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dxncingwithastrxnger · 1 year

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9. interlude: possibilities

A/N: Chapter 9 and the third interlude of this story!! Most of the chapters after this will be quite a bit longer than the others, I think, so I apologize if they take a bit longer to get out than usual, but I’ll still try my best to get them out as soon as I can!! I really enjoy writing these little snippets, they’re really fun, tbh, so I hope you guys like them, too. Not much to say in my little note right now, so onto the chapter!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot (kinda)

Summary: It’s not always our fault if we choose the wrong possibility. Sometimes, it’s the only one we’re able to make. Even if it means you take one step back instead of one step forward.

Tag(s): Breaking and entering (mention), breakdown

Song Inspiration: N/A

Word Count: 796

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

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[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

They say the world is full of possibilities. Anything can happen, anything is possible, nothing is impossible. Is the teacher going to give a pop quiz or announce a new project? Is dinner going to be turkey or chicken? Is that present going to be a new book or a new lego set? Some possibilities are connected to your own choices, but most of them aren't. Most of them are provided without anyone's say but that of the universe itself. There are those who claim it's unfair and try to force their own possibilities. People try to force control where there can be none. And in doing so, they actually push themselves farther away from the possibilities they want so much in the end.

Then there are some people who aren't even aware that they have possibilities in the first place. Some people just see one possible choice, one possible outcome, and nothing more, when maybe there's actually four or five of them. And when they choose the wrong possibility, they feel guilt, as if they did something wrong. At times it is, for those so blinded by their own mind that they aren't allowing themselves to see what's right there. And for others, it's the opposite, other people blocking their view or the path they've led up until that point not allowing the other possibilities to even be visible in the first place. The man frantically searching the dark house he had forced his way into is experiencing the latter.

"Tris!? Tristan!?" The blonde-haired man cries out for another. Around another corner. Back up the basement stairs. Through the kitchen once more. Up to the second floor. He's quickly dissolving into hysterics, despite how much he's trying not to. The two women in the house with him, waiting by the door, exchange looks of deep worry and concern. A hint of sadness to them both, slouched shoulders and dull eyes.

The blonde goes through every single room in the house, every single floor. He looks in each closet, in each cupboard, just in case. He presses at the walls and moves every bookcase as if expecting some secret door to be at each one. His breathing is quick and heavy, way faster than it should be, but he can't find it in himself to care. The women gasp as he throws a fist at the wall with an angry shout at the one who's caused his despair. The one who took his love away.

A sob escapes his throat and he falls back against the now broken wall, sliding to the floor as he curls in on himself. The pinkette and bluette move to his sides immediately, hoping to provide whatever comfort they can, even though they know it won't really help the man. He breaks down. Fully and completely breaks down. He's sure he's not done so in over a decade. He breaks down because the house is empty. In fact, the whole place is covered in a thin layer of dust, as if no one had been in it for weeks before they'd came and disturbed it. And he knows for certain now that he cannot live without the man he's lost. It's...impossible. How could he ever be without a person when it hurts this much to be? Or, a better question, how is it even possible to be this attached to one single person? How can someone, after just months of being in his life, carve such a large place for themselves inside his heart?

He knows now, without question, that he is in love with the man. It's the only explanation for how much pain he's in, as if his ribcage is being forced open and with every snap of bone, he's sinking deeper and deeper into dark, cold waters. And he has no idea if the snapping will ever stop or if it'll just continue until a hand can wrap around his heart and squeeze, stealing his entire life away from him. The man has no idea if he'll ever find his love again. Because this house is the only possibility he knows of. He doesn't know about the large weapon of a house hiding away in the middle of the woods. He doesn't know about the dark, soundless room or anything around it. He doesn't know that there's another possibility just hours away from him. Because his path never allowed him to. And now, because of that, all he can do is sit and cry in this barren living space, hoping that the man will return to him one day.

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A/N: What do you guys think?? Everything’s gonna start connecting together real soon!! Lemme know your thoughts on this chapter!!

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Tag(s):

@darkelf-7

@ivyllamauwu

@toryhis

[Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series and any other stories relating to it!!!]

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demigodofhoolemere · 3 years

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One thing that will always bother me about BBC Merlin is that no one ever knew Gwen was enchanted in “Lancelot du Lac”, including herself. They just let all of the characters believe that she genuinely had a moment of weakness that she had to atone for and be forgiven for. On top of that, most of them will always believe that Lancelot actually survived and spent all that time recovering and making his way back to Camelot, and that he was less than his true noble self by committing the dishonor of pursuing an engaged woman and then killed himself for the weight of his guilt. All of the knights, his friends that he served side by side with, will always think that. Arthur and Gwen will always think that, and that their relationship hurdle was built on legitimate wrongdoing that they had to move past. At least Merlin knew about Lancelot, but still not about Gwen. How difficult would it have been to find that stupid bracelet in the cell and have Gaius examine it? Would that have been so hard to give me peace of mind?

#bbc merlin #guinevere #sir lancelot #additionally i still wish he'd lived because i was getting more and more attached to him just before he died #he was so lovely and it was so nice for merlin to have another friend he could be open with #and you know what else would have been nice?#more friendship with arthur and platonic interactions with gwen free of any tensions #i wanted to see them all be good friends with legitimately no more awkwardness or thoughts of other feelings #maybe even see lancelot find another he cares for by the end #but no we had to be depressing

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.”

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing.

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man.

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding.

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner.

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip.

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

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gaygh0stt · 3 years

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because I still have jedtavius brainrot, I'm gonna ramble about my favorite natm headcanons ❤️

(sorry if this gets long (future me here: it did))

Larry is constantly finding Jed and Oct hiding out places and being romantic little dumbasses. he has a whole album of pictures of them on his phone that he could use as blackmail material, but honestly they're not even blackmail because at this point practically everyone in the museum has found them in some compromising position or another (but, of course, they think they're being so sneaky about it)

I absolutely love all the fics where they have museum wide movie nights, it's just so wholesome you can't convince me this isn't canon now🥺 Jed and Oct have totally fallen asleep on eachother multiple times during these, they also get into little arguments over the movies to the point where Larry's threatened to kick them out.

While we know Ahkmenrah has a dark sense of humor, he's also a very good listener and gives great advice. he's also very protective and kind and cares deeply for everyone in the museum and he's still a bit of a child at heart (dying so young sorta does that to ya) like yeah he's a little weird, but he's really good at heart ❤️ (....is my childhood crush showing...)

Because this is my canon and I can do what I want, the tablet and everything stays at the museum permanently after the end of the third movie (obviously Ahk's family is there too) because i don't want to think about these guys not having more time together. I would also like to think that Tilly transfers there too now that Larry's moved on. Also Lancelot's just there vibin.

Jed and Oct both slowly pick up eachother's specific vocabularies and sometimes slip them in when they're talking, much to their embarrassment. The first time it happened, Oct slipped up and they both just stared at each other, shocked for a good minute, and Jed never lets him live it down.

Also, Jed has taken to calling Oct "my liege," he'll be super corny about it, bowing and kissing Oct's hand, and every time Oct gets so flushed and Jed just watches him with a delighted smile🥺

I'd like to think that Jed is the one to teach Oct to dance (as in, actual partner dancing). Oct was a general, most of his time was spent fighting and planning for war, i don't see him being much of a party person, but Jed was always dancing and sort of being the life of the party in the wild west, so he teaches Oct and they spend many nights just dancing together (and of course they'll dance to Taylor Swift, because this is my new agenda ❤️)

Larry is constantly getting chewed out by McPhee because of Jed and Octavius, it gets to the point where he doesn't even understand how Larry does it, he thinks that Larry must get custom miniatures made just to put them in the most ridiculous positions. Jed and Oct then get chewed out by Larry but they never learn and they honestly don't want to because Larry getting onto them is sort of hilarious and they know none of his threats are really serious

(Gonna get a bit horny rip) I agree with what seems to be the common belief of Oct mainly being a bottom (and sometimes a bratty one at that) but i believe they are both switches and on the occasion that Jed bottoms he's just absolute putty and Octavius takes great pride in this (okay maybe i just want to see Jed being absolutely taken apart to the point he can barely move...sue me)

Both Jed and Octavius have a bad habit of getting caught up in their work and forgetting to rest, so when one notices the other doing this they have to physically drag them away from their work and it leads to lots of back massages, hair stroking, sweet nothings, and cuddles (we saw the horny version of this in my asks but here is the pg version that i thought it was heading in sksk)

Jed and Oct have lots of little hideouts around the museum that they go to when they want to get away from the ruckus and have some alone time together. Larry knows about a few of them but keeps quiet and let's them have their fun❤️

They are both so fucking touch starved. they'll never admit it, but a lot of their fighting was an excuse to be close to eachother before they fully realized their feelings. now they're both extremely clingy and if they find themselves alone, they are never not touching (in public it's a bit of a different story, but eventually they do sort of become an obnoxious pda couple)

If we're gonna go for canon compliancy, I'd say they finally get together at the end of Secret of The Tomb. I also love the angst factor of them not getting together and freezing thinking they'll never know eachother's true feelings until they suddenly wake up again three years later and just immediately run to find each other to confess because they can't stand the thought of losing that chance again and it's just a very tearful confession (both happy and sad tears) and they vow to make the most of whatever time they have left together (which in my mind is like forever because i can't let go of these dumbasses) to make up for all the lost years (i do have some other getting together scenarios that i want to use for fics tho👀)

...okay this got a little out of hand so I think I'll leave it at that for now, but who knows maybe I'll add more later❤️

#jedtavius #jedediah and octavius #jedediah x octavius #jedediah #octavius #natm #night at the museum #ahkmenrah #larry daley #headcanons

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Dumb Luck

Prompt: the usual "Everyone knows Merlin has Magic but Merlin doesn't know they know" but Arthur's being really fucking thick about it. Everything that could possibly be magic Arthur has brushed off as luck or something. At some point Merlin realizes that the knights know (or maybe he's known all along) and the knights tell Merlin that Arthur knows but he's being stupid, which leads to Merlin performing increasingly extravagant/impressive/silly magic in front of Arthur until the point Arthur just asks if Merlin would like him to acknowledge the fact that he doesn't care that Merlin has magic

no brain cells for these boys, leon stop hoarding them

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none!

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic who tf knows

Word Count: 2943

Alright. Merlin’s going to be honest. Is the absolute best at hiding his magic from people? No. Is he a damn sight near better than some other bastards would be if they had his magic? Yes, yes, he is, thank you very much. They would do quite well to remember that he is magic, and he’s had it since he was born, so he knows what he’s doing when it comes to knowing that he has it. Yes, thank you, he doesn’t go around doing every single thing he could with magic because well, then he’d never get to do much of anything ever again.

And that would be boring.

But yes, maybe he’s a little petty or lazy sometimes. Honestly, he’s just being efficient. Yes, he can justify pettiness as efficient. He’s just getting them back for something that he would otherwise have to expend so much effort doing. It’s very handy.

So the knights work out he has magic. Big surprise there, he knows. Lancelot is Lancelot, Gwaine is Gwaine. Percival stumbles in on him lifting too much a little too easily and cracks a joke about having Merlin pull his weight more on hunting trips and patrols. Elyan watches him fix armor and immediately clamors to bring Merlin to his and Gwen’s forge so he can actually show him how to fix armor.

Leon takes him aside quietly one day and thanks him. Merlin doesn’t start crying, he doesn’t end up breaking down into Leon’s arms, and Leon definitely doesn’t promise that although Merlin may not have been knighted, he thinks of him as his brother in arms.

Leon is very rude sometimes, as a matter of fact.

But Arthur doesn’t seem to notice.

Now, Arthur doesn’t notice a lot. Doesn’t notice Merlin shifting his chair a little bit so he crashes onto the floor, doesn’t notice Gwen spending just a hair too much time with Morgana in the evenings, doesn’t notice the guards that don’t even pay attention to the dungeons. Like, at all.

But there are some things he…should notice.

Like when a branch suddenly lifts itself up from a forest floor to trip a bandit.

“Bandits,” Merlin mutters under his breath, “why is it always bandits?”

He deflects a blow and sends one of them flying into a tree. Behind him, Elyan parries a blow and deftly clubs the man over the head. Arthur is battling another bandit a few paces away as one tries to run up behind him.

Merlin’s hand is out in a flash and the tree branch right in front of Arthur wheels up and smacks the man across the face.

Arthur whirls around and cuts the other man down, successfully putting an end to the fight. Around the clearing, the knights shake their heads and go about picking up the rest of their camp. Really, being far too calm for men who just killed a bunch of people.

Except for Merlin.

Merlin, while this is happening, is slowly coming to the conclusion that he would like to be swallowed up by the ground and never emerge again.

He just used magic, very obviously, in front of Arthur.

Is this the first time he’s done it? No, not by a long shot, but it is the first time he’s done it without any regard for whether Arthur can see.

Arthur turns and Merlin’s heart drops to his stomach.

Arthur wrenches his sword out of the ground and stalks over to him.

Arthur roughly grabs his shoulder. Shakes. Hard.

“Merlin! Merlin, answer me?”

“…Arthur?”

Arthur’s face is drawn. Grim. Almost his father’s. His grip hurts.

“Where are you hurt?”

Merlin blinks. What? Where is he what?

“Where is it, Merlin,” Arthur growls again, already looking him over, “where did they hurt you?”

“I’m—I’m not hurt.”

“You’re paler than a damn sheet, Merlin, you must be losing blood.” Arthur’s hand is…surprisingly gentle as it lifts his chin. “Tell me where. Come on. Now’s not the time for shame.”

“No, no,” Merlin mumbles, “I’m not—not hurt. Didn’t get hurt.”

Arthur slows, grim expression morphing to confusion. “Then why do you look so…”

If in doubt, poke fun at yourself.

“Just scared, I guess,” Merlin tries with a self-deprecating laugh, “wasn’t expecting bandits.”

Arthur huffs, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Leave it to you to be such a drama queen that I think you’re bleeding out.”

“’S nice of you to care.”

“Just glad I don’t have to drag your corpse back to Gaius.”

So that was…bizarre. Not the most bizarre thing that’s ever happened to Merlin, not at all, but bizarre. Arthur may be a little unobservant at times but he’s not that oblivious.

But, in fairness to him—which is something Merlin tries not to do too often—he was in the middle of a fight and had just killed a man. Knights may not be known for the smarts but they are known for their overprotectiveness.

Yes, he can hear you lot protesting over there, it’s true and you know it.

And maybe…maybe Merlin’s been getting a little sick of Gaius screaming about how secret his magic must be kept in broad daylight with the door wide open. Listen, if you think he’s about to get scolded by your parental unit and not immediately find some way to rebel, you don’t know Merlin very well.

And yes, maybe there’s a sick little thrill he gets out of doing magic in front of Arthur.

Maybe.

So. The next time they’re on a hunting trip and he’s as sure as he can be that there aren’t any bandits around, he decides to push a little bit.

Arthur is lounging around because you can take the prince out of the castle but you can’t take the castle out of the prince and he thinks he’s still about to receive the finest of dishes that Camelot’s kitchens can prepare. Well, no, but he is about to not have to cook it himself.

“Light the fire, Merlin, it’s not that hard.”

“Have you ever lit a fire a day in your life?”

“Sure, when I was training.”

“Training? You needed training to learn how to light a fire?”

“It was survival training, with the elder knights. Had to survive a night on my own.”

“On your own?”

“Well, my own campsite. They stayed about a league away.”

Merlin just sighs and crouches down. He eyes Arthur, who is tending to his sword, and then very slowly but pointedly sets the flint and steel aside. Arthur isn’t paying much attention to him.

Slowly, Merlin leans forward and lights the fire with his magic.

Arthur looks up. Merlin looks back at him. Arthur swings the sword off his lap. He sets it on the log, his hand still wrapped around the pommel. The tip of the blade points straight at Merlin’s chest. It gleams in the firelight.

“See? I told you it wasn’t hard.”

Is…is he serious?

As it turns out, yes. Arthur is completely serious.

And at this point, this is science, now, what Merlin’s doing. Experiments. He has to know the limits! He has a hypothesis, he has a method, he wants to reach a conclusion.

Hypothesis: Arthur is really, really oblivious to anything magical.

Method: do increasingly obvious magic in front of Arthur until he notices.

Conclusion: how oblivious is Arthur?

An important caveat: Merlin doesn’t know how Arthur will react to finding out he has magic, but he can burn that bridge when he gets there.

So when he wakes Arthur up the next morning, he draws the curtains with a flourish and when Arthur turns over and pulls the blanket up to his cheek in protest, he flicks his wrist and yanks the covers off the bed.

What does Arthur do?

Mumble and groan and stumble out of bed saying Merlin’s worse than his first governess.

“Wait, first?”

“Morgana and I snuck a toad into her bed. She quit after that.”

“You two did what?”

“Think there’s still frog spawn in that bed frame. Father had that chamber closed off for a while.”

“You—eat your breakfast, you prat.”

“You’re the one that pulled my blankets away!”

…okay, so he needs to take it up a notch.

One of the ones that pisses Gaius off the most is when Merlin uses magic to polish multiple pieces of Arthur’s armor at the same time. So when Arthur is at his desk, Merlin lays his shield across his lap and grabs two polishing rags. He sets the can of polish next to him and starts working on the shield. When he’s sure Arthur is focusing, he uses his magic to lift the breastplate up next to him and start to beat out the dents.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighs, “can you keep it down any?”

Showtime. “Don’t know what you mean, sire.”

“That bloody racket! Can you at least be a little quieter?”

“What racket?”

Arthur shoves the paper away from him and glares at the ceiling. “That banging! It’s so loud I can barely hear myself think!”

“It’s no louder than you normally are, sire.”

“Oh, you—I ought to—“ Arthur just mutters to himself as he claps his hands over his ears.

But he never looks toward Merlin.

Huh.

So maybe Arthur isn’t ignoring him because he’s oblivious. Maybe…maybe he knows already and is…is trying to protect Merlin.

Uther is still King of Camelot. Morgana is outspoken against his cruelty but he is still very much in charge. There’s only so much protection the knights can afford him. There’s only so much protection Arthur can afford him.

So…so maybe Arthur is pretending he doesn’t see because he knows he can’t save Merlin if he has to acknowledge it.

Merlin takes a few days to process that. The knights are concerned, they ask him what’s wrong, what does he need, how can they help? He waves them off, says he’s just thinking.

“Maybe,” Lancelot says kindly, “but with you, Merlin, you’re never just thinking.”

“Or at least it doesn’t stay that way for very long,” Gwaine agrees, slinging an arm around Merlin’s shoulders, “and I don’t know about you lot but I like a little bit of forewarning before I wake up to ale in my shoes.”

“You asked for another round, you didn’t say where.”

“Why the hell would I want them in my shoes?”

Gwaine does what Gwaine always does and steers the attention away from Merlin, leaving Leon and Lancelot to carefully prod him a little more privately. He waves them off too, even though he’s sure he isn’t keeping as much as he would like to be from Leon.

Merlin stops using his magic as much. He does his chores as much as he can using his two hands, lugs buckets of water without complaint, polishes armor until his nose burns and his eyes sting. He uses his magic for particularly stubborn stains in his room and keeps a sharper eye out for how to move this bandit’s sword a little to the right, or how to make this knight’s staff a little heavier.

He thinks Arthur is trying to hide for him, so he hides for Arthur.

Then he can’t hide.

A sorcerer is threatening to collapse the walls of Camelot in on themselves. The entire citadel shakes as Merlin and the knights rush out, dragging as many people as they can. The stone trembles and the wood groans and there are screams. More screams than Merlin could ever bear to hear join the chorus of more than he could ever know that plague him every time he closes his eyes.

He shuts them anyway and runs.

He runs away from the knights, magic pushing him faster, faster, faster with the need to protect the castle, protect the people, protect Arthur. The sorcerer is pulling him away from his people and for that…for that, he must pay.

By the time he gets to the field, it is rippling with magic. Merlin’s fingertips, his ears, even his nose tingles as he rushes deeper, deeper, deeper, trying to get to the eye of the storm.

There, in the middle of a patch of grass, stands a sorcerer. In robes deeper than night and hair whipped up in the wind of the spell.

Merlin grits his teeth and says no.

And when the Greatest Sorcerer to Ever Walk the Earth calls, Magic answers.

The sorcerer is dust before he manages to open his mouth. The field settles. Magic returns to the earth. And Merlin collapses to his knees as the knights run up behind him.

He isn’t a fool, despite what others may have led you to believe. He knows this was magic, could only be magic, and could only be stopped by magic.

So when the knights rush up to him and collapse to their knees around him, muttering that he’s alright, he did it, he’s safe, he did it, is he hurt, all he can think of is how he’s going to have to explain this to Arthur.

They tell him he doesn’t need to explain anything. That Arthur already knows, that he doesn’t care.

Merlin doesn’t believe them. Even if he saved Camelot, which he’s already done, he has magic. He used magic to do it.

They tell him again that it doesn’t matter, that Arthur doesn’t, won’t care.

But Merlin still has to tell him.

“Tell me what?”

+1.

Arthur rushes into the clearing. He can hear him behind them. He can’t find it in him to get up. The knights are still around him, he can hear Lancelot’s voice in his ear, feel Leon’s hands on his shoulders, but he can’t move. Can’t speak.

“Tell me what,” Arthur repeats, and oh, he sounds angry, “what is it?”

“Merlin,” someone—Gwaine—is muttering, “Merlin, it’s alright, he won’t care, he doesn’t care—“

“Of course I care,” comes the cold, cold voice and Gwaine falters, “now move.”

Merlin’s chest clenches. There’s the sharp sing of steel as Gwaine draws his sword.

“Put it down.”

“Nope, can’t do that.”

Then Leon stands up. “Arthur, please think carefully about this.”

“I don’t have to think carefully about anything. Merlin is hurt, let me tend to him. He’s mine.”

“You won’t hurt him.”

“No, I certainly don’t intend to, so move.”

Lancelot’s hands are the last to leave him. Merlin is cold. It’s so cold. His magic buries deep inside his chest and it feels hard to breathe.

Boots. Boots on the ground in front of him. They flatten the grass as a shadow blocks the light. Armor creaks as the figure kneels down. A gauntleted hand cups his chin.

“Merlin,” comes a voice that’s soft, too soft, “Merlin, I need you to look at me.”

And what is he supposed to do, disobey?

Arthur’s face is too warm when Merlin looks up at him. His mouth tugs up into a little smile as Merlin finally makes eye contact with him.

“There you are,” he says, still in that soft voice that doesn’t make sense, “now, are you hurt?”

Merlin can only blink.

“Merlin,” he says, and his voice is a little firmer as he cups Merlin’s chin properly, “are you hurt? What happened?”

His throat is too dry. “Not hurt.”

Arthur relaxes, only marginally. “Then why do you look so upset?”

The world could collapse and Merlin would be frozen here, trapped in the silence of Arthur’s gaze.

Unbidden, his eyes flash gold.

Arthur takes a sharp breath in. Merlin braces for a hit only for—

“Oh, you idiot,” Arthur whispers, “do I actually need to tell you I don’t care if you have magic?”

Pause.

Go back.

One more time.

What?

“I don’t care, you idiot,” he says in a tone that is too fond, “I don’t care that you have magic. You have it, you’re still Merlin, I don’t care.”

Rough metal gauntlets cup his face and oh—it’s cold—

“Merlin, look at me.”

“I—I am.”

“No, look.”

He blinks and has to focus on looking at Arthur.

“I’m not mad,” Arthur says firmly, “and I don’t care that you have magic.”

Merlin starts to laugh. Because of course, of course, Arthur doesn’t care. He’s been so stupid. Arthur doesn’t care. Arthur doesn’t care. He’s doubled over before he can stop himself. The laughs keep pouring out of him, his magic rushing back to his fingers, his nose, his chest. He laughs long and loud and hard and then Arthur is murmuring at him again because no, no, he isn’t laughing anymore, he’s crying.

“Come here, you big baby,” Arthur murmurs, tucking him into the gentlest embrace he’s ever had from someone wearing armor, “yes, there you go, that’s it.”

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

Arthur has known Merlin has magic and he doesn’t care.

…wait, does that make Merlin the oblivious one?

Nah, that couldn’t be it.

It’s not like Arthur is hiding anything else from Merlin.

#dragonbabbles #fic #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #arthur pendragon

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isoldmysoultojonahclemence · 3 years

Note

hello! I was wondering if u could make a summary of all the suitors' flaws n how Jonah would react to them

I would be more than happy to!

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Ray: his main flaw is his willingness to trust others that are close to him. That doesn’t really sound like a flaw, but in Seth’s route, even though he knew that there was a spy, he still refused to believe that his one of his friends could’ve betrayed him. That’s super nice of him as a friend, but I feel like Jonah wouldn’t consider it as a good trait for a King.

Sirius: he has the physical inability to express his feelings properly. Like, in his own route, he barely ever said “I love you” to MC, and I feel like he’s trying really hard to fit into the “mature and stoic guy” category. Jonah kinda struggles with the same things (can’t talk about feelings + tries to be cool), but I don’t think he’d appreciate them in someone else.

Luka: he’s unwilling to change his own perceptions. For example, in his own route, one of the big things he struggle with is feeling unimportant because ppl don’t need him. That’s not actually true, bc he’s the Jack of Spades now and an entire territory is depending on him, but he’s so stuck in his own idea of himself that he can’t even see it in another way until MC comes along. He also applies this to Jonah, and strongly believes that Jonah abandoned him when Jonah was training to become Queen. I don’t know if Jonah will understand why Luka acts likes this, but he’s always going to be sad when his beloved little brother detests him.

Fenrir: he’s way too obsessed with fights. Look, I know that his description is “a battle-crazy gun maniac” and he uses magically modified guns and he doesn’t mean any harm by liking to fight bc he’s a super active guy, it’s still kinda unsettling (also bc I can’t actually think of any other character flaws bc Fenrir is a good boi). Jonah would definitely find this behavior untasteful, especially since Fenrir also comes from a good family.

Seth: probably how manipulative he is. In his own route, his mission is to “seduce” MC into joining the Magic Tower (remind you of anyone else???), and he succeeds in making MC fall in love, like, 10 parts in. He also fell in love with MC along the way, but he lured her with his body XDD. Jonah probably disapproves of some of his methods, but he can’t complain too much because he kinda did the same thing.

Lancelot: he’s too self-sacrificing for his own good. I mean, when Amon became a threat, instead of telling everyone else about it, he chooses to shoulder the burden himself. I can understand that he’s trying to spare those that he cares about, but he should know that the others aren’t exactly weak and fragile. Jonah would be super frustrated by this (like in part 23 of his own route), and he’ll try to help his King in whatever way he can.

Edgar: his shadiness oof. Like, at first you think that he can be trusted, and then you think that he can’t, but in the end you find out you actually can. He’s like an inverted oreo: white on the outside, black on the inside, but actually still white deep down inside. Being the honest person he is, Jonah probably struggled with Edgar’s personality at first. But they’ve known each other since they were children so Jonah probably got used to it over time.

Zero: you know what? After mulling over this for ages, I can’t actually think of any of Zero’s flaws. He’s literally the goodest boi in Ikerev.

Kyle: his insensitivity to others’ emotions. He cannot read the atmosphere most times and he’s also one of the most emotionally clumsy people in the game (afsdfdf he’s adorable). However, Jonah is the type of person who needs to be handled with care, since he’s not the most emotionally able person ever. It would’ve definitely rubbed Jonah the wrong way at first, but just like how it was with Edgar, Jonah probably got used to it over time.

Harr: his unfrienliness probably. He’s literally the nicest person once you get to know him, but the emphasis is on once you get to know him. Unfortunately, not a lot of people have that privilege, and this is even before he became the infamous Joker. He’s just naturally introverted and aloof. Actually, pre-Joker!Harr reminded me of Jonah, because they’re equally tsundere and bad with expressing their feelings. Apparently Harr and Jonah didn’t get along great tho, so maybe Jonah doesn’t like to see his own personality reflected in others.

Loki: he’s a bit too clingy and has a tiny bit of yandere-ish tendencies (though I wouldn’t consider him as a yandere). Jonah would understand the clinginess to those he cares about (he’s the cling of hearts for a reason guys), and he could probably understand Loki’s desire to hold on tightly to people that are important to him.

Blanc: he’s a jerk because he’s only giving us glimpses of his backstory without any clarification and it makes me want to tear my hair out. Jonah is gonna march up to Cybird HQ and demand a route for Blanc.

Oliver: in Ikerev TW, one of his descriptions was “毒舌” and it literally means “poisonous tongue,” which describes Oliver pretty well. I get that some people are pretty attracted by his quick wit, but generally speaking, insulting someone every other sentence isn’t exactly a good habit to have. But like, just imagine Oliver and Jonah getting into an argument. Idek who’s gonna win.

NOTE: I don't really know that much about the next three suitors (Mousse, Dean, and Dalim), so I'll have to make my best guess about their flaws. If their route comes out (goodness knows when that'll be), I'll come back and see if I've got anything wrong!

Mousse: definitely his sleepiness and tendency to fall asleep in places other than his bedroom. I totally understand the desire to sleep all day every day, but I can see why it’d be super annoying. At any rate, Jonah certainly seems to think so, since he abhors laziness and Mousse is pretty much the epitome of laziness (unless it comes down to the things that he like, and then he turns super energetic).

Dean: his cruel and unusual ways of punishment that’s referenced many times throughout the series??? I don’t know much about him tbh (sorry to all the Dean stans!!!). Jonah has never complained about it (or even mentioned Dean at all), but he must’ve been Jonah’s teacher during some point in the Ikerev universe, especially considering that Jonah and Harr were in the same grade and Dean makes an appearance in Harr’s Class Companions event route.

Dalim: probably that he’s overly-dedicated to those he’s loyal to. Dalim knows that Amon is not a good person and what he’s doing is very wrong, but he still does Amon’s bidding because he is a firm believer in Amon supremacy. However, he has tried to save Cradle on multiple occasions, so I guess that makes up for it. In fact, I think that Jonah would actually appreciate this flaw, because he’s just as dedicated to Lancelot as Dalim is to Amon, and they both tried to intervene when they believed that their King/Lord was up to something bad.

THIS FOLLOWING PART IS FROM @theboredhawk!!!

You could also say that one of Dean's more obvious flaws is that he's very blunt. While he's a smooth talker when it's convenient for him, more often than not he doesn't sugar coat his words when he's pointing out other people's flaws.He says it like it is. This might lead to Jonah being offended on more than one occasion. On the other hand, i don't think Jonah likes Dalim's debauchery. He might think that he fools around too much. He might've chastised him at some point, but gave up when he saw that he wasn't listening. Dalim is hard to tame. There were a few times when he didn't listen to Amon's orders and he also did that thing at the end of Ray's ttlg route which proved that he's not as loyal to his lord as he seems.

BONUS:

Jonah: Jonah literally stated himself that he knows how reckless and stubborn he is, but he doesn’t have any intentions of changing that. And I just. That’s actually such a strong thing to do??? He legit accepts himself as he is without trying to change anything about the way he is. Self-acceptance level 10/10.

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ad1thi · 3 years

Text

underrated stevetony fics rec list (P1)

i feel like a lot of really good stevetony fics get swept under the rug because this is such a big fandom and sometimes people miss out on quality content?? so this is a rec list of some of the stevetony fics i feel like everybody should have read/ be reading

Edit (31.12.2020): this got very long (i had almost 50 fics on my list, so ive decided to split this list into two parts. part 2 will be out soon!!)

Edit (20.02.2021): part 2 is out now!!

picture me in the trees: @ifmywishescametrue

Tony and Steve were childhood friends that almost became more, but Tony moved and they lost their chance. Thirteen years later, a chance meeting brings Tony back into Steve's life.

Free: @iwanttopizzamanyou

"Steve reads, and the words dance in front of his eyes, because while this used to be his dream, what he wanted, all he can think about is how this Hell will soon become his full time life."

Steve discovers fame, with fans waiting for him in the lobby and girls passing him their numbers after the shows. It used to be what he wanted, he supposes. Except his future managers keep asking more and more from him, and he's not sure his old life will survive. Tony is ready to help, and compromise, but Steve maybe isn't anymore.

making it work: @/ironarm

“Just tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” Clint replies, finishing the end of his burger and starting to crumple up the wrapper, “It’s not like you love him or anything.”

“Clint, if I thought I could get rid of him about a week ago, I would have. But for some fucked up reason, I can’t lie to him. It’s like, I see those baby blue eyes, and bam. Whatever barrier that I built up from childhood trauma is gone.”

Clint chokes on the last piece of his burger, almost resisting the urge to smack Tony on the side of his head.

Tony was a fucking idiot.

Boys Like Us: @naferty

The video had been a mistake. One of the biggest mistakes he had ever done in his life, and considering Tony Stark had done a bunch of shit in his younger years, and even older years, that was saying something.

It was just that none of those things were as embarrassing as that video.

He blamed Clint for everything

Stained Fingertips: @thesoundofnat

“I don’t really believe in magic,” he said, clearing his throat. “But I’m almost certain you’re a goddamn wizard, Steve Rogers.”

Steve would remember those words for the rest of his life.

(Or, Steve is maybe slightly obsessed with drawing Tony. Not that Tony minds.)

Inhale, Ex-Sail: @summerpipedream

"Rich pirates decked out in top-of-the-line black market gear,” grumbled Tony, ”why don’t I have the budget to make those again?’

Rhodey inched back so that he and Tony were back-to-back. “We’re apparently law abiding citizens now, which means having to pay taxes.”

Tony scowled. “Urg, right. Remind me why I wanted to do that again?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “What was it you called him last time? Your sweet tart? Your apple pie in the sky? The wind beneath your wings? Hopefully he’ll fly here fast enough so we don’t get killed. Or worse, mugged.”

Tony Stark Bingo K1 - AU: Steampunk

As Constant As A Star: @atsadi

The Swan Princess AU

As young children, Prince Anthony and Princess Natasha of neighboring Midgardian kingdoms are betrothed, and spend their summers together every year until they are wed. Tony adores his headstrong friend Nat: it’s her scowly little companion Steve he’s not thrilled about at first. But soon Steve goes from being a thorn in Tony’s side to being his dearest friend – and much, much more than that. Despite Steve feeling the same way about Tony, the pair still dance around each other for years as Steve struggles to accept his feelings for another man: especially one already betrothed to another. Not to mention that Tony is a prince, and Steve is nothing but a squire.

But before they can make peace, Tony is kidnapped and dragged into the beginnings of another conflict in the nearby magical kingdom of Asgard – he really hates magic. With his potential usefulness diminishing by the day, Tony races to escape even as Steve, Natasha, and their friends race to find him and bring him home.

And—just to make matters worse—Tony has been trapped by a powerful spell and turned into a swan, of all creatures. He really, really hates magic.

Always Yours: @hollyjollyhope

Getting kidnapped is normal for them, at this point. But there's nothing normal about this.

And suddenly, Tony has a choice to make.

Oxeye Daisy (patience): @s-horne

“You make me want things I can’t have.”

Steve startled at the voice from behind him and turned around to see Tony standing in the kitchen doorway. He stared straight at Tony for a long moment. The room was quiet, time stretching out in a thick and uncomfortable silence as neither man dare to move nor opened his mouth to speak first.

White Clover (a promise): @s-horne

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Tony lifted his head as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice. When he managed to open his eyes and blink a bit of the blurriness away, he was rewarded with a gentle smile being shone down at him.

“There you are,” Steve said. “Was worried I was going to have to talk to myself.”

Though his tone was light, Tony knew what he meant. It was no secret that Tony was physically weaker and a hell of a lot more human than Steve was and was therefore struggling more with the lack of regular nourishment that came with being held hostage.

“Course not,” Tony said back, voice hoarse but plastering a smile on his face all the same. His head was pounding and his eyes couldn't stay open. “Would I ever do that to you? You’d never get a sensible answer.”

Acta non verba: @firebrands

unapologetic fluff about two idiots who can barely keep it together with how hard they're crushing on each other

or:

tony has to help steve with math + a halloween party = a good time for everyone, eventually

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

Adjacent, Against, Upon: @firebrands

A political AU!

Steve Rogers is running as the Mayor of somewhere, America. Tony Stark, his campaign manager, deals with a candidate who isn’t interested in lying, and just wants to do good by these citizens, god damn it.

song of unrest: @omg-just-peachy

How was Steve supposed to reconcile all of this? The way he looked so different but still felt so much the same? It made Steve’s head spin. He knows he shouldn’t care so much, that he is what he is, but he just wants to know.

Paint The Town Blue: @omg-just-peachy

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.

Camelot: @weethreequarter

For one shining moment, there was Camelot.

In 2019, Karen Page meets Captain Steve Rogers to conduct an exclusive interview on his late husband, President Tony Stark.

In 2007, Steve meets Senator Tony Stark and falls in love.

he thinks he’s lancelot (but he’s more of a sir lamorak): @theotherwasdeath

Tony knows firsthand that violence isn’t funny. So why oh why does he think that the scene playing out in front of him, Steve and Victor Von Doom in a knock-out, drag-down fist fight, is absolutely hilarious?

wildflowers: @tinytonysnark

“So,” Steve begins, clapping his hands together, “the city of SHIELD is in debt. The big ups have sent for financial advisors, all the way from DC! They’re gonna take a look at the city’s spending and make some cuts.”

He squints at the camera against the morning sun shining through the courtyard, “I’m not that worried. Everyone here in the parks department is an important member of the team and absolutely needed.”

The camera swings towards the office where from the large glass window, Natasha can be seen picking up the ringing phone before immediately slamming it back down onto the receiver.

[A Parks and Rec AU]

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

#adi's rec list #stevetony #superhusbands #steve rogers x tony stark #steve rogers/tony stark #steve x tony #steve/tony #underrated stevetony fics #this is part 1 of this rec list #part two will be out soon!!#im planning on doing this for other ships!!#so let me know if there's any ships you wanna see this for

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kob131 · 3 years

Text

Morgan Le Fay (Alter Ego) My Room Lines

Morgause

“Master~ Can we stay here please? A moment’s rest may bring you far after all!”

“Ah, you really like to work don’t you? No no, I’m not accusing you of anything. I know your drive after all...”

“No matter what, it doesn’t seem I’ll get use to fighting. I wonder if either of those two would-ah. nevermind!”

Bond 1 “...Oh, sorry Master! I was spacing out there for a moment. I’m...not really use to being...heh, nevermind me!”

Bond 2 “Your magecraft seems a little shaky lately. Are you sure you’re feeling well? You eating well? Maybe a nice plate of meat and potatoes will make you feel better? ...Wh-what do you mean that’s too heavy?!”

Bond 3 “How strange. I’m still here. Usually I can’t remember where I’ve been or how I got where I am because...because...

...Well anyway, I can’t say it’s bad after all. I’d certainly be worried if one moment I was here with you and the next you left my sight. That-that can get rather scary...”

Bond 4 “... ... ... I can still feel them inside me, you know? ‘The Lady of The Lake’ and ‘The Fairy Witch’. My...other selves.

... Why? Why? WHY? Why do they have to exist? Why are they inside me? It’s not fair! I lost so much to them! So much of my life- Take, STOLEN from me by them! And even worst, they took my home away! I’m Morgause Pendragon, the daughter of Uther Pendragon! I am human! Not a fae! Not a witch! I. Am. HUMAN, ME!

So why can’t they just leave me alone?!”

Bond 5 “... I won’t be here for long. Even if this body were to see the end of your journey, I-I might not be the one in it. I was the first to fade away after all. It’s simply my fate...to be used and discarded by everything I love.

...Even so, I won’t run. As weak as I maybe in comparison to them...I won’t surrender a second of my time with you. With anyone. I’m here now. I am me.”

To Gawain “My son...my darling son. P-please don’t turn away! Please. I-I lost so much time with you. I can’t-I have to. Please, come embrace your mother. Before I’m gone.”

To Gareth “Gareth...my little pup. Look at you, you’ve grown up so much. I bet you had the lords at your beck and call. ... I wish I could have been there for you.”

To Agravain “Oh Agravain. It hurts to see you look at me so. And yet, it’s all my fault. If only I were stronger, if only I could overcome them. My little knight...I’m sorry.”

To Arturia “Arthur-no, Arturia isn’t it? To think I felt so bitter about what our father wanted...when there was so much to lose to that envy. I...I shall take my leave.”

To Mordred “Master, that knight over there?? That...wouldn’t happen to be Sir Mordred correct? ... Yes I assumed so, given her glares at me. Le Fay’s child with my own brother...There’s nothing I can do to help her, is there?”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “You there, the witch. You have quite the nerve to show your face here. You, who abandoned her humanity for the sake of a kingdom. Your kingdom was a shame and deserved it’s fate. Glare at me all you wish, without the three of us you would be nothing.”

Likes “What do I like? Well, I always liked cooking. It was always such a treat to see my children’s faces light up when I cooked with all my heart!”

Dislikes “...Lake fae and evil witches.”

Holy Grail “Even if it is a heresy, I would like to wish upon it. Then maybe, I can finally be free.”

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Vivian

“Master, come. We have much to do still. ...I know you must be tired, I understand your weariness. But still, we must persist.”

“There’s no need to worry about me. An adventure like this-it is a simple matter. Compared to guiding those troublesome fae...”

“Quiet, quiet, quiet. ...Sorry Master, I was...having some difficulties with...the others. Le Fay especially...”

Bond 1 “So, you have stayed by my side? How strange, most humans simply leave the lakeside after so long.”

Bond 2 “Your heart is weary. There is no point in lying. I know that feeling well myself. Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard. Come, rest. All need reprieve after all.”

Bond 3 “It seems my time has not come yet. Good. I cannot-I will not fade like before. I refuse to let things end like before.”

Bond 4 “It is so tiring. To have their thoughts, their minds inside me. Always, always a reminder. That I am more than the fae ‘Vivian’. The human princess and the raging witch-

...No. No. NO! I am here now! I will be the one to fight! I will be the one to guard the Human Order! I will be the one protect the Age of Man that Father wished for! Not the human Morgause! Not the witch Le Fay!

I am Me, Vivian, The Lady of the Lake!”

Bond 5 “Even though I am the fae Vivian, an existence incompatible with mankind. It was always the humans I loved most of all. The fae, so fickle and cruel. I guided and guarded them out of duty alone.

Why you may ask? Because it was mankind that my father Uther loved. He protected them to his last breath. And so shall I. Even if I may never see the Age of Man, I will protect and guide it. Especially you, my Master. I shall ensure your safety to death and beyond.”

To Lancelot (Berserker) “Master! Th-that figure cloaked in black! I-it can’t be! My son! This is what became of you? ... Who did this?”

To Lancelot (Saber) “I knew it. Of course my son would be here. There was no chance he wouldn’t answer the call to protect mankind. He grew into a splendid knight after all.”

To Mash “This feeling... You there, young lady with the shield. Come forward, let me take a good look. ...It really is, isn’t it? Don’t be scared young lady. I shall never hurt you. Now, come with me. I have much to discuss with you.”

To Fae Servants “*Sigh* It seems there are some troublemakers in this place isn’t there? Worry not Master, I know how to keep them on a tight leash.”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ruler of the fae, huh? How pathetic. To have resorted to such evil. I do not care what your excuses are. I lead and guarded the fae myself. I sacrificed my place in the world. I expect no less of you.”

To Arturia (Archer) “How cute, thinking that little spruit is alike to my magic. Here, let me show you what a true Excalibur Vivian can accomplish.”

Likes “Besides mankind? ...I do enjoy watching the forest creatures prance about. The little bugs especially.”

Dislike “Lazy princesses and malevolent witches. That is all I’ll say.”

Holy Grail “It is a false wish granting device isn’t it? Still, if supplied with enough mana, it might just be enough to grant my wish To gain my freedom.”

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Morgan Le Fay

“Careful now, Master. One wrong step and things will certainly go wrong. I know how much fun it is to lose yourself in the throes of battle. Hehehe...But your goal must come first.”

“That fire...that determination. Very well, I’ll join you in the fray. After all, I haven’t nearly indulged enough myself.”

“Your magecraft is rather lackluster isn’t it? Hm, whatever you call your ‘talents’, that doesn’t matter. Practice, practice, practice. Experience breeds excellence. I didn’t match Merlin with pure talent after all.”

Bond 1 “I must say, staying this way at will without being subject to the fickle whims fate...it’s rather nice. Thanks Master.”

Bond 2 “Fate is cruel. I know your pain better than most. Forced into the impossible by the will of others. But don’t let your heart waver. Through will and guile, you will gain your freedom.”

Bond 3 “Don’t hesitate to give me tasks. I find myself with more time than i know what to do with. Preferably with you around...”

Bond 4 “I’m sure you’ve heard about this before but...My other selves are still here. Deep inside, I can still here them. Their woes, their uncertainty, their hatred. All mine...

...Bwahaha! What a joke! As if I would let them trend upon me. It was my loathing that struck fear into Camelot. It was my malice that twisted the Green Knight. It was my love for Britian that allowed me to stomach sharing a bed with that liar. I am no feeble princess or passive fae. I am me, Morgan, the witch that loved Britian!”

Bond 5 “So here we stand still. I’m sure you caught on but I hate the Age of Man. Tearing away all the work I put out, fading everything I’ve done into legend. Acting as though I was never here. For it’s sins, I will always spur it.

So why am I here? Because I would rather have an Age of Man with Britian than not. Be it the destruction of history or man, I will not stand for it. I will rage and hate and burn until all is done. So long as we stand on the same ground, I will be here. I can’t trust the other two to get the job done after all.”

To Mordred “Hm, that defect of a homonculus is here? Master, you are best off sending it away. It’s incapable of following orders or performing tasks sufficiently. I would love to fix it but that’s beyond my reach.”

To Arturia (Alter) “Tch, that liar dares to attach my name to something so weak. She preaches that the strong rule over the weak, shall I teach her who is truly strong then? Gwahaha!”

To Merlin “Ah, Teacher is here too. How unusual, that fickle asshole couldn’t be asked to cut a blade of grass, let alone save humanity. He’s not even really here is he?”

To Fairy Knight Tristan “Master, this annoying brat won’t leave me alone. Acting all familiar and friendly with me... Maybe I’ll teach her what it means to truly be sadistic. Perhaps by rending her limbs asunder...”

To Arturia “So the King of Liars has come as well. Maybe a trip into Hell will teach her the place where she belongs...but that will have to wait, won’t it? She still has her uses after all...”

To Oberon-Vortigern “That mana. Another embodiment of Britian is here?! It feels like that failure Vortigern...yet...it’s so different. I must dissect him, to know!”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ah yes, that other me. Heh, what a fool she turned out to be, no? She rages against man, fae and knights, wasting all her efforts in the process. Focus, my dear. Focus is the key to victory. I did not waste my time with man or fae, I put my all into the slaying of Arturia. And which of us succeeded, hm?”

Likes “A rough night with a man below me, of course.”

Dislikes “My other selves. Unlike them, I will not hide the truth.”

Holy Grail “Hm, I have no need for such a thing. Unlike them, I will not cling to a false hope. It will be my hand that cuts them out like the parasites they are.”

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Bond 10 CE: I Am...?

One minute *I’m* home with my children One minute ^I’m^ guarding those troublesome fae One minute -I’m- cackling as I tear into his flesh

The next I’m not.

It is my duty to *lead*/^guard^/-destroy- my kin No, That is *my*/^my^/-my- duty. No, it’s *mine*/^mine^/-mine-!

...Is it?

No, I am a *princess*/^guardian^/-witch-! That is not what *I*/^I^/-I- am! Stop it! This is who *I*/^I^/-I- am!

I am *me*/^me^/-me-! I am *Me*/^Me^/-Me-! I AM *ME*/^ME^/-ME-!

I am... I...am... I...

....Who am I?

#fate series #fate grand order

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teamxdark · 3 years

Text

Arthurlot Among Us AU before I forget.

Warnings for death, death, and more death.

So it started out as a conversation with one of my friends about how, despite adding a mini crewmate to my Among Us avatar and naming him Galahad, I still get killed a lot and that leaves little Galahad an orphan. Then the conversation turned to a picture another friend drew of Lancelot and Galahad as Among Us bean people.

So naturally, we begin talking about Lancelot being in the Skeld with Galahad accompanying him.

It's cute. It's sweet. Lance does his tasks and Galahad floats around and watches. At one point Lance lifts up his son so he can do wires. Galahad is having a good time and Lance enjoys seeing his son so happy to help out.

And then they find Arthur's body.

And Lance goes ballistic.

He runs around, missing clues and completely in shambles, and Galahad is terrified because he just saw a body and his father is going mental. Lancelot slams the button to call an emergency meeting and he screams "WHO DID IT? WHO KILLED HIM?"

After that Lance is pretty torn up. He's not doing his tasks, he's just meandering around the ship, drowning in grief and regret because he failed as a knight and as a friend. Arthur is dead.

Arthur is dead and he's never coming back.

Galahad is the one trying to be careful, looking around corners and making sure everything is safe. Sometimes he'll stop his father and do a task for him, to the best of his ability.

There's a few ways this can end. Either all tasks are completed, or Lancelot dies (which leaves Galahad behind) or Galahad dies and Lancelot has lost everything on that ship.

"Smash," you might demand, "why was this necessary?"

Well you see... It gets worse!

After that, I wondered... What if this is a Groundhog Day type of situation? What if Arthur and Lance are stuck in a loop, unable to break out until both of them survive a game?

And what if the roles are randomised every time?

Arthur gets impostor. He can't bear to tell Lance, nor to kill him. Even when he and the second impostor are in a perfect double-kill situation, and in order to keep their identities safe, killing Lance would be necessary, Arthur just can't do it.

He has to sell out his teammate and Lance sticks to him like glue after witnessing a killing so close by. It's very hard to be impostor when your right hand man won't leave you alone.

Arthur: Lance, I love you, but god damn--

Lance: YOU LOVE ME?!

(Lancelot dies of shock.)

There's a few ways this one can go. Lancelot never discovers that Arthur is the impostor is one way, and maybe Lancelot is voted out because he's never seen doing his tasks. Maybe a sabotage attempt on Arthur's part leads to everyone dying. Maybe Lancelot sees Arthur murder and it breaks him but he still can't reveal him to the others and chooses death instead.

Lancelot dies and they have to restart.

And then it got even worse with the question of: What if they never remembered that they were in a loop until they died?

Then there's times when Lancelot and Arthur are both impostors. Lance decides to follow Arthur, as he does, but as soon as Arthur commits his first kill, Lancelot's views on him are shaken. Perhaps Lancelot (wrongly) believed that they could win by letting the crewmates win, and his confidence and trust in Arthur are shattered into pieces.

It becomes too much. Lancelot places the guilt on himself because he can't stand what he and Arthur have done. He's sent out via the airlock and as the air thins and everything starts to go dark, he remembers. He remembers the endless game and how they need to stop it.

He realises far too late that he made the wrong decision and that he should have followed Arthur as he always has.

On rounds where Lancelot is the impostor and Arthur is a crewmate, Lancelot gives himself up immediately, resolute in not causing any bloodshed and cutting off the problem at the source: himself.

Every time he's shot out, Arthur holds on to a sobbing Galahad and can only ask 'why?' And every time, Lancelot remembers too late as to the looping nature of this game and what he's supposed to do to stop it.

There's rounds where Arthur is the impostor and his teammate kills Lancelot in front of him. Arthur watches the life drain from his dear friend's eyes and feels utter shock and rage. He knows he can't kill his teammate; impostors can't kill fellow impostors.

He can still get them voted out, and that's exactly what he does to avenge Lancelot.

Sometimes they both die in a sabotage: reaching out to each other as O2 runs out... Running into an ambush at electrical... Not stopping the reactor in time and dying in the meltdown...

Over and over and over again, until if and when they both survive and at least one of them wins this game...

#Smash speaks.#Arthurlot.#Among Us AU.#This AU had multiple people crave my blood.#Have fun!

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vikingqueer · 3 years

Text

music recommendations because i have some thoughts™

i don't wanna be that person who's like "my music taste is so weird lol" but i find that very often most of my friends don't really care for the music i like so i thought i'd just make a long ass post about it on tumblr instead. Fair warning, I'm very passionate about MIKA and The Mechanisms and so this very quickly got VERY long because it is part of my ongoing campaign to convince people to listen to mika and the mechs.

1) MIKA in general, but especially My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019) and No Place In Heaven (2015) (especially the Deluxe version!!)

MIKA is a kind of British singer (half Lebanese, grew up in France blabla), and you probably know him for Grace Kelly and Relax, Take It Easy from his first album Life In Cartoon Motion from 2007. He writes a lot of FUN music, interspersed with the occasional slightly sadder song, especially when looking at an album like No Place In Heaven, which contains a lot of songs with gay themes, resulting in some songs that are just a little bit ouch. He's originally classically trained and has a frankly RIDICULOUS range and idk he just writes very good pop music. Also I have so much respect for that time he talked about how a lot of pop is very fake, with like expensive cars and stilettos and mini skirts in the snow and said "Because I walk down the street, and I don't see any of that. I see fat women and gay men. I don't know... That's real". He's written 5 albums; My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019), No Place In Heaven (2015), The Origin Of Love (2012), The Boy Who Knew Too Much (2009), and Life In Cartoon Motion (2007).

For starters, I recommend listening to Last Party, Origin Of Love, Grace Kelly, Blame It On The Girls, Blue, Happy Ending, Pick Up Off The Floor, Last Party, Underwater, Tomorrow and Tiny Love (yes this is a long list but i REALLY love MIKA). If you want a slightly broader palette that's not just my favourites, I recommend the Mika starter pack on spotify.

2) The Mechanisms. I warn you. I am making this a thing. I have been obsessed with the mechs since last march.

Boy, where to start? The Mechanisms were a British 9 member space pirate story-telling cabaret that "died" in January 2020. They rewrite songs to fit retellings of various stories. I don't even know what genre I'd describe them as, but probably folk but steam-punk?? Their 4 "main" albums are concept albums, and I honestly just recommend listening to the from beginning to end in chronological order. A good way to get into the mechs is also to listen to UDAD and then watching the live show on youtube or alternately try giving Death To The Mechanisms a listen, to get good quality live show audio of TBI and various other stuff. Also, it was streamed on YouTube and someone combined the footage with the album audio and it rocks. Really, I think the mechs' best selling points are honestly just their concept albums:

Once Upon a Time (In Space) Their first album from 2012. I'd say this is the most "easily digestible" for the general public, since it's a retelling of various fairytales. So, what if Old King Cole was in fact not merry, but rather a cold-blooded dictator, intent on colonising as much of the galaxy as possible. What if Snow White was a general, looking to avenge what King Cole did to her sister, Rose. What if Cinderella was to be wedded to Rose the day that King Cole attacked in order to kidnap Rose? But y'know, In Space and also like every other mechs album it's a beautiful tragedy. Fave songs are Old King Cole, Pump Shanty, and No Happy Ending.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn You guessed it, it's a story about Odysseus, or Ulysses because I guess Ulysses is easier to rhyme or fit in the meter or something, idk. Ulysses is a war hero of unknown gender who is said to keep something that could take down the corrupt Olympians, meanest families in the City, in a vault to which only they know the passcode. Oedipus, Heracles, Orpheus, and Ariadne have been hired by Hades, who happens to be The Mechs' quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, to get into Ulysses' vault. I didn't care much for udad at first, but honestly it's got some real bangers and the story is really good. UDAD weirdly stands out as the only of the concept albums to not feature any gay relationships, per se. Fave songs are Riddle of the Sphinx, Favoured Son, and Underworld Blues.

High Noon over Camelot This is my favourite mehcs album. So basically, this is Arthurian legend, but it's a space western and Jonny D'Ville does a bad southern accent. This is the story of the cowboy lovers Arther, Lancelot, and Guinevere searching for the Galfridian Restricted Acces Interface Login, or GRAIL, in order to stop their world from falling into the sun. Meanwhile, Mordred and Gawaine are ruling Camelot, and Mordred has convinced Gawaine to try to establish peace with the Saxons by whom Mordred was raised, but Gawaine hates viciously. If you love getting your heart broken and songs by a fucking off the rails batshit preacher I HIGHLY recommend hnoc. Fave songs are Gunfight at the Dolorous Guard, Blood and Whiskey, and Once and Future King. Honorary mention for Hellfire because it awakens something animalistic in me.

The Bifrost Incident TBI is the frankly only good adaptation of norse mythology I've ever known of, and I say that as Dane who was literally forced to learn things about norse mythology in school because it's my heritage or whatever. I've been listening to TBI a lot lately because it's VERY good. It's definitely the most refined of the mechs' albums (because it's the newest) but also I just love a little bit of cosmic horror. 80 years ago, Odin, the All-Mother, ruler of Asgaard, launched a train through the wormhole Bifrost that would reduce the travel between Asgaard and Midgaard from 3 months to 3 days, but things didn't go quite as planned. Lyfrassir Edda of the New Midgaard Transport Police is trying to solve the case of why suddenly the train has arrived 80 years late; to figure out whether it was accident or maybe it was sabotaged by Loki, who was allegedly sentence to death her murder of Baldur, by the Midgaardian resistance led by Loki's wife Sigyn, or maybe by Thor, who was to take over after Odin, and who holds quite the grudge because he used to be a friend of Loki's. You might've heard the song Thor from this album, it's apparently quite popular. Fave songs are Loki, Ragnarok III: Strange Meeting, and Ragnarok V: End of The Line. Yet again an honorary mention: Red Signal because while Lovecraft was a bitch, his invocations are fucking RAW.

Basically, the Mechanisms do all of their performances in character as captain first mate Jonny D'Ville, quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, pilot DrumBot Brian, master-at-arms Gunpowder Tim, science officer Raphaella la Cognizi, doctor Baron Marius Von Raum (neither a baron, nor a doctor), archivist Ivy Alexandria, engineer Nastya Rasputina, and The Toy Soldier, who is, as usual, present. You can find very obscure lore about the crew of the Aurora here, tidbits on Tales To Be Told and TTBT Vol. 2, such as One Eyed Jacks, The Ignominious Demise of Dr. Pilchard, Gunpowder Tim vs. The Moon Kaiser, Lucky Sevens, and Lost in the Cosmos.

If you feel like listening to a full 40-50 minute album to find out if you like a band is a bit much, I recommend listening to one of the mini stories Alice, Swan Song, or Frankenstein, which are about 12, 5 and 9:30 minutes respectively.

3) The Amazing Devil You know that guy who played Jaskier in the Witcher? I got into The Amazing Devil from spotify recommending them because I listened to the mechs, and apparently Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil is the same Joey Batey who was in the Witcher. Both him and Madeleine Hyland are VERY talented singers and songwriters and their second album The Horror and the Wild makes me go out into the forest and SCREAM. I listened to it on repeat for like a month straight. I guess they'd also be considered folk, but like. New Folk. Also yes, this is another British artist, I don't know why I'm like this. I've never really gotten that into their first album, Love Run, but King slaps. As I understand there's this whole lore about the Blue Furious Boy and Scarlet Scarlet, Joey and Madeleine respectively, but unlike the Mechanisms it's actually possible to find out things about the actual real people and harder to find the obscure lore? I'm open for people to please help me. Fave songs are The Horror and the Wild, Farewell Wanderlust, and That Unwanted Animal, which is literally a third of their second album, but again. I haven't really listened to Love Run that much, and I just LOVE the harmonies on THATW. (also im gay and dramatic leave me alone)

4) dodie I have so much love for this woman. Like many others, I first knew dodie as doddleoddle on youtube. I think I first stumbled across her in probably 2015, because I distinctly already knew her before she released her first EP Sick of Losing Soulmates in 2016. I think I watched probably every video she's ever made in the span of a few weeks. I just loved her quiet sound and was absolutely HOOKED. Also she's actually the reason I got into MIKA originally, so thanks for that. Dodie just realeased her first album Build A Problem (in addition to her three EP's; the one mentioned above, You, and Human) and it slaps. Yes dodie is also British Fave songs are probably Monster, Rainbow, and In The Middle.

5) Cladia Boleyn Unfortunately, Claudia Boleyn only has three singles and that's it. She's been making content on youtube for quite a while, and that's how I first discovered her. I don't know what genre her music is, but I like it. The songs are Celesta, George, and Mother Maiden Crone, of which the latter is my favourite. I'm not saying Claudia Boleyn invented women in 2017 when she released Mother Maiden Crone, but she did. Also you guessed it, Claudia Boleyn is British.

6) Hozier I'm not about to tell you about Hozier. You know who he is. Listen to Nina Cried Power, Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene, and Shrike. Also Hozier isn't stricly British in that he is definitely from A British Isle, but Ireland is not part of the UK. Give me a break.

7) Oh Land Oh Land IS DANISH. I like her early music best, because I'm not that into the electronic sound. I guess Oh Land is just you regular old pop, but with the occasional weird vibe? Oddly enough, I like her first album Fauna best. Unfortunately I haven't really listened to her newest album Family Tree much, but it seems good? Fave songs are Frostbite, Love You Better and Family Tree. I cried on the bus, first time I listened to the Danish version of Love You Better, Elsker Dig Mer because my mother tongue always just hits harder. Also Frostbite is Oh Land doing a duet with herself which is pretty cool.

8) Oysterband This is a live recommendation. I mean they're a decent folk band and all, but they're a fucking experience live. If you like folk and you ever get the opportunity to see Oysterband live, do it. Unfortunately, yes. They are British. Either way, they are incredible on a scene and I think they deserve a mention for that.

9) Ben Platt Honestly don't know much about this guy, but he's not British and he was in Dear Evan Hansen. He released an album in 2019, Sing To Me Instead, and I just think it's a good album, there isn't really not much more to it. Fave songs are Grow As We Go, Bad Habit, and In Case You Don't Live Forever.

and thats all for now. this has been a ramble. shout out to you if you actually read all of this, especially the mechs part.

#music stuff #amalie.txt #music recommendations #mika #the mechanisms #the amazing devil #dodie #claudia boleyn #hozier #oh land #oysterband #ben platt

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chaosangel767 · 3 years

Text

Pyrrhic - Angst

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Prompt: Pyrrhic - A victory won at to great of a cost

Tw: Major Character deaths, Angst

Word Count:1735

The air is bitter and cold matching the mood of the group of people gathered in front of the Civic Center. A large cloth is draped over a monument and the clouds are heavy. No one in the crowd is smiling, and while there are hundreds of people in the crowd, there is no cheerful sound, just hushed whispers. Three men mount the stage next to the cloth. The two Kings of Cradle and the record keeper, all dressed in formal wear. The little noise of the crowd dies away as the Record keeper starts to speak into the crystal mic.

“Citizens of Cradle, today marks the day one year ago that 75 people gave their lives to protect Cradle from the shadows and ended the 500 years of fighting and bloodshed.” Blanc starts to open the ceremony, his voice solemn as he begins to speak, the two Kings on either side of him had lowered heads, grief from the day one year ago still fresh in their minds.

“Today we remember these brave souls who risked everything they had to make sure that Cradle continued on. Today we remember Zero the Ace of Hearts, Fenrir Godspeed the Ace of Spades, Seth Hyde the 10 of Spades, Loki Genetta the Cheshire Cat, Alice the second…” There isn’t another sound in all of Cradle as Blanc rattles off the names of the 75 people that died, everyone’s head is bowed, the first row of the crowd is dedicated to the officers who fought, the deaths still fresh in their minds.

The record Keeper stood in front of Cradle with an even voice and a calm demeanor, but he can still see the bloody aftermath the central quarter was in after the fight. The tower had figured out the plan at the last moment, and ambushed the unexpecting armies, a huge explosion went off injuring many of the citizens of Cradle and destroying a lot of the Central Quarter, Cradle’s famous inventor was still recovering. Blanc looks into the crowd where Oliver Knight was sitting, his face was scarred with the aftermath of the explosion and his arm had finally been released from its cast after months of trying to heal it.

Blanc looks over to where the King of Spades is standing, glancing down at the floor of the stage, pain and grief evident on his face. The image of a second explosion in the Forbidden forest fresh in his mind, Ray watches helplessly as Alice jumps in front of the armies with her kind smile and not an ounce of fear in her face. She managed to cast enough of a barrier over most of Cradle, negating the magic explosion and casting out the innate magic users in Cradle, saving their lives. The grieving King finally looks up, his gaze landing where his best friend and partner in crime would have sat, the vacant seat tears a hole in his heart. He looks down at his clasped hands, still seeing the blood that drenched his uniform. It should have been me. He quietly thought, remembering seeing the pain his best friend was in after taking the hit for his King. “Cradle needs you boss, it's not your time” Fenrir’s choked words and faint smile seared in the back of Ray’s head, his heart heavy as he remembered the fading magenta eyes. It wasn’t your time either buddy. You should be here causing chaos, it's hard to run Cradle without you.

Ray shifts his gaze to his right, eyeing the second King of Cradle, the King of Hearts, who is standing tall, not a hint of emotion on his face, but under the cold mask there swirled a turbulence of regret, grief and anger. He gazes steadily across the crowd, thinking how only a few officers know the full scale of the war. The civilians only know that there was a group of terrorists and criminals who launched an attack on Cradle and that both armies and the sweet, caring Alice helped fight off the criminals, no one knew that the criminals were in fact the Magic tower, that is the secret the Army must bear alone. He should have been more careful and maybe the magic tower wouldn't have found out what was going on. He remembers the cruel smirk on Amon’s face as he made Lancelot watch the explosion from the tower, the way the smoke rose from the central quarter. Lancelot looks down at his hands, burns and scars covering his hands from where he lost control of his rage and collapsed the tower, taking the mad leader and disciples with him.

Lancelot’s eyes drift from surveying the crowd to landing on his forever injured, but Faithful Queen. Jonah sat straight and proper as ever, not letting an ounce of shame fill him. The brave Queen had managed to find Lancelot and covered him from the explosion, costing him his legs, but saving his King. Jonah still acts like his usual self, only in the darkness of night does he let down his walls and reveal how frustrated he is, it is all his fault. He needed to save his King, he should have been there earlier and the tower wouldn’t have collapsed. Jonah meets the King's eyes and the two exchange a darkened gaze.

The Jack of Hearts has jade eyes cast down to his belt where his fallen protege’s sword now lays. He runs his fingers along the hilt, not sure how to process the memories and pain he is feeling inside. The memory of his student taking the hit for him still makes his blood run cold. Taking one of his pristine white gloves off he runs his bare fingers against Zero’s blade, the cold metal does nothing to quell the aching in his heart. The gentle demon is no longer gentle, the kind smile he once wore no matter the situation now is a grim line on his face. I should have told you how much I cared. I should have protected you more.

Next to the Jack of Hearts is the forever drunk medic, Kyle. His topaz eyes hold more sorrow, and everyday his heart grows a little heavier. He should have tried harder, if he was better at his job so many lives wouldn’t have been lost. He looks down at his hands, they should have been clean of bloodshed, but they hold more bloodshed than anyone in Cradle. He clenches his fists, turning over his hands and hiding them in his sleeves. I wasn’t good enough to save them, I am not worthy of saving anyone anymore. His eyes unfocused, he pulls a bottle from his pocket and takes a drink, the burning taste of alcohol slides down his throat and he hangs his head, still being haunted by the lifeless eyes of his friends.

A man sits between the two armies, pain showing in his one eye. Harr Silver, the new leader of the Magic tower. Harr has barely spoken a word outside of Tower business since the fight. He was the one who gave Alice the crystals telling her it would help enhance her power, how was he going to know she would sacrifice herself? His eyes lower to the ground as he sees her body bathed in light, he should have known, her soul pure and selfless. He should have stopped her from absorbing the explosion. He looks down to the simple crystal around his neck, the crystal he gave her, the one she could have used to save herself, but instead she chose to save Cradle. The second crystal on his necklace belonged to his young apprentice, the one whose mischievous mismatched eyes he would never see again. He runs his fingers along the crystal, should he have helped them? If he helped them with the barrier maybe one of them would still be alive.

Sirius the gentle Queen of Spades sits next to the quiet wizard and looks down still seeing the blood from the fallen Seth on his hands. If he had only been a few minutes faster, then Dalim wouldn’t have stabbed him in the back. Sirius clenches his hands and grits his jaw against the tears at hearing Seth's final strangled words apologizing for betraying the black army running over and over through his head. Sirius clenches his hand tighter, noticing the scars on his arm and seeing the invisible scar on his stomach from the fights, he looks up to the sky. Seth, I am so sorry, I should have been faster.

Next to Sirius sits the quiet Jack of Spades, Luka. The shy and aloof Jack was now even more shy and aloof, he runs his unit and still cooks dinner, but he no longer seems to care about much else. He doesn’t enjoy cooking as much as he did when Alice was here to taste his food, her smile lighting up the kitchen as she helped him think up new recipes to try. Every night he still trains, his time asleep even less than before, his dreams plagued by the one he never said goodbye to, the one who should have been sent home. He can hear her words the night before the battle, when they argued about whether she should fight, the determination in her eyes as she demands to help. Cradle is my home now, I couldn’t possibly leave knowing you guys could get hurt. When you care about people it hurts to see them hurt. Luka fights back the tears escaping his vision, he traces the necklace in his hands, the one he gave her. He wasn’t strong enough when he needed to be and now she was gone. His amber gold eyes find their way up to the sky as he thinks of his friend now flying high. 30 days wasn’t enough time with you, eternity wouldn’t have been.

The 7 officers all look to the brand new memorial, to the names of the fallen. Cradle won, Cradle was safe, but the cost of the victory was high. The lives lost that day gave Cradle the ability to move on and live. The love paid the way for us remaining to love our families, laugh with our friends and spend our days doing what we loved. The war was won, Cradle was safe, but was the cost of victory worth it?

#ikemen revolution fanfiction #ikemen revolution #ikerev #alternate ending

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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Camlann, except no one is being held back by stupid destinies;

Merlin manages to keep Morgana and Mordred on the side of the light, which has a few rather influential knock-on effects.

Morgause leads her army onto the barren fields of Camlann, her hair and eyes wild, but her sword and focus sharp. Opposite stands her traitor sister’s half brother, the Boy-King of Camelot, surrounded by his precious knights. Today, they would all die, she would make certain of that.

Arthur struggles to keep his hands from trembling, he’s well aware that this battle will likely be his, and subsequently Camelot’s, downfall, but his nerves are settled slightly by Merlin’s comforting presence at his side. Which he feels immensely guilty at.

He’d done his best to urge Merlin to run, to take Gwen and Gaius and maybe even Morgana, to go to Ealdor to pick up his mother and run even further, just in case. Merlin had refused of course; Gwen and Morgana had squawked at Arthur’s stupid chivalry and planted their feet firmly in the throne room, a symbolic last line of defence, and Gaius rolled his eyes and reaffirmed that he would be in the infirmary tent, as planned.

He’d given his men his speech and they all seemed content to die for the cause, for one last desperate attempt to keep their home safe, but that didn’t stop the freezing claw of guilt from shredding Arthur’s lungs every time he took a breath. They were just waiting now. For someone to make the first move, for Morgause to get a little closer, for someone to send a messenger.

Arthur’s broken from his stare when a warm, soft, steady hand takes his gently. His head whips to the side to see Merlin, stood without armour (oh, how The King despaired) staring at him with a slight frown. A frown, Arthur thinks, that should be much deeper, and much more afraid. He’s grateful it isn’t. He’s not sure he could cope with seeing Merlin scared:

“Arthur, if... if I knew a way to win this, once and for all, with not a drop of Camelot blood spilt... would you let me?”

It takes Arthur a few moments to process what Merlin had said, on account of his brain focusing on how grateful he is to hear his voice and feel the warmth of his hand instead of actually listening to him speak, but when he does, he copies his servant’s frown, though his is slightly more confused. He doesn’t let go of Merlin’s hand as he responds, instead tightening his grip:

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

Merlin gulps and looks away briefly, a look of guilt if Arthur ever saw one, but he finds he doesn’t really care. They’re all about to die, he’d forgive Merlin anything:

“If I could win this battle, and the war, right here, right now. Would you let me?-”

At Arthur’s continued perplexed look, Merlin rolls his eyes and huffs, smirking slightly as he adds on:

“-Just humour me.”

Arthur gulps, glancing towards the slowly advancing army before once again squeezing Merlin’s hand and looking back at him:

“It would... depend on the consequences, I suppose. Would you get hurt?”

Merlin shakes his head, then stops, and tilts it sideways as though he’s considering something he’d really rather not think about. He can’t meet Arthur’s gaze as he responds:

“I... might need a few hours to rest, afterwards, but any... long term consequences would depend on your reaction.”

Arthur recoils slightly at that, frown deepening as he shakes his head, completely oblivious to the keen listening ears of his six most loyal knights, and another, hidden towards the back of the group. If he’d turned to see them, Arthur would’ve noticed the blank looks of steely determination on Lancelot and Mordred’s faces:

“Well we would never have to worry about that. I... I could never see you hurt, Merlin.”

The King’s voice cracks as he mentions Merlin getting hurt, and the servant’s gaze softens, knowing that Arthur was thinking of their inevitable demise, creeping closer and closer. He squeezes his hand, giving him a soft smile as his other hand lifts up to rest on his shoulder; his question comes out soft and pleading:

“Do you trust me?”

Arthur has to use all of his self control not to yell his answer across Camlann:

“More than anyone.”

Merlin smiles sadly and steps back, dropping both of his still-steady hands to his sides; Arthur feels the gap between them more heavily than he feels the armour on his back. Merlin goes to turn away without another word, but before he can take even one step, a figure is pushing through to the front, gripping his wrist and pulling him back:

“I’m coming too.”

Arthur’s eyes go comically large as he hears Morgana’s voice come from under the hood. He steps forward to rip it down, and she only spares him an annoyed glance before she’s back to staring purposefully at Merlin. A gasp goes up around the group from all bar two, and Mordred dismounts his horse, walking forward to be in line with Morgana. The three of them entirely ignore Arthur’s outraged words:

“Morgana, what the hell are you doing here? You need to be safe at the castle, you’re meant to take the crown what the hell are you doing here?!”

Merlin meets Morgana’s determined glare with a resigned one of his own:

“No, this is my-”

Mordred interrupts him, his voice strong in a way that Arthur had never heard from the youngest knight before:

“No. No, it’s not. You’re not just fighting for Camelot, Merlin, you’re fighting or us, for our people.”

Merlin looks like he wants to argue, but Morgana crosses her arms and holds her head high as she speaks:

“You’re making a stand and you have no right to stop us from doing the same. This is bigger than you, bigger than all three of us, this is our fight just as much as it is yours.”

Merlin can only hold their stare for so long before he sighs and looks to the floor, entirely oblivious to the knights panicking (bar Lancelot, of course). He looks up with a small, relaxed smile on his face, and if Arthur weren’t so preoccupied with the fact that Morgana was definitely not supposed to be here, he would’ve found Merlin’s almost-nonchalance calming. The servant holds both his hands out:

“Together?”

Mordred grins widely, taking one of Merlin’s wrists as he responds confidently:

“For Camelot.”

Morgana does the same, a sudden wind whipping her hair behind her wildly:

“For our people.”

Without another moment’s of hesitation, Merlin turns and marches towards Morgause and her army. His steps are purposeful and strong, and Arthur can’t bring himself to stop him, no matter how desperately his brain is screaming at him. Morgana turns to him with a not-quite-cruel smirk:

“This has been a long time coming, brother. Enjoy the show.”

Arthur can only blink in surprise as she turns and walks towards Merlin. Mordred looks to him next, though the young knight’s smile is a lot softer, a lot more pitying:

“You should consider yourself lucky, Arthur,-”

Arthur barely registers the use of his first name:

“-my Lord gave up his throne in favour of serving you, buried his crown in favour of polishing yours.”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, his voice quiet and confused and strained as he asks:

“Your Lord?”

Mordred looks to Merlin, still marching across the seemingly never-ending field, with an awed smile; his voice is quiet and holds notes of what almost sound like worship:

“He’s more than you know.”

Before Arthur can respond, Merlin and Morgana stop, turning to look at Mordred expectantly. Merlin stares blankly, his brows slightly furrowed, but Morgana sports a wild grin as she yells back:

“I though you wanted to join in on the fun, Mordred?”

The young knight grins in response, turning to Arthur and giving him one last short bow as he cheerfully says, not a trace of worry in his voice:

“Lady Morgana is right My Lord, enjoy the show.”

He turns away quickly, jogging to catch up with the other two before anyone can say anything. Gwaine is the first to react, jumping off his horse and starting forward, to catch up with them, to pull them back, to ask them what the fuck was going on, but Lance quickly lands behind him, grabbing his shoulder:

“Wait, don’t. You trust them right?-”

He casts his gaze around the others, all looking slightly confused but mostly panicked as they dismount their horses. Mordred, Merlin, and Morgana make their journey to the centre of the field, but Lancelot’s eyes focuses on Arthur:

“-You said you trusted him, so just... this is what he does, Arthur. Please, just trust him, everything’s going to be ok.”

Arthur is desperate to question his knight, to demand that he explain what’s going on and give up anything, everything he knows, but before he can say anything, Elyan gasps and points somewhere beyond their friends. The whole army seems to resume their earlier jitters as Morgause differentiates herself from her soldiers.

The three magic users spread out slightly as they come to a stop, Mordred on the left, Morgana on the right, and Merlin, of course, in the middle.

A storm seems to be fast approaching and the loud wind makes hearing each other difficult, but they don’t need words to speak, and Mordred’s question echoes in Merlin’s head as all of their gazes focus on Morgause stepping forward:

“Are the other two coming?”

The Warlock nods, tapping his finger to his temple briefly as he replies:

“I called for them hours ago, they’re almost-”

Arthur is distracted from all that’s in front of him when a desperate and terrified voice screeches out from the back of his army:

“DRAGONS!!”

He, and all the other knights, whip their heads around in panic, only to see exactly what had been yelled about. The Dragon that Arthur had supposedly killed years ago is flying towards them like a hurricane, golden scales shining bright even in the shadows of the approaching storm. Next to him flies a much smaller dragon, pure white and clearly young, unstable in the air but still graceful, still terrifying.

Arthur’s heart sinks even impossibly further as they both fly straight over them, aiming for the other side of the field. If Morgause had two Dragons at her beck and call somehow, there was no hope, no matter what ridiculous plan Merlin had. Arthur felt the tears fill his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. If this was to end in fire, then he’d sprint to Merlin, just so he could see him, hold his hands, beg him for a smile, one last time.

Lancelot holds him back with a hand on his shoulder and a soft smile:

“I know this doesn’t make sense, but just... trust him.”

He turns back to Merlin just to see the great beasts land in front of them, almost acting as a barrier between the three of them and the opposing army.

“-Took you long enough.”

Kilgharrah does his best imitation of rolled eyes before dipping his head in a bow:

“Where would you like us, young Warlock?”

Merlin grins, allowing Aithusa to push her head into his hands as he answers:

“I want you somewhere off to the side looking vaguely threatening. Only intervene if you have to, I don’t want the Camelot knights getting twitchy and skewering you, you’re an old man after all, I’m not sure you could take it.-”

Morgana laughs aloud and Mordred snorts behind his hand, but Kilgharrah just rolls his eyes again, giving another bow that this time somehow seems sarcastic before clomping off to the side, prowling up and down the edge of the field and huffing the occasional puffs of smoke in the opposition’s direction. Merlin looks down to Aithusa next, scratching her chin and using a much softer voice:

“Go watch over Arthur, keep him safe but don’t let him or any of the others hurt you, I’m sure Lance will explain. Try to stay out of the fighting and don’t let Morgause get anywhere near Arthur or the knights, you understand?”

The creature purrs and nods, stepping around her master and beginning an impossibly fast sprint towards Arthur.

Arthur stares with wide eyes at the gathering in the middle of the field, letting out a deep breath when the Great Dragon bows down to Merlin’s confident stance. The smaller creature bounds to him as he... exchanges words with the beasts, and all Arthur can do is stare as his brain argues over which emotion should be at the forefront. Fear? Confusion? Betrayal? Some kind of guilt? Pride, maybe?

Lancelot definitely looks proud, worried, but proud, and Arthur spares him a questioning glance; before he can say anything, Leon lets out a quiet yelp, pointing across the field and drawing his sword on instinct. Arthur whips his head around to see the white Dragon speeding towards them, eyes bright, teeth bared, and sharp claws ripping up the ground with every step.

He draws his own sword, panic clawing at his gut, but before he can step forward in some pointless attempt to protect his men, Lancelot pulls him back again, stepping in between Arthur and the approaching Dragon with a placating hand held out to each of them; his voice comes out quickly and desperate:

“No, no, she’s on our side, don’t hurt her. Merlin sent her here to protect us, don’t hurt her.”

Arthur stares between them with a mix of blood-curdling fear and endless confusion. But he trusts Merlin, and he trusts Lancelot, so much to Leon’s displeasure he lowers his sword, though he doesn’t sheath it, not yet.

The Dragon finally reaches them, coming to a skidding stop a few feet away. Arthur’s fear is overpowered by confusion, and an odd fondness in the back of his mind, when the creature almost topples over in it’s haste. She purrs loudly, and even Leon appears to relax slightly, even more so when she dips her head in what appears to be a bow to Arthur, before turning her attention to Lancelot and pushing her face into his hands.

The other knights all start forward on instinct, but when Lance lets out a low chuckle and begins... scratching the creature’s chin?? They step back again, watching as the Dragon begins purring even louder, almost bowling Lancelot over as it rubs it’s scaled body across his legs. It’s... acting like a cat...

Gwaine coughs very deliberately and Lancelot looks up with a blush, biting his lip before saying, his words awkward and stilted:

“Uh... guys, this is Aithusa, she’s... a Dragon. She can’t speak yet, but-”

Percival makes a confused noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head with wide eyes as he asks incredulously:

“Dragons are meant to be able to speak??”

Lancelot grimaces, but nods, but before he can say anything, Morgause’s crazed voice echoes over the field, and their attention is drawn back to the face off between Merlin, Morgana, Mordred, and the enemy.

“You can not beat me, not even with your precious pets!!”

The gang can hear Kilgharrah’s low growl at the insult and the sound vibrates across the ground and up into their very bones, even with the distance between them. Aithusa tenses in response, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as she detects the anger and insult swarming in her Kin, but Merlin holds a hand out to the Great Dragon, and both creatures relax as he monotonously responds:

“I’m giving you one chance, Morgause, do not send your followers to a pointless death.”

His tone is even and confident, his back straight, his head held high, and Arthur wonders how he’d never noticed Merlin’s obvious power before. Despite speaking normally, his voice is heard by everyone, even over the howling wind.

The knights can see Morgause’s hands shaking in her rage, her eyes wide and bright golden as she screeches her response, her anger showing through clearly:

“I am no coward!! You are nothing but a servant, a child soldier, and a pampered princess! What hope do you have against me?! I am a High Priestess, you are nothing!!!”

Merlin lowers his head, nodding slightly in resigned sadness. His muttered words, once again, somehow seem to echo across the field, and Arthur recoils at the grief in his tone:

“So be it.”

He slowly lifts his arm, holding it at a forty-five degree angle from the ground, his fingers splayed wide, and Elyan gasps, pointing wordlessly to the lightening dancing between his fingertips. Gwaine lets out a boisterous laugh, grinning as he realises with sudden clarity that Merlin is about to kick ass in a major way.

Arthur just gapes, struggling to process what was happening even as Gwaine whoops and Lancelot smiles proudly. The other knights are also staring, varying levels of confusion, awe, and happiness on their faces.

From where they’re standing, they can see Mordred and Morgana get into a fighting stance, though neither of them draw the swords they have hanging from their hips. Morgause lets out an ear piercing screech, this one wordless, giving the distinct impression that her mind had snapped under the weight of her fury. Her army begins their march forwards as she hurls a fireball the size of a horse straight for Merlin, but he simply twists his wrist sharply forwards. A bolt of lightening rips down from the sky, intercepting the fireball and forcing it to the ground where it explodes in a miniature storm of silver sparks and golden flames.

Morgause screams again, her and her army speeding up in their approach as Merlin gives some sort of unseen command. All of a sudden, Mordred gives a small leap forward, planting his feet firmly as he thrusts his hands towards the ground before ripping them up again; with the movement, the ground at his feet explodes, vines and rocks and roots bursting from the field in a sharp line heading straight for the army. Morgana, at the same time, swirls her arms gracefully around her head, a few sparks of fire lighting up in the darkness as if from the friction between her hands and the air. She brings her arms down again, completing the elegant flow, stepping forward as she blows harshly into her cupped hands. A great, hot fire bursts forth, huge and angry and writhing as it shoots towards the enemy.

A few feeble counter attacks are thrown from Morgause and the sorcerers she has in her ranks, but ultimately, the army can only look on in horror at their approaching deaths. After a few moments of Merlin staring proudly at Mordred and Morgana’s handy work as it rips apart the first few hundred soldiers, he takes his own step forward, raising his arm to the sky. Lightening dances between just his fingertips at first, then down his arm, then all over his body; he connects to the flashes in the sky, and he glows brighter and brighter until he thrusts both arms forward. A tornado of flashing, crackling light shoots out from his hands, striking down thousands of soldiers. Shards of lightening jump from enemy to enemy, leaving none untouched by magic, each being struck down by Mordred’s earth, Morgana’s fire, or Merlin’s sky.

The Camelot army can only stare on in shock and horror as the enemy is wiped out in minutes, screams of those being buried alive, burned as if on pyres, or fried from the inside out reverberating across the field. Arthur’s mouth hangs open, his eyes wide and frozen on Merlin as he conducts lightening as if it were what he was born to do. Something deep in Arthur’s soul tells him that this is what he was born to do.

Aithusa’s protection isn’t required; none of the enemy soldiers get within ten metres of Merlin and his pupils, let alone Arthur and the other knights, but she patrols the front edge of Camelot’s army regardless, nudging back those that step too far forward (everyone was too focused on The King’s manservant, knight, and half sister being... well... Godlike, to care about the fact that a Dragon was using her snout to gently push people around), always with one eye on Arthur, just like her master had asked.

Within minutes, the field goes almost silent; the only sounds to be heard are the gentle crackling of still-smouldering bodies, and the deep breaths of Morgause, Mordred, Morgana, and Arthur. Merlin seems entirely unbothered, his stance still strong and powerful where Mordred and Morgana sag slightly from the exertion.

Morgause falls to her knees, tears on her cheeks as she finally realises the power that she’s up against; Merlin tilts his head slightly before clicking his fingers. The four of them disappear in clouds of deep black smoke and Arthur struggles to stop himself from yelping and falling back when they reappear in front of him.

Morgause is still kneeling, Merlin in front of her with a blank expression on his face. Morgana stands to the side, her face an odd mix of sorrowfully defeated—Morgause was her sister after all—and vindictively victorious. Mordred stands at her shoulder, looking a lot more tired but still managing to stay upright as he gazes upon the scene with well put together indifference. Aithusa bounds over to be stood at her master’s side, and even Kilgharrah joins them, standing behind Aithusa a way’s off.

Morgause finally speaks through her deep breathing, staring up at Merlin in desperation:

“Who are you?”

Merlin just tilts his head and frowns slightly, crouching down to place a soft hand on her shoulder:

“Who do you think?”

Morgause sags even further, her tears streaming down her face as she almost whispers, her voice cracking:

“Emrys.”

Merlin nods slowly, looking to Arthur for the first time since the whole ordeal started. Arthur is taken aback at the shining gold of his eyes, but holds his gaze, gulping and waiting for his servant (?) to make the first move:

“Your orders, My Lord?”

Arthur takes a deep breath, looking first down at Morgause, who is staring at the floor blankly, then to Mordred and Morgana, who raise eyebrows at him, then Lancelot, who shrugs, and finally the other knights, who stare at him with wide eyes, waiting for his answer just as Merlin is. His hands clench at his side, but he looks back to the dark-haired man, his face determined and his voice strong:

“Your suggestion?”

Lancelot nods approvingly at Arthur’s obvious show of trust; the question is more than just a question, it’s a display that The King is treating Merlin like an advisor, asking for his counsel and trusting his allegiance in front of a crowd. Merlin smiles slightly, tightening his grip on Morgause’s shoulder, not that she notices:

“I’m not overly fond of execution, but we don’t have dungeons strong enough to hold her long term, and too many have suffered at her hand.”

Arthur nods, though he sheathes his sword. He takes a deep breath before his next instruction, knowing that this is... delicate, and important; a turning point in his Kingdom’s history:

“Make it merciful.”

Merlin holds in his proud smile and Morgause only has time to gasp quietly as his hand moves from her shoulder to her forehead. Her eyes roll back and she collapses to the floor, dead before she even hits the ground.

The Warlock spares the dead witch a quick, pitying glance, and the grief in his eyes, even after all she had done, is endearing, reminding everyone around them of the compassion Merlin is capable of. He stands quickly, but is careful not to make any of his moves too sudden, stepping away from the body and towards Arthur. His stance is strong once again, allowing some before unseen authority, confidence, power to shine through; Mordred and Morgana take their places either side of them, and even Aithusa sits up, tall and proud, as Kilgharrah edges forward slightly.

This is Merlin, showing off his army, presenting it to his King, offering it up for judgment. An army consisting of himself, his two apprentices, and two Dragons; not large, but likely the most powerful the land has ever known, and ever will know.

Arthur gulps, but meets Merlin’s golden gaze. The atmosphere is thick and charged and The King couldn’t pinpoint whether it was from the residual lightening still jumping between Merlin’s fingers, or the sheer power that was just displayed, seemingly effortlessly. He glances over the Warlock’s shoulder at the carnage behind him and can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath. Merlin tilts his head, glancing at the massacre for just a moment before looking back with an almost repentant smile:

“I apologise for the theatrics,-”

He’s interrupted by Morgana’s whispered murmur of “I don’t, that was brilliant.” but ignores her:

“-but I can... fix that. If you like?”

Arthur frowns slightly, confused and so far out of his comfort zone that he doesn’t even want to hazard a guess at what Merlin might be implying. He feels a mould grow spontaneously in his gut, a horror with spores that spread throughout his bloodstream as he realises that... he doesn’t really know anything about magic, about how it works, about how Merlin is offering to use it. It had yet to occur to him to be afraid of Merlin, but the sudden realisation that he’d been persecuting his servant’s people with no real understanding of his own former hatred was... jarring.

The Warlock sees Arthur’s hesitation, widening his reassuring smile slightly as he repeats an earlier question, from a time that felt as though it had come years before, but was really only minutes. The discrepancy in timelines between Arthur’s head and the real world does not alter the King’s answer

“Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone.”

Merlin closes his eyes, holding his hands out to the side slightly as he lets out a deep breath. The storm, which Arthur and the knights had become entirely oblivious of despite it’s ruinous thunder and blinding flashes of lightening, quickly dissipates; blue sky and bright sun peek through the fading clouds. A gold shimmer ripples out across the ground from Merlin’s feet, spreading backwards like a wave over sand, turning pebbles and leaving the beach clean and fresh in it’s wake. The ground clears, bodies sinking into nothingness and fires being smothered by magic, even Morgause disappears into the dirt.

Arthur absentmindedly thinks that that could be seen as honorary or disgracing; he supposes it depends on what type of person you were before the end of your life. Merlin would see being entombed within the Earth itself as a blessing, he somehow thinks that Morgause, with her God complex and inflated feelings of infallibility, would find it... demeaning.

Merlin sags his head slightly, and when Arthur’s brain comes back into focus, mostly prompted by the gasping and widespread whispers of the uneasy army behind him, he sees that the barren fields of Camlann, soaked with blood and scorched by lightening, no longer exist. In their place was a vast meadow, bright with the colours of spring and summer; untameable wildflowers stood tall and crimson butterflies were the only reminders of the bloodshed that had watered this paradise before them.

Arthur feels the smile on his face before he had even made the conscious decision to smile, but he decides that today, of all days, he doesn’t mind accidentally wearing his heart on his sleeve. Trust Merlin to do something as unspeakable as rip an army to shreds with lightening, and then apologise for his dramatics by creating heaven on earth.

The King sighs before shaking his head slightly, letting out a short, disbelieving laugh. He can feel the sun on his skin, and his smile grows with the knowledge that the heat warming his cheeks was entirely unnatural for this time of year; Merlin really was pulling out all of the stops.

“You’re a gift to this world, Merlin.”

His voice comes out softly, as if he were afraid of ruining the peace, though he only adds to it; The King finally turns to his Warlock again and almost stumbles back at the immeasurable devotion shining from his now-blue-again eyes. His whispered response carries on the wind as if he were a part of it, and Arthur wonders just how much of this world Merlin has touched, just how much of this universe Merlin has created, extended himself to. Did the wind exist before Merlin? Did the sun? Did butterflies, or lightening, or the colour gold have any space in this universe before Merlin willed it? Gaius’ thick books say they have an answer, but Arthur thinks they might be lying:

“A gift to you, Arthur, only to you.”

THE END!

I’ve been looking forward to writing this one for a while, so I hope y’all liked it!! I LOVE writing BAMF!Merlin, (and BAMF!Mordred/Morgana as well so) :D

Same as always, you wanna extend it/write it properly/remix it, then that’s fine, but drop me message before hand and credit/tag me!! :)

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rainbowvamp · 3 years

Text

Enchanted

Happy Mercelot week my loves! Enjoy a Cinderella love at first sight au. Featuring Merlin in a pretty outfit and infatuated Lancelot!

@mercelotweek fill for "beauty"

——

Merlin looks down at the bit of fabric in his hands. He’s never tried to alter an object this way. He’d cut a bit of Camelot red from one of the cloaks Arthur had sent to be re-hemmed and was just… looking at it. It was washed, but still obviously worn, fraying in places, no matter how he’d tried to mend it. He hadn’t been particularly keen on the red, but it was the only thing he’d had on hand. He certainly wasn’t going to risk any of his own clothes for something that might not work.

Merlin had altered himself before, sure, but he’d gotten stuck that way as often as he’d done it. A mask couldn’t exactly drink a potion and return to it’s original form. So, he had to be very careful and meticulous when he crafted this spell.

The white of his party clothes was incredible, striking, really, compared to all the other clothes he’d ever worn. Cast offs, surely, but they were beautiful. Morgana or even Gwen might know if they were even still in style, but it was meant to be a bit of a lark, this party. Both for him and the other guests in attendance. The others would be in costumes fashioned from older clothing, or clothing made costume by masks. It was supposed to be fun, light hearted, this party, but here Merlin is, overthinking something as simple as a mask.

He murmurs a spell of his own creation and the scrap of fabric, crumpled and pinned to generally resemble a mask, became something gorgeous before his eyes. The fabric was thinner, almost like lace in weight, but stayed stiff in his hand like it had been over starched. The pins had become fine, metallic dots over the eye holes, and the ribbon he’d use to secure it was almost silk like.

It was beautiful, but Merlin could feel the tenuous nature of the spell. It wouldn’t last forever. It might not even last the night. He could feel the threads of magic holding it delicately in this shape, but ready to break apart at any moment.

Well, he’d just have to make his trip to the party short so he wouldn’t risk being found out. These things usually went so far into the night it became morning, but he’d probably have until midnight before the spell wore off and risked exposing him.

If anyone found out a Servant was mingling with these Nobles, he’d be in the stocks for a week. Maybe worse.

Guinevere, who is his dearest friend and closest confidant, has agreed to help him with his hair for tonight, so he sneaks off to Morgana’s rooms, the lady already down at the party, to get her help, mask already in place, just in case anyone should see him.

The palace feels different when he walks around in clothes that belong to a nobleman. The servants he passes bow respectfully, and it makes him uneasy. How can people stand this? He felt so terrible, watching people avert their eyes and how their heads like he or anyone else had any right to their humility.

In Morgana’s rooms, Gwen adjusts his coat and combs his hair back in a way he didn’t think would suit him, but he ends up liking. He tries once more to convince her to come with him, to just steal one of Morgana’s old dresses and wear a veil, but she’s convinced she’ll be found out, and isn’t willing to risk it.

Merlin has no such qualms, and has vowed to take her involvement with this little scheme to the grave. Or the stocks.

“You look wonderful,” She says when she finally lays her brush down. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Haha, Guinevere. I just want to see how the other half lives for a night. You’re sure you won’t come?”

And now she rolls her eyes. “The lady Morgan and I are much closer than you and Arthur. She’d notice me, even with a mask. Maybe the next one.”

He smiles softly at her. “Definitely the next one. Besides, you’ll still be there. You’ll just have to endure less of the idle dithering of nobles.”

She giggles, “Merlin, you can’t talk about them like that.”

“I can talk about them however I like dressed like this,” He tugged his collar a bit to show off and that set her off again. She covered her mouth to keep their presence hidden and swatted at him.

“Okay, you’ve made your point. Now go, before it’s over.”

“Love you,” he kissed her cheek and she returned the gesture.

“Please don’t get yourself killed.” Which was as good as an I love you too from Gwen.

“No promises. I did try to fight the prince my first day here.”

—-

Merlin takes a second glass of mead in less than half an hour from a passing try. He knows this will be a terrible idea, but he cannot, to save his own life, stand this lot while sober any longer.

Occasionally one of the nobles will smile and greet him, ask him who he is, but for the most part, people are interested in socializing with those they already know, and the few who approach him are obviously uninterested in him as much as they are interested in the connections he might be able to make them.

“I’m dying out here,” he murmurs to Gwen when she’s pauses briefly to grab another tray to pass around lady Morgana’s table.

“I’m so sorry. You poor dear.” She smirks and he smiles back at her.

“Your turn next.”

“Mhmm, after all the fun you’re having, I can’t wait.”

He laughed as she left and his spirits were lifted for the first time all night. He took a final sip of his mead and left it on a table, deciding to try his luck on the dance floor at the same moment that a set of deep brown eyes caught him from across the room.

“Caught” was not an exaggeration. The smoldering, desirous look in the eyes that looked like they might have been looking at him for a while held him like a man entranced. His breath caught in his throat as the man started to make his way toward him.

He was in chain mail, a knight in a cloak that was unmistakably Camelot red. It wasn’t unlike the cloak he’d cut his mask from.

At the reminder, Merlin focused briefly on his mask, whose transformed state was tenuous. It would last a while longer, maybe an hour, maybe longer.

The determined way the knight walked toward him, through the onlookers, partygoers and celebrators was almost overwhelming. No one tonight had looked so intently upon him. He wasn’t sure how to handle it.

His feet seemed to decide how to handle it for him. Thick dark hair that begged to be tugged at and a mouth made for kissing, it drew him in like so few things ever had. Even with the black mask obscuring his face, Merlin can tell he must be beautiful. The cut of his jaw is too perfect for him not to be.

Merlin is stunned by the time they meet, standing obnoxiously still in the middle of the dance floor. The knight bows to him, and while servants bowing to him had made him uncomfortable, this feels formal, and somehow honorable. He holds out his hand when the knight starts to stand, thinking they might shake, but instead Lancelot takes the offered hand and kisses the back of it, eyes trained on Merlin the entire time.

He is grateful for the cover of the mask, with the way that he can feel the blush forming high on his cheek. He wouldn’t want to embarrass himself in front of a knight.

“Hello, My Lord. I am Sir Lancelot.”

Lancelot. He’s heard Arthur speak of him, in passing. An excellent fighter, perhaps as good as the Prince himself. As he stands, Sir Lancelot smiles at him, and Merlin about melts as his stomach flutters and he stands tall, just about eye level with him.

“Hello, Sir Lancelot.” The words are breathier than he means to be, and if Lancelot notices, he gives no indication.

With the slightest bow he asks, “May I have this dance?”

Merlin had been about to dance on his own anyway. Only, Merlin’s never danced any of these formal noble dances, only remembers celebrations in Ealdor, and in the lower town. He isn’t sure of the steps, but Lancelot still hasn’t dropped his hand, and his mouth seems to speak with the same ungiven authority his feet had moved him with.

“Certainly.”

Lancelot takes Merlin’s other hand to place it on his shoulder, and takes Merlin at the waist. It’s what everyone else seems to be doing, and he’s grateful that Lancelot says nothing when they’re pulled so close their chests are nearly flush.

Lancelot starts to move, but Merlin can’t keep time, keeps stumbling over his feet, and Lancelot’s. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” Merlin laughs, afraid Lancelot will simply leave, but the man’s returning smile tells another story.

“That’s alright. Just stop thinking so hard about it. I’ll lead.” He pauses briefly to adjust his grip on Merlin’s waist and then Merlin feels the gentle push of the hand there, urging him to move back, forth, left, right, turn, in time with the music. Between Lancelot’s easy leading, and the way his eyes seem to never leave Merlin’s, it’s easy to feel like they are the only two people here, the only ones that matter.

Merlin finds the rhythm eventually, and the gentle coaxing on his hip becomes obsolete. He still misses the feel of Lancelot’s hand in his when they’re suddenly unclasped and grabbing Merlin by the waist, to spin him around with the flourish as the dance came to an end. He laughs, and the answering twinkle in Lancelot’s eyes speaks volumes for how he’s enjoyed himself.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lancelot asked, and Merlin smiles, letting the knight take his hand and kiss it again.

“I’d say it was the best dance I’ve ever had. Thank you, Sir Lancelot.”

“I aim to please.” Another song started up, and Lancelot raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid this one is a group dance. Unless you fancy a half dozen partners and more steps than you can count, we might sit this one out.”

Merlin laughed, “I certainly don’t want that. Get a drink with me?” Merlin doesn’t need another drink, but he is parched.

When Lancelot offers his elbow to Merlin, he almost rolls his eyes, but can’t help the grin it illicits. “Such a gentleman.” He smiles, and Lancelot returns it. They take a seat at a nearby table, long since unoccupied in favor of the dancing.

Lancelot serves him mead before a servant can, highly unusual for a knight, as Merlin is well aware. “Thank you,” he waits for Lancelot to serve his own glass and clinks them together before taking a healthy sip from his. The warmth of the joy of Lancelot and the mead mix together, leaving him feeling heady and relaxed.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name. Is that terrible?” Lancelot asked, and Merlin laughed in response.

“Few would. I’m hardly a common attendee of these sorts of things. I’m Emerys of Ealdor.”

“Such a beautiful name, for a beautiful man,” Lancelot gestured for a servant to bring the tray they were holding, and thanked him graciously as he served both Merlin and himself honey cakes. “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of Ealdor. Is it far from here?”

“Yes. I don’t see it much, anymore. It’s in Essetir, and it is not exactly safe to pass between the two lands. I haven’t been home in many years.”

Lancelot frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I too can not return home. I know how lonely that can be.”

Merlin smiled sadly. “Yes. But I do make friends wherever I go, and that helps.”

“I hope perhaps I may one day be counted among them?” Lancelot raies and eyebrow and Merlin’s besotted.

“Easily. So you do not come from Camelot?”

“No. I was a wonderer for a long time, learning sword craft to become a knight of Camelot, one of the noblest lands I know of.”

“One of?” Merlin asked, and he’s honestly curious. He’s used to the way the knights talk about Camelot, like it is perfect, the most wonderful place to live with the most impressive king.

“The King is very noble. He has a heart for the people not all Kings can boast.”

“But?” Merlin pushes, and Lancelot smiles uneasily.

“But not all of the people of Camelot belong in the King’s heart. It is not always my desire to carry out the laws against magic users, if they’ve done no wrong. But I am always loyal to my king.” He took a sip of his mead, pulling gently on the collar of his shirt.

Merlin didn’t know what it felt like to fall in love, but he thought perhaps this might be it. Like falling and being overwhelmed, and wanting nothing more to steal away with someone who appeared perfect in every way.

“I must say I agree.” He said, and Lancelot visibly relaxed. “But like you, I have no ill will toward the King. He does what he believes to be right, and that is all any man can be asked to do.” And perhaps one day he would see that he was not right. Merlin could only hope.

“Yes. Will you be in Camelot long, after the festival?” The question is so obviously probing that Merlin feels a bit of glee at it, even as his heart sinks, because he can’t have this man. Lancelot is a knight of Camelot, and Merlin is a servant.

“I’m afraid not. I leave tonight,” Merlin smiled wanly, and Lancelot’s face mirrors him.

“There’s no possibility of your plans being changed?”

“No. I’m expected somewhere tomorrow. We’ll have to ride through the night to get there.” This is the first true lie Merlin has told all night, and it aches to say. Lancelot cares for magic users, and he’s kind, and he didn’t ask Merlin what connections he had or how he might be helpful to him. He just wanted to have a dance and talk.

He looks away and meets Gwen’s eyes, somewhere over Lancelot’s shoulders. She looks so sad, and he knows he must look the same.

“When might you be back? In Camelot, I mean?”

“I can’t say. It’s only coincidence that brought me here tonight.” This at least, is true. Merlin never could’ve come to this party if not for Gwen coincidentally finding the discarded clothing in the closer of a long disgraced nobleman. The fact that they happened to fit Merlin was also happenstance, and if not for that, he’d never be here. With an hour of Gwen’s help, she’d been able to tailor them nearly to perfect, and he was loathe to admit he looked quite good.

“That is a shame. We must enjoy tonight then.”

“Yes, we must.”

The song changed and Merlin took as delicate a bite as he could manage of his honey cake before taking Lancelot’s hand. “Teach me to dance some more, you’re fantastic at it.”

This brought a smile to Lancelot’s face. “It would be an honor, my lord.”

They take to the dance floor. This dance, whatever it is, is far more complicated than the last one, and Lancelot also stumbles through it occasionally, which makes Merlin feel just a bit better.

“We’ve nearly got it!” Merlin laughed when the music ended, and Lancelot bowed to him again. Merlin is about to ask him for another one when a tall figure suddenly approaches them.

“Mind if I cut in?” Says another knight of Camelot, this one completely disregarding the dresscode and lacking a mask. His long hair came to his shoulder and Merlin would’ve found him incredibly attractive if it weren’t for the fact Lancelot was already the center of his night.

Merlin bows goodbye to Lancelot, thinking this knight has come for his equal, he certainly wouldn’t be the only knight to do so, but then he sees the hard edge of Lancelot’s eyes and is a bit confused.

“My Lord.” The new knight says, and takes Merlin’s hand, sweeping him away from Lancelot without waiting for so much as a “by your leave.”

“I’m Sir Gwaine. You’re a pretty thing,” the knight says, and Merlin doesn’t find this compliment as positive as Lancelot’s.

“I’m sorry if I have no desire to be called an object.” He said stiffly, and Gwaine laughed.

“You’ve got nerve. Lancelot must like that.” Merlin was swept up and turned, his hands barley having time to grip Gwaine’s shoulders and stabilize himself as he was lifted into the air. “I’m sorry to intrude. Sir Lancelot is one of my dearest friends, and a bit of teasing always does him good. Can you see him?” He leaned in to whisper these last words in his ear and Merlin’s eyes start searching the floor for Lancelot.

He’s not on the dance floor, but is watching them with a deep intensity from the spot where they’d sat and ate the song before. “You’ve upset him.”

“Well, you didn’t have to accept.” The man smiled, and Merlin scowled.

“I thought you were asking for Lancelot, not me. Besides, you didn’t give me time to either accept or deny. Just carried me off like some sort of brute.”

“My apologies.” But nothing about his tone seemed apologetic. “However, when Lancelot gets his hands back on you, I think you might just thank me for my little intervention.”

Merlin’s barely following along with whatever steps, but he’s starting to fume. “What is this? Some sort of joke? Do you find that appropriate?”

“I meant no harm,” He smiled, “I swear.” They turned and for a second his eyes focused over Merlin’s shoulder and he grimaced. “But I’m afraid I may have gone too far. I’m going to get it in training tomorrow.” He focused on Merlin again to grin. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it.” The song ended and Merlin just barely put up with a peck on his hand. Before he can pull away, Gwaine holds his hand tight, and Merlin freezes. “Lancelot hasn’t looked this happy for a very long time. I hope you don’t mean to dash his heart.”

Merlin is shocked at the insinuation. “I’ve only just met him. There are no hearts involved.”

“Mmm, you haven’t known Lancelot as long as I have. I assure you, there are.” He made Merlin take his arm and lead him back to the table where Lancelot was sitting. There was a blond knight standing beside him now, leaning in and murmuring something in his ear. “He falls so quick it’s a marvel he’s ever on his feet. But he’s loyal. I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea if you mean to disappear.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, stiffening, and Gwaine shrugged.

“I’ve never seen you before. Neither has anyone else I’ve asked. You’re passing through. Who’s to say how you got an invitation, but you’re not likely to return if you’re making no move to introduce yourself to everyone here. I’ve been a wanderer, I know the signs of someone who only intends to stay one night. If you’ve no intention to stay, I wish you’d leave him be.”

“It’s complicated,” Merlin said voice still tense.

“Everything is. My word stands.” They arrive at the table and Lancelot stands, pulling out Merlin’s chair for him, glaring at Gwaine.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I couldn’t get enough of our new friend. But he’s all yours now, Lancelot.”

Merlin takes a seat and is relieved for Gwaine to go. Lancelot looks him over like he’s afraid he might’ve been mauled. “Are you alright? I know Gwaine tends to be a bit… forward.”

Merlin laughed, a bit uncomfortable now after what Gwaine’d said. “I’m alright. He wasn’t too forward. Just a bit blunt.”

“Yes, he’s like that.” Merlin followed Lancelot’s gaze to Gwaine, and hoped that Lancelot did beat Gwaine on the training field tomorrow.

The honey cake he’d left is still there, and so he takes another bite. Things like this were so rarely afforded to him he had to force himself not to scarf it down. The cake was soft and crumbled easily in his mouth, giving way to a sweet, delicate flavor. The soft sigh of pleasure from the taste of it all drew Lancelot’s gaze briefly to his lips, and Merlin felt his face heat. “I don’t usually indulge.” He said, as way of explanation, and Lancelot smiled.

“I’m glad you’ve given yourself the pleasure tonight. Camelot’s kitchens are famous.”

“I can see why.” He says, taking another bite of the delicious cake.

“Perhaps they might entice you back.” Lancelot says with a hopeful look, and Merlin swallows.

“Perhaps.” He’s starting to think that maybe this is no good anymore. He’s playing with this man’s heart, pretending to be someone he is not. As much fun as this is, and much as he’s possibly developing a crushing love for Lancelot, this is wrong. They could never be, simply by the virtue of Merlin’s station.

A clock, somewhere far off, strikes and he jumpsin his seat. He checks the magic holding his mask and finds it worryingly close to breaking. He can’t let his face be seen here.

Luckily, he has a readymade excuse.

“Hell.” He murmurs, putting down the cake and being careful to use the napkin to clean his fingers. Had to keep up this act of nobility, no matter how much he’d rather lick the crumbs from his fingers. “I have to go.” He drops the napkin down and pushes his chair back, throwing Lancelot an apologetic look that is more genuine that Merlin meant it to be.

“What? It’s only midnight. Please.” He takes Merlin’s hand as he stands, stopping him from going any further.

“I have to go. My carriage will be waiting. I was suppose to be there ten minutes ago.” Merlin tugs on his hand, but Lancelot holds it, doesn’t let it go.

“Please, I can’t- It’s too soon.” His pleading hurts Merlin, but now that his anxiety has taken over, he knows it’s just a matter of time before the mask becomes a scrap of cloth and falls from his face.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” He pulls his hand out of Lancelot’s and rushes as much as he dares to the door.

Sir Gwaine blocks his path just as he gets to the door. “Leaving so soon? Can’t I tempt you for another dance?” Merlin can’t read his face, is too worried to even think about trying.

When he looks behind him and sees Lancelot coming for them, he starts to truly panic. He can’t afford a delay.

He turns his face away from Gwaine and mutters a spell to drop a nearby server’s tray. This distracts Gwaine just long enough for Merlin to slip past him and out of the great hall.

He can hear Lancelot coming, calling after him, but he dare not look back. He mutters a second spell to slam the ballroom doors. This will serve both to slow Lancelot’s progress and hide which way Merlin goes goes.

And considering he’s going deeper into, rather than out of, the castle, it’s very important no one sees his retreat.

He slips through the halls, hearing Lancelot’s cries echo and then disappear as he goes toward the castle door, looking for him.

He’ll never find him.

Merlin swipes uselessly at his prickling eyes. He hadn’t wanted to leave Lancelot, but after what Gwaine had said, he couldn’t stay in good conscience. He swallowed hard to try and keep himself collected, and finally ducked into Gaius’ rooms, gracefully empty.

As soon as the door was closed he felt his magic break and the mask become a scrap of fabric. Camelot-red fell into his lap, and he stared at it, thinking of what might have been, and let himself cry.

#minimercelotweek2021 #bbc merlin #merlance #mercelot #lancelin #lancelot/merlin #merlin/lancelot #merlin x lancelot #lancelot x merlin #day 1: beauty

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Unjust

Prompts: Prompt for ya if u like! Ur so talented, big fan of your stories!-->>> Arthur is forced to come to grips with how little Merlin's life matters to society when Uther refuses to even discipline the nobles who beat him, dismissing Arthur with the words that will change how he sees the world forever; "Stop being so dramatic, he's only a servant. I'll get you a new one." - anon

The last fic you just wrote with h/c and merlin's duties as a servant WAS SO GOOD AND SO PAINFUL. Could we get a sequel? Maybe the knights trying to deal with the aftermath or the first time it happens again and Merlin trying to figure out what's something he's supposed to tell Arthur about v. actually his job? I don't know - anon

Ah yes more of these bois always

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: implied/referenced abuse, uther is an absolute gobshite, merlin gets hurt quite bad

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2624

Arthur thought it couldn’t get worse.

Couldn’t get worse than Merlin looking at all of them with a completely serene expression on his face and telling them he’s been abused since the second he set foot in Camelot. That he could look at all of them and be absolutely sincere, calm, almost resigned about the torment he’s been put through.

Couldn’t get worse than Merlin being confused when all of the knights immediately protested, that yes, Merlin, this is systematic abuse, that has been allowed to pass unseen for too long, that there are no consequences for things like this but damnit there should be. That Merlin, somehow, knew that this was wrong but didn’t call it abuse.

Couldn’t get worse than Merlin looking at him, right at him, and telling him that Arthur has abused him, since day one, and that he doesn’t feel it’s his place to stop him. That Arthur has been complicit and has helped people abuse him because he thought Arthur didn’t care enough to help him realize that it was wrong.

No, Arthur thought they were past the worst of it.

Now Arthur tells Merlin bluntly that he’s not supposed to be the servant to any visiting knight. He’s supposed to walk them to their chambers and leave, right then. There will be other servants who will help them get settled the rest of the way. One will see to the bed. One will see to the food. One will see to the armor if, and only if, it is requested. Merlin will not spend a second more around the knights than he has to.

Merlin looks a little afraid when he tells him that and Arthur can’t stop himself from taking the man into his arms and asking him what’s the matter.

“They’ll be angry,” he mutters, studiously avoiding Arthur’s gaze, “they’ll be angry I’m not staying.”

“Then they can come and talk to me.” Arthur brushes Merlin’s hair out of his face. “But they don’t get to harm you.”

Leon enforces it the first time a knight decides no, he’s going to get upset when Merlin leaves. Leon’s temper does not flare often, nor does it flare particularly high, but he’ll never forget the way Merlin rushes to his side and tells him he swears Leon’s eyes flashed red for a second. Leon tells him later that he…persuaded the knight to be grateful that there were servants here to help him at all.

He makes sure to be nearby the next time, just to see Leon slam the knight against the wall.

Leon bustles Merlin down to the armory, passing it off as the need to clean the weapons, when Arthur knows full well it’s an excuse to hoard Merlin to themselves and keep him safe.

Sometimes Elyan takes it a step further, comes between whatever knight thinks it’s a good idea to accost Merlin in the armory and tells them back off. He makes a show of Merlin knowing exactly where all the weapons are and exactly how often one of them will come down to find him. Merlin returns to Arthur’s chambers after the first time with a soft ‘you’d really come look for me?’ Arthur doesn’t quite cuddle him to sleep that night but they don’t move from the hug for a while.

Percival, of course, turns the protective hug into an art form. The man is huge, certainly much larger than the average knight, and watching him glare at someone over Merlin’s shoulders is quickly turning into one of Arthur’s favorite past times. He’s no stranger to the way Merlin will sometimes scoot closer to someone when he’s feeling overwhelmed, but it’s something else to see Percival almost mold into shape when Merlin’s by his side. A soft word in Percival’s ear and you couldn’t drag him away.

Lancelot is never far from Merlin’s side. Merlin jokes one day that he and Arthur have some sort of alliance or pact; one of them is never allowed to be further than a few paces away from him if the other isn’t around.

“That’s not true, Merlin,” Lancelot chuckles, nudging his knee with his foot, “the two of us don’t have that pact.”

No, Arthur smiles privately to himself, the six of us have that pact.

And sometimes Merlin can’t come to Arthur. That knowledge still burns when he remembers it, but it makes sense. Arthur holds a position of power. Arthur has—whether he feels sick with regret or not—contributed to Merlin’s abuse. Arthur is not always there for Merlin the way he needs to be. But Lancelot is.

And when Lancelot isn’t, Merlin always has Gwaine.

Arthur is not too proud to admit that he and Gwaine butt heads more often than they don’t, certainly when it comes to Merlin. But where Merlin’s safety and comfort is concerned, they never fight. It is Merlin who dictates where he feels the safest, whose side he wants to stay at for a while. It is Merlin who decides where he will run when he’s upset. They never fight about it. It’s always concern—what can they do to help? When was the last time he ate? Does he want to talk about what happened? Merlin notices it the first time Arthur accidentally walks in on him lying in Gwaine’s arms and there’s nary a barb tossed between them before Arthur is softly asking if he’s allowed to stay too and Gwaine tucking him into the embrace alongside them.

“Did you two finally learn how to get along?”

“Only for you, Merlin,” Gwaine says quietly, “only for you.”

And yes, there are absolutely nights where Merlin shakes more than he usually does or one of the visiting knights makes the mistake of cuffing him where they can see and they all end up piled into Arthur’s chambers. After the knight’s been humiliated on the training field by every single one of them and blacklisted from any future tournaments.

Merlin doesn’t always ask for them, but when he does, everyone drops everything. That’s the unspoken agreement. Merlin so much as sniffles and their afternoon plans are dust. Arthur will never forget the day Percival swept into his chambers with Merlin in his arms, the other knights in a guard of honor as Merlin threw his arms around Arthur’s neck.

“Shh, shh,” Arthur murmurs, lowering them to the ground as Leon tells the guards to leave them be, “you’re safe, I won’t hurt you, you’re alright.”

That’s a promise.

So yes, Arthur thought it couldn’t get worse.

As always, leave it to his father to make everything worse.

Merlin is missing. Arthur strides out of his chambers before the guards even realize the doors have been thrown open. Merlin is missing and that’s all that matters. His armor clanks loudly in the hallway and the other people jump to the side to get out of his way.

Good.

He knocks on the door of Gaius’s chambers. Gaius looks at him like he’s just grown another head. It doesn’t matter. Where is Merlin?

“I thought he was with you, sire.”

Merlin is missing. He leaves with strict instructions to find him whenever Merlin turns up. He stalks to the armory and runs into Elyan and Percival. Where is Merlin?

“Haven’t seen him,” Elyan mutters, already rushing off, “I’ll ask Gwen.”

Percival falls into step behind him as they hustle down the corridor. Leon comes out of one of the halls and immediately assumes a position on Arthur’s left.

“What is it, sire?”

“Where is Merlin?”

Leon doesn’t say another word. If all the guards decide to flatten themselves against the wall as the three of them go by, that’s their business.

They find Gwaine muttering curses as he storms toward the tournament grounds.

“Where is Merlin?”

“If the way Godefroy was looking at him is any indication—“ and they’re already seeing red— “then we need to move.”

No need to tell them twice.

Arthur leads the charge down to the door. He throws it open and all the training knights freeze. He glares around at them, looking for Merlin, Merlin, you’re not Merlin.

“Godefroy,” comes Leon’s clipped voice, “where?”

“This way.” They turn to see Lancelot stalking toward the training ground, the other recruits parting like smoke as they storm forward.

Arthur feels it before he hears it.

Smack!

The other knights are caught in the maze of weapon racks as Arthur darts through the armory.

“Stupid, worthless boy, needs to be taught a lesson.”

Smack!

The wounded yelp makes him push faster. He rounds the corner and—

Godefroy. On top of Merlin. His hand raises to smack him again. Merlin on his back. Hands up. Defending but not defending enough.

His teeth are not bared.

His expression is resigned.

He does not spit in the knight’s face.

The knight moves to strike him again.

Not on my goddamn watch.

“Get your hands off him,” Arthur snarls, the blade singing as he pulls it from the scabbard, “get your hands off him!”

Godefroy looks up. “He’s just a servant, he needs to be disciplined properly.”

“You must not have heard me—“ why is he still too far away?— “I told you to get off of him.”

Godefroy rolls his eyes but complies, because Arthur is the prince and his word is law but that doesn’t mean the knight has to agree.

Merlin doesn’t move.

Arthur snarls again, readying his sword for an attack only for Godefroy to stand there, not readying himself for the blow.

“How dare you strike him,” he spits, “how dare you raise a hand to him.”

Godefroy says nothing.

“Are you too much of a coward to defend yourself?” Arthur hefts the sword. “Are you?”

“Arthur,” comes a steel voice from the other end of the hall, “what is the meaning of this?”

He turns.

Uther strides toward him, looking down his nose the way Arthur looks at the muck on his boots. “Surely you have some explanation for your behavior.”

“He hurt Merlin,” Arthur growls, gesturing at—oh, Merlin, why are you still on the floor?

Uther scoffs. “I understand being possessive of your property, but really, Arthur, there’s no need for such childish behavior.”

“Childish—Father, he hurt him.”

“So?”

So?

Fucking so?

“He’s just a servant,” Uther says, waving a dismissive hand, “stop being so dramatic. I’ll get you another one if Godefroy breaks him.”

Godefroy steps around Arthur, looking far too smug, and leaves.

Arthur stands there, panting, as his chest roils with anger too deeply buried to come out as anything other than agony.

This. This is why Merlin didn’t believe him.

Distantly, he hears the other knights rushing down the corridor and he turns, sheathing the sword and crouching, all but ripping off his rough gloves to cradle Merlin’s head in his hands.

“Merlin,” he calls softly, “Merlin, can you hear me?”

Merlin nods, his eyes still a little dazed.

“Good. Try and sit up. Lean on me if you need to.”

By the time Lancelot rushes forward to fall to his knees beside them, Merlin is propped up against Arthur’s shoulder, his head far too red for his liking. Gwaine mutters another curse as the knights spill protectively into the hall.

“Merlin,” Lancelot calls, “Merlin?”

Merlin shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” he corrects, taking Merlin’s hand, “it’s really not.”

“It’s better me than someone else.”

Arthur buries his head in Merlin’s neck. Because Merlin’s right.

How many other servants have had to go through this? How many people has the mighty wheel of Uther Pendragon crushed underneath its weight? How many times has he turned the corner into a hallway where someone was beaten just for being a servant?

Merlin has him. Merlin has the knights. Merlin has Gaius. Merlin will be protected because they know about Merlin.

Who don’t they know about?

“This stops,” he grits out, “right now.”

“You can’t stop everyone,” Merlin mumbles, still slumped against Arthur, “you can’t, Arthur.”

“I’m the Crown Prince of Camelot,” Arthur says, holding Merlin tightly, “if I decide that there need to be consequences for actions, there will damn well be consequences.”

There are.

Merlin is shuttled back to his chambers with Lancelot and Elyan. Gwaine and Percival return to the training grounds with twin looks of determination. Arthur and Leon go straight to the steward.

The steward blinks up at them, clearly taken aback by the question. “I’m terribly sorry, sire, would you mind asking one more time?”

“The servants,” Arthur says, “how many of them are mistreated? How are they mistreated? I want to know.”

“Well, sire…all of them.” The steward fiddles with a stack of paper, moving it aside so he can lean on his elbows. “They do not have…there is not the power to protect them the way there is to protect you or the knights.”

“And how do we give them that power?”

“Come again, sire?”

“They are people,” Arthur says firmly, Leon’s unwavering presence at his side, “they are people and they should be treated as such. How do we ensure that happens?”

“W-well, sire,” the steward says slowly, “any large reforms would need the consent of the King. But there are…there are smaller ways that we can arrange for their treatment to…improve.”

“Such as?”

The steward looks at him strangely. “Forgive me, sire, but…I did not expect this behavior from you.”

Arthur shifts in the chair. “Perhaps I’ve been refusing to look for too long.”

“It is an admirable shift, sire.”

“It’s common decency. Now what do we do?”

Some knights start finding it hard to run into servants in the hallways. Some knights don’t receive chambers with proper insulation. Some knights are beaten down on the training ground over and over. Some knights find it impossible to stay.

Some knights figure out what’s going on quickly. Some knights have kind words and soft questions and thank-yous. Some knights start to push back when they see another knight be too brash, too rough, too callous.

Some knights get it. Some knights don’t.

Those that don’t either leave fast or learn faster.

Godefroy finds himself the training dummy, pelted with arrows, clubs, staffs. The other knights find he has grown cocky over sparring with whatever servants have been dragged out to the field and do not hide their interest when Leon offers to help him regain some of his prowess.

He never gets within five feet of Merlin again.

Uther is beside himself, wondering where all his servants have gone, where all his knights are going, and why no one else seems to be the least bit concerned about it. Arthur smiles privately to himself as he watches the steward explain calmly that if he wants to know what’s going on with the servants, perhaps he could try talking to them.

“After all, sire, servants are people too.”

#merthur #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #fic #dragonbabbles

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isoldmysoultojonahclemence · 3 years

Text

JONAH’S EVER AFTER ON IKEREV TW

I CAN’T I--

HIS RELEASE CAMPAIGN CAME OUT YESTERDAY BUT I ONLY SAW IT A FEW MINUTES AGO BC I WAS ON VACATION I CAN’T BELIEVE I MISSED THIS WHAT KIND OF JONAH STAN AM I

THIS MEANS THAT JONAH’S ROUTE CAMPAIGN WILL BEGIN SOMEWHERE AROUND LATE OCTOBER OR EARLY NOVEMBER IN THE ENGLISH VERSION SO MARK YOUR CALENDARS

I’m putting the rest of this under a cut for length bc I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY

[Translation:

“On the 1 in a hundred million chance that I cannot marry you into the Clemence family, then I’m prepared to abandon my family.”

Whether it’s to build a family together, or to receive happiness together. For the one you love, the path you should take to the future is...

“You’re really too much. Don’t say something like...I’m sorry.”

The eyes that are brighter than the fireworks in the sky overflow with tears, and turn into strength to overcome the mirror blocking our path.

“When it’s only the two of us, I’m just Jonah...and I want to spoil you as much as I like.”]

ASDFKJWEIH;KAFJJE;LSAKFSD

I CAN ALREADY SENSE THE ABSOLUTE ANGST IN THIS ROUTE

IN HIS ORIGINAL ROUTE HE HAS TO ABANDON THE RED ARMY AND NOW IN HIS EVER AFTER HE HAS TO ABANDON HIS FAMILY TOO????? ESPECIALLY AS WE ALL KNOW HOW MUCH THE CRIMSON LINEAGE MEANS TO HIM??????????????????

And something I also really like is how the themes from the original route extends into his sequel, like the parts about “never apologizing” and “I can only be myself when I’m with you.” It just makes it feel more like a sequel and adds a better sense of completion uwu

ALSO JONAH’S TEARS ARE GOING TO DESTROY ME Y’ALL WILL SEE ME SOBBING ON TUMBLR WHEN I GET TO THAT PART

Here’s the mini talk list:

Luka + Sirius: please tell me about your families!

This one is already out, so here’s the screenshots!

[Translation:

Sirius: My home is always full of flowers, it’s a place that makes your mood lift.

Luka: Yeah...as opposed to Sirius’s family, mine was very quiet.

Luka: Even though it had always been pretty quiet...but ever since “that person” left home, it became even quieter.

Luka: Maybe it was because my family weren’t interested in me, so that’s why it feels so quiet.

Sirius: Haven’t you ever had experiences of playing noisily with Jonah in your home before?

Luka: No. We’re different from Sirius’s family...but there was only one time.

Luka: When I was young, that person had brought me out secretly before.

Luka: The both of us ran around and played in the secret courtyard that person found...

Luka: Until the skies grew dark.

Sirius: ...Is that so. Where is that courtyard full of memories? Is it close to your home?

Luka: I don’t know, I can’t remember...but, it doesn’t matter if I can’t remember it.

Luka: Now I think...it’s alright if that courtyard only exists in my memory.]

*deep breath*

ALKL;KCVKNCKDSA;KWOIWQOIK;FDMX;LZDS;ALKSJFA;LKJ

AKD;XJCEWQ8RJEIU;ANFVDFJSVVF’WDOIJ

;NWEFFKKGDMZXCKCERTIIUIBRI;JDSFJSMF;JLAEKF;LEQKJBNCM

FIRST OF ALL

A SECRET COURYARD???????? THAT JONAH FOUND?????????????? AND BROUGHT LUKA THERE TO PLAY???????????????????????? BUT ONLY ONCE???????????????????????????????????

I wonder how he managed to find it? But also it was to be expected that he would bring Luka bc he always wants to share what he loves with Luka (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Also just imagine the little Clemence bros running around and playing (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ ♡ ♡

But like...

OH MY GOD LUKA WHAT HAVE YOU GONE THROUGH ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

It’s so sadddddddd to think that the Clemence house got even quieter when Jonah left. Also I can’t figure out if Jonah “leaving” means that he left to go to boarding school or if he left to join the Red Army, but that was probably when Luka started to hate Jonah for abandoning him. I can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up in such a quiet and cold place and to have it grow even quieter and colder when the one person you thought cared about you left because now he has other things that are more important than you (/□＼*)・゜

Edgar + Kyle: can love between people of different social statuses exist?

The rest of these aren’t released at the moment I wrote this, so I’m mainly just going to be addressing my predictions!

So it’s clear that Jonah and MC are considered to be from different social ranks, even though MC is “Alice the Second” and has the power to nullify magic. She’s probably considered as a “commoner” in the Red Territory, so I can see why it would be difficult for Jonah and MC to get married.

And you know what else this reminds me of??? If we look at Seth’s route, we finally find out that the whole reason Cradle got divided into two was because a Red noble fell in love with a girl from a different social rank. And that romance tore a country apart, so.

Dean + Dalim: about family

Aight here we go. Are Dean and Dalim really family??? Do we finally get to find out??? Or at least get some sort of clue??? Bc I’m torn between the theory that they’re twins with amnesia or if Dean was some sort of clone created by the Magic Tower when they experimented on Dalim. And I have no idea when their routes are gonna be released, so I really hope we get more hints throughout each Ever After route.

Lancelot: Jonah’s tears

THIS IS THE SECOND MINI TALK THAT WILL DESTROY ME AFTER THE LUKA + SIRIUS ONE.

Also this is a reminder that Lancelot was probably the only one who has seen Jonah at his weakest before MC came along. It’s probably to be expected, since they’ve known each other for literally more than half their lives and also since Lancelot saved Jonah.

And technically Luka has known Jonah for the longest time, but I doubt that Jonah will ever show weakness in front of Luka because he considers himself as Luka’s protector, but it’s different in front of Lance. I feel like he can show his weaker side to Lance, and it just emphasizes how deep the relationship between them is.

SO GET READY FOR THE JONALOT FEELS WHEN THIS ONE COMES OUT.

Jonah: what is your ideal proposal?

OK I feel like this one is either gonna be super romantic or super cheesy. Or both, considering the type of person that Jonah is. But I’m gonna love it no matter what bc 1) Jonah can make even the most embarrassing situations funny and touching and 2) I’m too weak for my mille-feuille boi.

The screenshots for the “Peek at Romance” thing is here:

[Translation:

My dear Queen of Hearts, Jonah Clemence.

Jonah: In that party, every heir of the Clemence family will...

Jonah: Publicly introduce his fiancee, receive the acknowledgment and blessing of the whole clan, and finally step into the halls of marriage.

“What is a happy ending?”

--It’s when, the person who cannot be replaced becomes family.

Luka: Even though my brother is troublesome, and sometimes overly enthusiastic, but from now on please take care of him.

--It’s when, you become allies with the person you met.

Levie: Who hurt MC!? I’ll destroy that guy...!

Jonah: Calm down, Levie Castell. See who’s your true enemy clearly!

When he couldn’t provide an answer, it made tears overflow from his eyes.

And--while looking for an answer, it’s also possible to lose something.

Dalim: Thanks. Goodbye, princess.

Dean: I couldn’t ask any of the things I’ve been wondering before he ran...

But even so, we will still advance forward bravely.

This is all to receive the answer--to have a happy ending.

Jonah: From now on, everyone will see you as...

Jonah: The Queen of Heart’s...and also the head of the Clemence family’s wife.

Jonah: But, when there’s no one else, and when it’s just us two.

Jonah: We’ll become Jonah and MC again, and we can love each other as much as we like.

Jonah: I love you, MC.

No matter what happens, he, who is the most beautiful and pure in the world...

Will only accept a future that is even better than a happy ending...!]

I just...literally cannot express my love for this summary.

First of all I’m just gonna talk about the tone. Right off the bat MC calls him “my dear Queen” and it was just. So. CUUUUUUUUUUTE.

Also, the question and theme of “a happy ending” is brought up, and the rest of the sneak peek answers that question (it’s when the people you love become your family and the people you meet becomes your allies), but also explores how they could find those answers (Jonah crying when he couldn’t find an answer and advancing forward bravely because they just want their happy ending). And finally we finish it off with a super Jonah-like statement, announcing that he’ll accept no less than the most perfect ending of them all!

Moving on to the information revealed...it’s pretty cool how there’s a special party for the next head of the Clemence family when they’re ready to announce their marriage and gain approval. Also, it’s kinda wild to think that Jonah will eventually become a head of the family just like his father and his grandfather before that.

AND THE PART WITH LUKA AND LEVIE ARE LITERALLY SO ADORABLE. LIKE, LUKA INSULTING JONAH BUT ALSO LEAVING HIM TO MC AND LEVIE DEFENDING MC FROM PPL WHO WOULD HARM HER IS 10/10 PERFECT

Also it seems that Dean and Dalim’s backstories might be explored more but won’t be resolved just yet. I guess we really do have to wait until their routes get released to find out.

In short, this was an amazing summary of the route. WHY DO I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER MONTH UNTIL I CAN FINALLY READ THE WHOLE THING???????????????????????????

Also FYI, this is all completely new to me. For the other characters’ sequels, I played it through on Ikerev JP bc I can’t wait until the releases in the TW and English version that’s like, a year later. But I didn’t read Jonah’s sequel bc my Japanese isn’t super good and I wanted to read my man’s story in a language that I can completely understand so I literally have no idea of what to expect apart from what I found out in the campaign release :3

Also also I’m probably gonna be posting for every part in the story I’m going through BC I JUST LOVE JONAH THAT MUCH. I guess it would make up for my inactivity this month ^^;

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #jonah clemence #ikerev jonah #jonah's sequel #ever after #i SCREECHED when i saw the announcement #no joke #i thought it would only come out during september #so that was definitely a pleasant surprise #i need to quickly stock up on story tickets this month #i only have around 45 rn #which means i can only read 9 parts at once #THAT IS SIMPLY NOT ENOUGH

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