in the direction of the kitchen window. “It’s the first of the month. Where do you think she went?”

Sure enough, Kit had glued herself to the kitchen window, refusing to look away from the nothingness of the outside in case a messenger were to appear out of nowhere.

“Kit,” Sorsha sighed in exasperation. “Come back and finish your breakfast.”

“But dad’s letter hasn’t arrived yet!” Kit protested.

“It’s early morning, the day has just begun. I’m sure your father’s letter will arrive later, now come eat!”

Kit grumbled as she plopped herself back down at the breakfast table, wolfing down her meal in seconds flat before excusing herself back to the window.

Unfortunately, the day’s sun came and went with no letter in sight. By nightfall, Kit was still perched at the window, wringing her hands like a damp towel.

“Time for bed, Kit.” Sorsha commanded, a hint of pity in her voice.

Kit looked up at her mom with wide eyes. “What about dad’s letter?”

Sorsha sent her daughter a reassuring smile, not showing any concern. “Sometimes messengers can get lost, nothing to worry about. I’m sure his letter will turn up soon.”

Several days passed with Kit stationed at the window, growing increasingly anxious each day as she waited for something that never came. By the end of the week, still no letter had arrived, and even Sorsha’s calm composition began to falter.

“Mom,” Kit called from the window, voice coming out small and frail. “Where’s dad’s letter?”

Sorsha rested her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, peering out at the fading sky alongside her. “I’m not sure, Kit.”

“Is he alright?” Kit looked to her mother for reassurance, a small child desperate for a glimmer of hope.

Sorsha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned away from her daughter, letting the silence settle between them like a thick fog. And that was the moment all light died from Kit’s eyes, the innocence of her childhood crumbling before her like a glass vase shattering on tile floor.

That night, you were preparing for a restful evening when your door flung open. Startled, you whipped around to see Kit standing in your doorway. She seemed fragile, like a baby bird with a broken wing.

“Hey,” she whispered, her red, puffy eyes visible in the dim candlelight.

“Hey…” you responded, confused. Your midnight retreats had been put on hold after Kit’s attention turned towards her father’s letter.

“I’m worried about my dad…” Kit admitted in a low voice. “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

Her words tugged at your heartstrings, filling you with sympathy. You agreed, climbing into bed and patting the space beside you. Kit smiled gratefully and crawled onto her side, pulling the covers over the both of you. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to cram two adolescents into a twin bed, as you both had done a lot of growing since your childhood sleepover. But as Kit buried her head in your chest and snuggled up close, the proximity didn’t bother you. The warmth of your bodies merged like two flames into a single fire, becoming one and the same.

“No one knows where he is,” she mumbled into the silk of your nightgown. “Do you think something happened to him?”

You gently scratched her back and soothed her labored breaths, taking a moment to choose your words carefully. “Kit… you are one of the strongest people I know. I really, truly mean that. If your dad has even a fraction of your strength, I know there’s nothing that could stop him from seeing you again.”

Kit’s breathing evened out as your words seemed to reassure her. Her eyelids fought to stay open, a week of restless nights finally catching up to her. You bent down, planting a gentle kiss on her head before you both drifted off to sleep.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @love4lyn @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sofi4v13

[crystallizsch]

“Oh? *I* get to be in charge of our lovely Princes? Hehe. I graciously accept the challenge.”

[SR] Yuusha Tala -> GROOOOVY!! Glimmering Soirée (fan event by @starry-night-rose)

Groooovy!!: Hehe. If you want to dance with me, you’re gonna have to keep up with me first.

Set Home: Yeah, yeah… I know I’m just a glorified attendant and I don’t really have any say over the Princes... Look, just let me have this.

Home Idle 1: Helping Deuce act like a Prince has been really hilarious. But credit where credit is due, seeing him try his best is really charming.

Home Idle 2: Wow. Somehow Azul became less insufferable after being trained as a Prince. ….Wait. Nevermind. He’s still the same.

Home Idle 3: Kalim and Hornton seem to be a natural at this. I guess I should have expected that. It’s really nice to see them shine.

Home Idle - Login: Has anyone seen Grim? I swear I saw him lurking around here somewhere…

Home Idle - Groovy: I could go for "Belle of the Ball" if I really wanted to, especially since I'm the one who helped take care of everything after all. But alas, why would you vote for the magicless prefect..? Wait, unless.….

Home Tap 1: Where did I put that ghost camera? I was just holding it just a while ago… Huh? It’s around my neck? Well, that’s embarrassing. Oh stop laughing at me, will ya?

Home Tap 2: The others say I’m like a different person when I go into "manager" mode. …And they say it either like a compliment or an insult so I’m getting mixed messages.

Home Tap 3: Ugh. This cape is cool and all but people keep getting caught by it. So annoying.

Home Tap 4: Would I compete in being the Belle of the Ball if I wasn't taking care of the Princes? Depends. Would you vote for me? ~ ♡ …What do you mean you’ll give me a "pity" vote.

Home Tap 5: No, I’m not staring "longingly" at that band! …But hypothetically, do you think they’d let me play an instrument with them?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh, wow. Crazy that they totally just left this violin here. Hmmm…..

notes:

i had fun with the voice lines aaah but it might have some changes when i’m done with the groovy (and i’ll properly put her in an actual card template)

also slight lore drop from one of the voice lines: yuusha has experience hosting formal parties pre-twst. basically she just locks in (a bit too heavily) when she has hosting duties.

(some of the voice lines also foreshadow the groovy 👀)

anyways i was just messing around a lot with the outfit design and the colors hgsdfjds

i tried my best making her purple color scheme agree with the limited color palette and i think it worked out??? idk idk--

also the cape was supposed to have patterns similar to the ceremonial robes so as to label her as someone from nrc.

i wanted to include a LOT more ruffles too but i had no patience for lining all of that 🤧

(bonus sketches/concepts below)

at first i based off her suit on hans frozen but then (because of pinterest giving me ideas) i realized i wanted a more fun outfit and so here i am-

(also help me i meant to have the voice lines to be just talking to anyone but it just hit me that it sounds like she’s talking to jamil 💀 girl they just can’t leave me alone they live in my head 24/7 rent-free)

[awfuckitssunshine]

Why is everyone forgetting the Glass Legend had to have been a Master to become a Champion??

Contextually, there was the propaganda of levelling up no one BUT Evbo had been able to

So Glass had to have been a Master, had to have been BORN a Master

So why was he the easiest for Evbo to defeat? Why was he significantly worse at parkour than everyone else? Why was he only a Champion for 2 hours?

(listen to my bullshit below)

"That guy went before me? Be was only champion for 2 hours before I beat him" - Crystal Legend (paraphrased)

Crystal specifically says he beat Glass 2 hours after Glass became a Champion, this means that both had to have been masters at the same time

Now, could it be a thing of they both challenged the champion the same day but Glass got there earlier? Maybe. Maybe that's the most likely option

But I'm not here to give up at the most likely option

My theory is that Glass and Crystal were friends. Maybe even best friends.

We've seen that the Master caste system is less about surviving and more about reputation so, in this hypothetical world where you're only as cool as you show yourself to be in front of others, allies must be scare and friends even scarer

So, hypothetically, Glass and Crystal are best friends who train together, practice together, show up every day to get better and better at parkour in general and their specialties; each other being the only person who has seen them fail

However, since most Masters were shown to have wide levels of confidence and egoism, Crystal thought he was better than Glass Maybe even better than the champion

But why would Crystal risk his fabulous life to potentially die because of a parkour champion who ranked just under God

He wouldn't

Until Glass defeated the Champion.

Now, despite all the class induced self-absorbent nature, Crystal wouldn't want to just... defeat his best friend, right?

Maybe

But, if Crystal thinks he's better than Glass at Parkour, then someone else could be better, and that someone else wouldn't care what happens to Glass

And everyone except the noobs knows the Champions controls what happens

So, maybe, Crystal thought that if he defeated Glass as the better parkour master, then he could prevent Glass from dying and also being defeated by someone else

Two hours later, Crystal challenges Glass

And is getting his ass kicked

Because while Crystal was better at technical parkour, Glass was better with his specialty and continuously made more and more difficult parkour using glass that Crystal did not have much of

Crystal starts losing, starts running out of blocks, out of ideas, out of time.

And Glass knows this...

Glass was suppose to win.

....but he didn't.

He chose not to.

Glass was raised in an environment where its yourself first, its your reputation first, but he was fighting his best friend... the only person who has ever seen him fail, the only person who didn't leave him, didn't mock him for all these failures

Glass didn't want his best friend to die. He didn't want to be so selfish of a title he'd have to fight for--kill for--because he was so selfish to let his friend lose.

So Glass purposely fails. Over and over again until, finally, he slipped off.

Glass had lost.

Crystal was the new champion. And he felt so guilty for it "but why would crystal be so mean?"

Because, as Ice explained, the people Evbo were battling were only remnants of the real Legends, who all died long ago

Of course Glass, who was only champion for 2 hours, would be significantly worse at parkour in his remnant state He failed on purpose to protect his friend

Of course Crystal, who survived, would be cruel to Glass; Masters were shaped to be cruel, and this grief might've been corrupted to something akin to sarcasm, hatred, just... unable to remember anything but his victory over a failure of a champion

Because legends are word of mouth stories; they don't capture everything that was said and done.

And why would you be honest you've only gotten your title because someone took pity on you.

In conclusion; the inherit oppressive nature of the Masters class and reputation caused a rift between two best friends, and now their remnants are lost to this friendship because their legends were written with only half the truth.

[ampblamp]

AU: Here's How Billford Can Still Win

(part 1: make that triangle miserable)

tl;dr: i want bill to have his ability to live in denial about what he did shattered by several important figures from his past BEFORE he can enact weirdmageddon. this way the yaoi can be messy and toxic (at first) but NOT doomed. it's self indulgent for sure but i'm doin my best to keep it IC as i can 🫡

this first post is just me figuring out how i think things would have to go down on bill's end for billford to have any chance of working out. take my hand. come away with me to my autism world

i'm still figuring out all the details of what would have to change to like. weaken bill's mental defenses enough because he HAS been able to shove his guilt down for so long. i do think everything with ford would be one of the key factors cause he had never connected so much with any of his prior human partners and obviously things souring fucked him up enough to have a turbo breakdown. (i know it's also because of the amount of times the plan has failed but i think he's also feeling rejected by so many humans not liking him lolll)

i think his breakdown after getting wasted at o'sadley's would happen like in canon, save for its repercussions. once bill starts thinking about his mom and everyone else from euclydia around when he's about to be arrested, maybe it would open the door for thoughts of them to keep slipping through his defenses. and suddenly thinking about weirdmageddon and hearing himself and other people talking about it could have a chance of triggering him.

i know personally that trauma can jump in and completely drag you back in time regardless of any logic, and i think him having that kind of episode sooner might be the key to getting him to face that he doesn't want to keep repeating what he did to euclydia because it's never going to be enough to convince the small, small voice in his head saying 'stop'.

because that's just the thing. bill has forced himself down a path of destruction to Prove to himself that its actually for the best to tear down "miserable reality" and replace it with his own vision. his drive and impatience to get weirdmageddon going is BECAUSE he wants to permanently cement that narrative in his mind with the ultimate "proof". because if the narrative fails, not only will he not be able to mentally cope (without help) he'll completely fail the henchmaniacs, who he promised a new home, and look vulnerable and weak, which he's TRAINED them to view as what should be destroyed.

i think the o'sadley breakdown and my proposed worsened repercussions of it would destabilize him, but it wouldn't be enough to stop him. what would push bill over the edge in this hypothetical would be several powerful entities from bill's past like the axolotl, the oracle, and time baby working together to somehow target his mental weak point. cause remember, time baby canonically KNOWS bill's weak point.

also like. To Me. the axolotl and the oracle are people bill was close to and has seen himself in at one point* but they matured and he didn't, and that's why he's SO hostile towards them.

*the oracle being an ex-henchmaniac is canon but i say this about the axolotl because of xolotl. look him up, it'll freak your bean.

alsooooo... ford not being as immature and vengeful as bill hoped he was is probably why bill broke down so hard - because it reminded him of the axolotl and the oracle. all the people who he actually connected with on a deeper level have left because of the same reason. but bill was always too terrified to confront everything he's done, which would be necessary to follow them.

so ends part 1... next, i think i'm gonna try to figure out how ford and bill would meet again (haha). ford is sucked into the portal right after (maybe even during?) the whole o'sadley's deal iirc sooo... fun point in the timeline to play with!

also hopin to draw stuff for this AU in the future :]c calling upon the power of my newly aquired ADHD meds lmao

[rei-ismyname]

Is Magneto mistaken or am I taking this too literally?

Ambassador Magneto has a lot to say in House of X, especially to humans on the subject of violence.

All his dreams are coming true and he's not shy about expressing his feelings on the matter. At the Jerusalem habitat the other ambassadors (who are all intelligence plants) claim to be wary of military advantage Krakoa and the gates provide.

Let's fact check Magneto there. 'There has never been a mutant war.'

What's this then? It doesn't sound very good at first glance but can it be considered a mutant war? It's basically Magneto himself unleashing an EMP and making demands of the UN. A mutant sanctuary - one they gave him too - Genosha. Terrorist act? Yeah defs. War? I'd say no.

What else? Oh yeah, that time Magneto conquered Santo Marco, a fictional South American country. Spoilers for a comic from 1963.

Okay so shelling is bad, definitely a warlike action, though it's later said there were no casualties at all, mainly thanks to Mastermind's illusions. Still, really bad optics there dude. The fake soldiers are straight up goose-stepping. This is drawn by Jack Kirby too, who definitely had strong feelings about that kind of thing - not something he'd portray unintentionally.

You'll note Mags having pseudo telepathy at this point, mainly bc Stan Lee had no idea how magnetism works.

Let's be honest, there's a big Nazi vibe to this occupation. This is in X-Men #4 in 1963, over a decade before Mags was retconned into a Jewish holocaust survivor. I'm honestly not a big fan of the original X-Men run and I can see why it got cancelled. Magneto was their greatest foe, but he was a pretty one dimension Doctor DOOM expy with none of the pathos, willpower or consistent ideology Claremont would reinvigorate him with. Anyway, sensing defeat, Magneto arms a nuke to blow the whole country up. Yikes.

It's actually Quicksilver who solves that problem, deciding he's not okay with nuking a few million people. It's the start of his face turn proper, with only Wanda's 'debt' to Mags keeping her there, and therefore Quicksilver as well.

See? Not cool, Mags. Not cool. When it's all said and done though, his occupation of Santo Marco is very brief and news doesn't get out. I assume Chuck had something to do with that. Though the country refuses to accept Krakoa for 'ideological reasons' nearly 60 years later, so maybe not. I'm going to say it definitely counts as 'conquering their land and making slaves of their people ' though.

Honestly, Magneto has died a lot since then, had amnesia and barely aged in 70 years so maybe he doesn't remember. One could argue that the spirit of what he's saying is correct - Magneto the individual did a lot of supervillain shit but there hasn't been a unification of mutants who then warred upon humans. Indeed, the opposite is true. Most mutant conflicts that could be called a war were defensive after these events.

None of the 'ambassadors' took issue with past events or his record, instead focusing on future hypotheticals. Someone should tell them that if mutants united in world conquest they'd likely be very successful and humans wouldn't know until it was too late. Technically Magneto has been tried for his acts before an international court, and acquitted because he'd been turned into a baby and was considered a different person. Yes, really.

The conversation pivots to the emissaries being there in bad faith, with slick concealing a gun. (Not that it would be very useful.)

Magneto demonstrates why that's the case and doesn't budge on his position. I guess we could say Magneto was (technically) right, in this specific circumstance. A show of force is certainly needed to make them take Krakoa seriously. It's only fitting then that Mags acts as the stick to make the carrot more palatable. I've still got room for one more pic so here's the X-Men enjoying post-training birthday cake, cut by Cyclops and his POWER BEAM. The X-Men's first birthday as a group.

Note the contrast in vibes around the Brotherhood of EEEVIL Mutants' dinner table, with petty bickering, Mastermind being a creep (the X-Men have that too tho NGL,) and a very impressive tower of mashed potato. Good to know Toad has poor table manners and that Pietro is willing to punch on over it. Not to be mean, but Wanda's headgear looks super silly. Oh well, it was the sixties!

[ashleyleygraves]

If I were to make the next Zelda game, what would I change?

Bring back underwater traversal and real Water Temples.

If you were to think about any iconic Zelda item that isn't a weapon, you'd most likely think about the hook/clawshot. I like that we can climb, but I miss the claw/hookshot. Personally, I'd have the Skyward Sword climbing mechanics where you can climb a little bit but not much, but make it so that the hook/clawshot can go on any surface. Even better is a double claw/hookshot so you can swing around like Spider-Man

Linkle. That's right, from the original Hyrule Warriors spin-off game. It would be cool if we got to choose to play as Link or Linkle at the beginning of the game. Make it so that Link can't get into Gerudo Town without a disguise like in Breath of the Wild, but also make it so Linkle can't get into Goron City without a disguise, that way it's even and there's no major advantage.

If Linkle can't be an option, I'd have Link be a different race than Hylian. Tears of the Kingdom already teased us with this concept with the Ancient Hero. Before TotK, the closest we got was Ocarina of Time/Majora's Mask Link who thought he was a Kokiri but found out that he was in fact Hylian and also had ghost masks to shapeshift into other races. (Or you could also add Linkle as this race too. But I think that's a bit much)

20 hearts OR harder enemies. With BotW, Link had 30 hearts. In literally every other Zelda game he had 20. With 30 hearts, it was a decent change in normal mode, but in Master Mode, it made it essential. Enemies did more damage and evolved from their normal mode counterparts. In TotK, Link has 40 hearts and no Master Mode. The enemies do basically the same damage as in BotW's normal mode and sometimes even far less with the decayed-unfused weapons. So I would make the series go back to 20 hearts or have Master Mode as the default difficulty.

A new fast travel system. Look, shrines were a good idea. Especially for a fast travel system, but if we're getting rid of the 10-20 extra hearts how I would do it, we need something else. For this, let's turn to Skyrim for just a second. The fast travel system there is broken because every cave, tower, dungeon, etc. is a fast travel point, but let's look at the towns/cities and important landmarks: they're fast travel points once we discover them. So let's turn those things into fast travel points in this hypothetical Zelda game. Now, what about the less significant parts of the map? Well, a few train stations around the map with a train. I mean, trains are in the Zelda universe. Spirit Tracks literally is about that, so it wouldn't be a big deal. I had this idea back in 2021, and now even fucking Fortnite has a train around a map with a few train stations in random spots.

This one will make a bit more sense if you read my "If I were to make a Zelda game, what would I keep?" post. Heart Pieces/Stamina pieces. You could go the normal route with 4 pieces makes a full thing or go Twilight Princess style with 5 pieces makes a full thing. These would probably be given as quest rewards in quests that are Side Adventures rather than Main Quests or Side Quests. Side quests would give you rupees or a rare item and Main Quests will give you more story progression.

Bring back the "one-and-done" races like the Kokiri, Twili, Minish, Zonai, Lokomo, etc.

[redheadwannabesblog]

Weasleys revenge: missing scene HBP

A few days after Ron getting poisoned Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna sat in the hospital wing with him. Ginny had dropped off a stack of old editions of Quidditch Monthly that she’d thought Ron would like. Luna placed a large pink crystal next to his bed that she swore would speed his recovery. 

Hermione grimaced but at the look Ginny shot her said it was a very nice thought. Hermione tried to convince Ron to catch up on some schoolwork but he just groaned “what’s the point of nearly dying if I can’t even get out of a few essays.”

The doors to the hospital wing swung open and Romilda Vane came charging in flanked by two girls Harry vaguely recognized from the train. It took him a moment to realize it was in fact Romilda because her pale skin and dark hair had turned a deep green color. She looked like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz that he had seen glimpses of before the Dursley’s had quickly changed the channel on the TV. 

Romilda looked straight at Ginny and spat “you did this to me didn’t you!!!”

Ginny looked up at her in mock surprise and said simply “ I don’t know what you are talking about. What is it you think I’ve done?”

“This, you witch! My hair! my skin! I look like I’m covered in moss. Get it off me!!”

Despite being shouted at Ginny looked up calmly. “Are you accusing me of turning you green?”

“Of course I am! Who else would’ve been mental enough to do this?!”

Hermione jumped up clearly in Prefect mode when Ginny stood and walked towards Romilda. 

“Well Romilda, poisoning another student is a serious accusation. Something like that would be enough to earn someone a month of detention if they weren’t suspended. So I hope you have some evidence other than me being mental. 

But we should get to the bottom of this. Tell me did whoever poison you leave something behind, like I don’t know were they stupid enough to sign their name?” 

At this she held out a small bit of parchment toward Romilda that Harry recognized as the note from the box of spiked chocolate cauldrons. He wondered briefly how she had found it before turning his attention back to the scene unfolding. Hermione looked concerned. Ron was looking on in great interest as nothing this exciting had happened in days. 

Romilda stared down at the note. 

“Oh come on! that was harmless.”

Ginny calm was gone at this. Anger flushed her face and the note in her hand was crumbled in her clenched fist. 

“HARMLESS! 

You tried to poison my friend, you actually poisoned my brother and  he could have died! “

“That wasn’t my fault and I got that potion from your other brothers BY THE WAY!”

“Oh believe me Fred and George already got an earful and they have learned their lesson and recalled the last of those awful love potions. Nothing about this was harmless and Ron wouldn’t be in that bed if it wasn’t for you! So maybe whoever turned you green wanted you to know what being forced into something outside of your control feels like!!!”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Everyone jumped to see madam Pomfrey standing behind them looking livid. 

“Miss Vane, I’m am sure the coloring is temporary. Go grab a bed over there and I will be right with you. I’m sure your friends can leave you alone for a little while.”

Romilda marched to a bed as far from Ginny as possible. And hid herself behind a curtain. 

Madam Pomfrey looked at Ginny. Who had gone back to her seat between a stunned looking Ron and a gleeful Luna. 

“Now do you have ideas on what might remove that coloring, Miss Weasley.”

“I never said it was me who did it.” Ginny said trying and failing to look innocent. 

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I only meant hypothetically”

Ginny looked up at her and said slowly “hypothetically it would probably wash away with a bit of rosewater”.

The matron turned and walked towards her medicine cabinet. 

“Wow Ginny” said Ron smugly “I had no idea you cared so much.”

“Oh shut up and read your magazine. And don’t look at me like that Granger you once trapped a woman in a jar and transported her across England, so don’t judge me. “

Harry burst out laughing. Ginny’s glower disappear and she started laughing too. The monster in his chest was beaming.