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ssa-atlas-alvez · 10 months

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okay but cowboy!reader taking jj horseback riding when they visit his parents town for a case. they don't come back to his parents house (where they're all staying- readers mom wouldn't take no for an answer) until the early morning and the team teases them about it the next morning over homemade breakfast. reader is all blushey about it because he just genuinely lost track of time showing jj around and jj just isn't phased by the teasing. buddy distracting everyone from the conversation by finally getting fed bacon.

- 🦦

PART ONE (this can be read alone, but it starts the day after part one)

Description: Being close to home, the team finally get to meet reader's family. Things start out great and then... Not so much. Reader makes sure his younger brother knows that despite what their parents have said, he's still there for them.

Warning: homophobia, someone nearly says the f-slur twice (they don't say the whole thing, reader puts them in their place), mentions of going to conversion therapy, pro-conversion therapy views, being kicked out because of sexuality, unaccepting parents, unaccepting sibling (Jason's a bit of a dick and I stand by that). I think that's everything.

A/N: Sorry if this seems rushed at all aha (it's like 3k words but idk worried it's rushed). Also just to clarify I'm against conversion therapy (i'm saying it as a just in case it needs to be said).

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas

You all met in the lobby at nine the next morning, you winced, seeing the appearance of the rest of the team, “Y’all okay?”

“No,” They groaned simultaneously.

“Alright, well, breakfast is on me,” You chuckled, “And I’ll drive so you can all sleep on the way there,” You held back a laugh as they all relaxed in relief (well, minus Rossi and Hotch who always made sure to be relatively simple with their drinking).

It wasn't a long drive, two hours max, before you arrived home. When you got out of the car, you drew in a deep breath, childhood memories rushing in. You had missed his place. You tried to get back as much as you could, for holidays and birthdays, but it never felt enough.

“Hi Mama!” You cheered, walking towards her with a grin.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing with your shoes on?” She raised her eyebrows, putting her hands on her hips. “Boy you know you need to take them off when you get in!” Alice, your Mama, looked up, seeing the panicked look of the team, she continued, “Oh, y'all don't need to worry your pretty little faces about it, (Y/N) should have remembered.”

“Sorry Mama,” You responded, quickly taking your shoes off and removing your hat and giving her a kiss on the cheek, “How are y’all?”

“We're all okay, son,” A gruff voice sounded through the room.

“Pops!” You grinned, giving your father a handshake before a hug. “Where's the squirt?” You asked, looking around.

“I'm not that much smaller than you,” Aden rolled his eyes, you didn’t respond, simply pulling your younger brother into an embrace.

“I didn’t realise he was such a hugger,” Emily smirked slightly as she spoke to your mother.

“Oh, (Y/N)’s always been a hugger,” Alice says, “He’s a complete softy.”

“We could never have known.” Morgan said before continuing, “Especially with all his reckless shoot outs,”

“His what?” Your Pops exclaimed.

“You're such an ass-” You hissed, turning to Morgan with a glare.

“Y/N!” Alice exclaimed.

“Sorry Mama! See y'all come over and now I'm in trouble every few minutes,” You said, turning your attention back to the team.

“Is what this lovely man said true?”

“Yes Mama, but in my defence-”

“Good luck son,” You Pops said, patting your shoulder. “Can I get anyone a drink? I reckon Alice’ll be chewing him out for a least ten minutes,”

Three minutes into the lecture, the door opened and closed loudly. You turned and saw your older brother, Jason, walk in.

“Well I'll be damned, if it isn't my snotty nosed younger brother!” Your head snapped up and your Mama wrapped up her lecture as you walked towards your brother.

“Jason! How you been?!” You pull him into a tight embrace.

“Not too bad, not too bad.” Jason answered, “Plodding along,”

Your attention switched over to Emily as she cleared her throat, “Oh! Sorry, this is my team. So Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, Emily, JJ, and Reid,”

“I think you only had a younger brother?”

“Oh, er, Jason was Mama and Papa’s first child and then they adopted me and Aden,” You quickly explained.

“I see, don’t mention your least favourite brother, I see how it is,” Jason teased, you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever,” Jason laughed and gently shoved you.

“Ladies, y’all can take the spare room,” You said, “Gents, y’all can take my room. Aden, you lucky thing, get me sleepin on your floor,” Aden groaned loudly, causing the team to chuckle.

You had a few hours to settle down and you showed the team around, showing them who’s room was who’s, by the time you were settled, you were being told that it was time for dinner. And soon enough you were all sat around the table.

"Mrs (L/N), we were wondering if you had any good stories on young y/n here?" Derek asks with a grin.

Your face pales as your Mama smile, "Mama, that's not really necessary-"

“Nonsense! Your team wants to learn more about you,” She gave you a smile, patting your cheek. You found yourself sinking in your chair. “Sit up straight,”

“Yes Ma’am,” You turned to Morgan, “I’ll get you back for this,” You mumbled, turning to your mashed potatoes.

“We used to have this horse, Cinnamon,” You Mama started and you found yourself groaning in embarrassment.

“You don’t even know what story Mama’s going to tell,” Jason pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter, they’re all embarrassing,” You mumbled.

“He used to sneak out at night to sleep in her stable,” Your Mama began.

"Which would have been adorable if he wasn't sixteen," Jason snorted, you groaned loudly.

"Can you not embarrass me in front of my colleagues?"

"You do that yourself," Aden chimed in with a smirk.

“Kid, don’t test me-”

“Whatever, you’re an old man now,” Aden shot back. “Has (Y/N) told you about the time he got escorted out of a rodeo for threatenin’ the judges?”

“Oh god, I forgot about that!” You groaned loudly, placing your head in your hands as your team laughed loudly.

When night time rolled around, you parted ways with your team. The men heading to one room, the ladies heading to the other. You and Aden made your way to his room. You set up the sleeping bag and laid down. Eventually, Aden hopped into his bed, turning off his lamp and leaving you both in darkness.

“Which one is the one you have a crush on?” Aden asked you, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“The one you message me about,”

“Oh, JJ,” You said. “The blonde one without glasses,”

“Oh, she’s pretty.” Aden said, “You should totally ask her out.”

“Not that simple I’m afraid kid,” You sighed, “We work together.”

“No, it is that simple, grown ups just complicate everything for no reason.” You paused, taking in his words. He did have a point, (sort of).

“I guess.” You shrugged, “I dunno, guess I’m scared of rejection.”

“That would make sense,” Aden shrugged, “Given our past n all,”

“Dr Aden over here,” You joked.

Aden paused for a moment, shifting so he could look at you, “I think I wanna be a profiler when I’m older,”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Aden gave a small smile, “I think I could help do some good.”

“Aw, you wanna be just like you’re big brother,” You teased before sobering up, “I think you’d be good at it,”

“Really?” You smiled as his face lit up.

“Definitely, you got a smart brain in there, kid.”

“Thanks!” Aden laid back down, the pair of you smiling softly to yourselves. Silence took over for a few seconds. “Y/N can I tell you something?” Aden asked into the darkness.

“Sure, kid, what's up?”

There was a small pause, before Aden’s voice laced with anxiety piped up, “Promise it won't make you hate me?”

“Nothing you say would make me hate you, kiddo.” You said strongly. “Ever.”

“I- I like boys, I'm gay.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Kid, that's okay. You're allowed to like boys, there's nothing wrong with it.” You reassured, Aden breathed a sigh of relief.

“I wanna tell Mama and Pops, could you wait close by in case it goes badly?”

“Of course, but I'm sure it'll go okay. When did you want to tell them?”

“Hmm… Two days time? I feel like that gives me some prep time.”

“Okay kid,” You said, “Now get some sleep,”

“A’right, night, (Y/N),”

“Night Aden,” You said, “Love you kid,”

“You too,” He yawned.

JJ opening the door and chiming a ‘good morning’ is what woke you at eight am the next morning. Normally, you would have been mad, having been woken up so early. But seeing JJ smile at you seemed to put the world right.

“Mornin’,” You replied, your voice deep from sleep. “You sleep well?”

“You betcha cowboy,” She responded with a twinkle in her eyes, you huffed a laugh. “Your mum says breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.”

Both you and Aden sat up at the mention of food. “We’ll be right down.” Aden said. When JJ had left, Aden turned back to you. “Where’s Buddy?”

“Sleeping in Mama and Pops’ room, apparently they’ve missed him more than me,” Aden gave a laugh as he left the room.

After breakfast, you sat on your couch, staring out the window into your backyard when JJ sat next to you. “You know, when you were talking about your childhood yesterday, I realised something.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never ridden a horse before,”

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep a variety of different jokes in your head - reminding yourself that it wasn’t the time or the place.

“Never?” You asked instead, and she shook her head.

“Nope, not once.”

“Would you like to? We’ve got horses,” You said, “I’m sure Mama and Pops won’t mind. I could even show you around a bit.”

JJ looked at you before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” She gave you a smile.

When you both got back it dark, you put both the horses back in the stables, following the usual steps (picking out the hooves and such) before you gave them an apple each and thanked them (something you always did after a ride). With that, you made your way back into the house.

“Well hey there stud,” Is what greeted you. You stared at Morgan, jaw dropped. “You two kids have been out a while,”

“I showed her around town,” You explained, feeling an awful lot like a teenager who stayed out past curfew.

“Uh-huh,” Penelope chimed, folding her arm.

“Hey, hey now,” You responded, “I just showed her around town, I showed her where I went to school, things like that.”

“Just ignore them,” JJ replied, giving you a smile, “They clearly don’t have anything better to do.”

“You wound me with your words,”

“Children, stop arguing,” Your Mama chimed, “Agent Rossi and Agent Hotchner has helped me cook dinner.”

“Rossi and Hotch are gonna be your new dads,” Morgan teased, you grabbed the closest pillow, throwing it at his head.

And soon enough, you were all sat around the table eating. “I’m just saying,” Aden said, he, Morgan, Prentiss, and Garcia grinning at you, “It’s a bit suspicious that you only took JJ out.”

You opened your mouth to argue when you witnessed Buddy stand on his hind legs and steal some bacon off of Morgan’s plate.

"Buddy!" Your eyes are wide as Buddy runs off with all of Morgan's bacon. "I am so sorry-!" You explain before running after him. "Buddy I thought we were trying a raw diet?!"

Buddy barked and your jaw dropped, "Don't take that tone with me, Mister."

“And on that note, I think we should all call it a night,” Your Pops said with a chuckle.

A few hours later, you laid back in your sleeping bag in the dark, “I think I’m going to tell them tomorrow.” Aden said thoughtfully, “I want it over with.”

“A’right kid,” You said, “I’ll be there,”

“I know, you’re always there when I need you,” Aden sat up to give you a smile, “Except for that time when you were too busy getting to know Rosie-”

“Hey, you told me you were fine, don’t open that can of worms kid-” Aden cut you off with a fit of laughter and soon enough you joined in. “You damn near gave me a heart attack with that.”

“That’s because you’re an old man.” You gasped dramatically.

“How dare you!”

“Boys you better go to sleep!” You heard your Mama exclaim through the door and you both struggled to keep your laughter quiet.

It was JJ that woke you that morning as well (something you could quite happily get used to). When she left, once again the pair of you got ready for the day.

“I think I might tell Mama and Pops before breakfast. I want to get it over with.”

“A’right, kiddo, I’ll be right outside, okay?” You reassured and he nodded. You gathered our clothes, getting dressed in the bathroom whilst Aden got changed in the bedroom. And then the pair of you walked downstairs, you waiting outside the kitchen door in the living room whilst Aden walked inside.

It had only been two minutes when Morgan approached you. “You good?” Morgan asked, seeing you standing in the living room staring intently at the kitchen door. You turned to him and gave a nod.

“Yeah, Aden wanted me close while he tells Mama and Pops something.” You answered, giving Morgan a small smile, “He was a bit nervous,”

The door flew open and closed again, looking at you for a split second before flinging his arms around you as he gave a small sob. “Kid? Kiddo, what's wrong?” You asked, rubbing circles on his back.

“You were wrong, it wasn't okay.” Aden cried.

“What’d they say?”

“That it’s wrong and I need conversion therapy.” Aden’s answer was short but made your stomach drop.

“Aden, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you. What they say don't matter, you hear me? They're bigots.” Your eyes flicked up to JJ, Emily, Penelope, and Spencer as they wandered in, concerned, “Why don't yall go pack some stuff, okay? 'm gonna talk to Mama and Pops, okay?”

You waited until Aden was out of the room before you walked in, “Y’all wanna tell me what the fuck you just said to that kid? He's crying his eyes out.”

“We told him the truth.” Your Mama answered.

“Really and what would that be?” You asked, folding your arms.

“That we don't want the likes of him under this roof.” Your Pops is the one who answered this time.

“The likes of him?”

“He's a homosexual!” Your Pops exclaimed, his face slowly starting to turn red.

“He's your son.” You stated.

“He's a fa-”

“Don't you even fuckin call him that again, you hear me?” You exclaimed, “I don't care if you're our pops, you call him that again I knock you out, understood?”

“We're your parents,” Your Mama exclaimed, “Where's your respect?”

“Funny enough, Ma, my respect left the minute you told my baby brother that the only way he would be accepted in this household is if he changed himself.”

“How are you defendin’ him?” She asked.

“There's nothing wrong with being gay.” You scoffed loudly, were they really so blatantly homophobic?

“It's disgustin’!”

“He's your son-”

“He's a sinner.”

“He’s a fourteen year old boy!” You could feel yourself starting to lose your temper.

“We've told him he can stay if he goes to conversion therapy.”

“Then he's leavin’. I'll look after him.” You state.

“You want him? Take him. We don't want a fa-” You don’t realise you’re reacting until you’re swinging. You hear a slight crunch as it hits his nose, you ignore it. You also ignore the pain that flashes through your hand on impact.

“I told you not to fuckin’ talk about my brother like that.” You state, pointing harshly at him. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about him like that.”

“(Y/N), You need to step out of the room,” You didn’t even realise Derek was in the room, until his fingers are wrapping around your shoulders in an attempt to pull you out of the room. You quickly shrug his arm off you.

“Y’all don't deserve a kid like Aden,” You leave the room, wanting nothing more than to go back in there and talk some sense into them. Instead you force yourself shoulders back, force yourself to take a deep breath and turn to Aden, “Come on kid, let's go. You okay with stayin’ with me for a while?”

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, walking into the room.

You turned to Aden, waiting until he nodded before you continue, “Aden just told Ma and Pops he’s gay and they told him to go to conversion therapy.”

Jason nods, “Good, it’ll help him.”

You scoff loudly, “You know what? I was so fuckin’ wrong about this family. Come on, Aden, we’re goin’,”

“You wait in the car, we’ll round up the others,” JJ said, placing her hand on your arm as she gives you a small smile. Aden follows you with his head down, hands in front as he anxiously picked at his nails.

You opened the passenger door for him, motioning for him to get in (the others could make do in the back for now, you needed to check on your brother). “Whatchya thinkin’?”

“I screwed all this up,” Aden whispers, “(Y/N)- I’m so sorry,”

“What? Hey, no,” Your answer is immediate, “Kid you did nothin’ wrong.”

“But now Mama and Pops don’t want anything to do with us, it’s just us.” Aden said, “I screwed it all up and now we’re back to square one.”

“Hey, no.” You keep your voice firm, “You did nothin’ wrong, what you told them is perfectly acceptable. It’s them that has the problem, a’ight? If that’s a make or break deal, then so be it.”

“But-”

“Kid, I would choose you over anyone, any day.” You said, “You’re my brother, which means you’re stuck with me for life. You hear me? I would rather have no one and still have you than have everyone without you,”

“But I-”

“You did nothin’ wrong.” You answer strongly.

“(Y/N)-”

“No, kid, I won’t have you thinking anything bad about yourself because of this,”

“I was just going to say that I think you need to go to the hospital,” He said, pointing to your hand, which was already bruising and beginning to swell.

“I’ll be fine,” You said, shrugging him off.

“Did you punch him?”

“Yep,” You replied, not one to lie to your brother, even about something like this. “He said some unacceptable things.”

“About me?”

“Yeah, kid. So I broke his nose.”

“I think you also broke your hand,” Aden pointed out.

“I did not break my hand.”

“Prove it.”

“How can I even prove that?”

“Straighten your hand.”

You stared at him, “Fine.” You begin to straighten your hand out, “Okay, you’re right,”

Rossi opened the door, “What’s the kid right about?”

“He broke his hand,” You stared at him in disbelief. “What? You weren’t gonna tell him.” You huffed.

“To the hospital we go,” Hotch chimed, motioning for you and Aden to move into the back so he and Rossi could sit up front with him driving.

“Sir-”

“We don’t want to hear it,” Rossi said, you huffed once more glaring at Morgan as he laughed.

And that’s how you ended up with a cast on your hand and a scowl.

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the-once-and-future-love · 1 year

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26. Good Merlin Fics I've Read Recently (4/2/23)

A Fall We Can't Forget by BlueGrassSax

Disguise by diner_drama

Flashflame by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf [mergwenthur]

Fruition (or The Education of Arthur) by orphan_account

His Most Treasured Possession by Zaharya

Human Touch by Oriberry

I am who I am and I am who I was and I am who I will always be by Pearl09

If I Couldn't Run To You, I'd Crawl by ironfamjam

like a purple robe by astranix [gen]

My Breath In Your Lungs by Zaharya

River-Bright by whatthedruidscallme

Silvery by acciomerlin

stained with the colour of roses by TheCourtSorcerer

the answer’s in the second before the other shoe drops by voidbound

That Burning Torch of Kingship by Imagined

The Book of Merthur by horsecrazy

The Inherent Limitations of Words by Imagined

The Kingcraft of Arthur Pendragon by SauraUnderscore

The Potion by Sorceressofdragons

The stakes are high, the water's rough (but this love is ours) by aliciajazmin

To Be Fools Prepared by pyrrhical (anoyo)

Turn Again to Life by kay_roswell

Will You Search Through The Lonely Earth For Me? by Camelittle, Merlocked18

What Have Kings by antonomasia09 [gen]

#merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #fic recs #fic rec list #bbcmerlin #merlin bbc #emrys #fic rec #arthur x merlin #merlin and arthur #mergwenthur

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dawn-moths · 2 years

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“Weekend in Paradise”

Howl Pendragon x Female Reader

word count: 4,900+

(Every year for your anniversary, you and Howl take a weekend trip to some quaint, romantic little town to see some sights, try the local cuisine, and be reminded how lucky you two were to fall in love.)

disclaimer/content warning: no explicit smut, mostly just tender kisses, established relationship, this is just pure romantic devotion because i’m sad and need something soft and non-angsty right now.

*ao3 mirror*

***

“How do I look?” you asked as you gave a graceful twirl, the long skirt of your dress furling out around you in a cascade of pastel yellow, your giggles filling the room like rays of warm sunlight. You held your beautiful new hat to your head, the one with the white silk ribbon tied around the base, ending your spin with a small curtsy.

“Gorgeous, as always,” Howl replied smoothly with that signature charming smile of his as he walked towards you, pulling you in close to his side for a gentle embrace. You turned to face him, nuzzling your cheek closer into his chest, reaching up to loosely drape your arms over his shoulders, your grin widening with glee. He asked you, “Have you packed everything? Need any more help?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I have everything,” you responded, pulling away just enough to look up into his crystal blue eyes, his gaze as clear and sure as the late spring skies. “But what about you?” you then continued with a teasing lilt. “You’ve been packing for days, it seems. Weeks, even!”

Howl let out a soft chuckle, beginning to guide you out of the room with one arm still lovingly secured around your waist. “I think I’ve narrowed it down,” he joked. In the main living area, at the top of the short staircase leading to the front door, sat his suitcase which still appeared to be bursting at the seams with how many clothes he’d managed to shove inside.

You’d jokingly warned him he better not use magic to make more fit. Knowing Howl, he’d try to take his entire closet with him, if he thought he could get away with it.

And so you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you’d heard him grumbling under his breath when he’d first began trying to pack about how he wasn’t sure which shirts or coats or shoes to bring with him because he wasn’t sure what mood he’d be in during your trip.

You’d just shaken your head at him, hands on your hips as a smile spread across your face.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” you’d tried to reason with him. “We’re only going away for a weekend. Just pick a couple options and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, but you don’t understand!” he’d sighed dramatically, running his bejeweled-ring adorned fingers through his silky shoulder length hair. “Who knows what the weather will be like and, not to mention accounting for any spontaneous activities we encounter on the way!”

You couldn’t help yourself from laughing, covering your mouth with one hand as if that would hide your amusement at his theatrics. “You’re going to end up being severely overdressed, aren’t you?” you asked.

Howl wore a playful smirk, then lifted a finger to accentuate his point when he replied, “Ah, but you see, even for something as simple as a picnic in the park, there’s no such thing as being overdressed, so long as you look your very best.”

You rolled your eyes, strolling over to help him shut his suitcase, in the end having to sit on top of it while he used a bit of magic to smush the rest down, tugging the zipper with nearly enough strength to snap the poor thing off in order to close it.

He’d pecked you on the cheek then, muttering a quiet, “Thank you, dear,” before helping you down from off the mountain of his packed belongings.

He did this every year, which you reminded him of— that on your anniversary vacation he always tended to get carried away.

But at least now that it was time to depart he’d seemed to have made up his mind.

“Oh, are you guys leaving now?” Markl asked as he popped his head around the corner, having come down from his room to see the two of you off.

“Indeed we are, Markl!” Howl responded to the boy triumphantly, walking towards his apprentice with his hands on his hips. “Are you and Calcifer going to be alright running things while we’re gone?”

“We’ll be fine…” Calcifer droned from his place at the hearth, flames glowing bright. “As long as Markl makes sure I have enough firewood, at least…”

“I already told you,” the boy remarked with indignance. “I’ll bring you firewood every morning and every night!”

Howl rustled the little boy’s auburn hair, causing his frown and scowl to fade back into a smile. “I’m counting on you to hold down the fort until we return, alright, Markl?”

Markl gave a playful solute, ensuring the wizard his castle was in good hands.

Howl then turned and addressed you when he heard you begin to pull your suitcase closer to the door, assuring you that you didn’t need to trouble yourself and that he’d get it for you.

“We’ll be late,” you informed him with an almost guilty smile, hating to hurry his goodbyes along, but, well…

If you didn’t keep an eye on the clock then no one would.

“Alright, everyone!” Howl called to his apprentice and fire demon, Hin puffing out a wheeze of a bark from his resting place under the table. “Take care and we’ll see you soon!” He then came to grab both of your suitcases, heading towards the door with you trailing after him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Calcifer muttered passive-aggressively as he grabbed another piece of the firewood that was stacked beside him. “You two just go galavanting about while I stay here and do all the work!”

“Oh, don’t be upset,” you smiled over your shoulder at the fire demon as Howl turned the colored dial on the door to a new one he’d added just last week, one that was a light lavender shade. “I’ll bring you back a souvenir. I hear they make the most delicious macarons in the town we’re visiting!”

That made the fire demon soften up a little, trying to suppress a bashful grin as he replied, “Well, alright… Maybe if you bring me back a few…”

And with that, you and Howl departed, the door swinging open to reveal a quaint little sea-side town as you turned to give one final wave to Markl who waved back and wished you both safe travels with a beaming grin.

***

It was a sunny day— a perfect day— and the early afternoon light sparkled off the surface of the calm sea, a scattered line of sailboats gently swaying on the horizon. The village was quiet, peaceful, the sounds of a few seagulls cawing to each other overhead as they glided under the cotton candy clouds harmonizing with the whisper of the water lightly rocking against the cliff sides and a sweet melody of a guitar being strummed somewhere in the distance. The warm spring breeze was just gentle enough to make your dress and hair drift a little bit in the direction that it blew.

“Oh, Howl!” you said through a breath of awe, unable to tear your gaze from the lovely scene. “It’s beautiful! How did you find this place?”

“I just happened upon it a little while back,” he admitted nonchalantly with an elegant shrug, movements always smooth and fluid. “I’ve been saving it for today.”

The two of you began up the hillside, you offering to take your suitcase back and Howl only allowing you to carry it once you told him that you wished to hold hands and you couldn’t do that if he carried both bags. Yours wasn’t heavy, as you’d only packed for two days since you were only going to be gone two days. You couldn’t speak for Howl (who’d probably squeezed a few extra articles of clothing into his bag at the last minute), though you were willing to bet he was using magic to assist him in lugging a generous portion of his wardrobe up towards the pastel cottage-esque bed and breakfast you’d be staying in.

You both checked into the romantic little inn and the man at the front desk handed Howl the key to your room, a little blue ribbon tied in a bow at the end of the shiny gold object.

Howl thanked the man, sliding him a few folded bills as a tip, and then continued down the hall where you both went up a short, spiraling staircase, Howl insisting on carrying your things up the climb. That time, you let him have his way.

Once at the top, he stopped at the door, hesitating. He then turned to you, holding the key out for you to take. “I think you should open it,” he suggested with a calm smile. “There’s a surprise waiting inside.”

Unsure of what you were about to walk into, you slowly took the key from his lithe grasp and went to unlock the door, pushing it open to reveal—

“Oh my gosh, Howl!” you took one step into the room, then two. “How did you— Is this magic? How did you do all this?”

The entire suite was decorated with all kinds of flowers— roses and tulips and orchids— but the majority of them consisted of your favorites, which were white lilies and delicate little bluebells. It complemented the cool tones of the furniture, like moonlight and vanilla, pearls and white wine.

There were little butterflies sculpted and etched into the details of things like the ornate frame around the oval mirror hanging above the fireplace and the headboard of the plush, king-sized bed that was stacked with an array of pillows, the texture of each one slightly different.

“I might’ve used a little,” he admitted as he came to stand beside you, lightly tugging you by the waist back to his side and kissing your forehead when you looked up at him with adoration and bewilderment in your eyes, hands clasped together in front of your chest, almost unable to believe that this place wasn’t a dream. That he wasn’t a dream.

Howl went to set your suitcases by the end of the bed as you took a closer look around, continuing to turn about the room slowly, taking it all in. Eventually you drifted back towards him, your own two feet guiding you back into his arms, guiding you back home.

“Happy anniversary,” Howl spoke in a low, quiet tone. Then he wrapped you up in his comforting embrace, his lips meeting yours for a tender kiss.

“Happy anniversary…” you replied with a lingering smile, foreheads pressed together, lightly nudging your nose to his. Your cheeks already were beginning to burn from how much you’d been smiling, so much joy filling your heart even as your romantic weekend together had barely begun.

“Now…” Howl suggested cooly, going over to pull the sheer curtains away from one set of windows to get a better view of the glittering water just outside and down the hill. He extended a hand to you, gently guiding you towards him so you could admire the scene as well, his chest pressed to your back as he rested his chin on your shoulder as his arms once again wrapped themselves around your waist. His gaze flicked from you to the view before landing back on you. He gave a slightly mischievous grin before asking, “Shall we?”

So, walking arm in arm, the two of you headed out of the beautiful inn where you probably could’ve just stayed all weekend— just you and him amongst the scent of the lilies and bluebells and the quiet crackling of a gentle fire— and headed back into the positively picturesque village, excited to see what else it had in store.

***

You’d been strolling about the town for a couple of hours, always with hands clasped or elbows interlocked, never breaking away from each other’s touch for more than a few seconds. Similar couples passed by as you ventured down the cobblestone streets, staring and pointing out at the sights that you’d just passed or were soon to venture upon.

You’d taken a tour of the nearby beach, collecting some of the little multi-colored pebbles that composed the shore as keepsakes to carry around, finding your favorites and trading ones that you thought each other would like, trying your hand at tossing others into the sea.

When Howl skipped a stone perfectly for the third time in a row, you gave him a look— one that said with playful accusation, “you’re cheating”— and Howl gave you a cheeky wink, pulling another one of those adorable giggles from you that he loved so much.

Then you’d headed towards the square where a fountain with a flawless marble statue of an angelic looking woman playing a mandolin stood ethereally in the center of the clear, flowing water, reflective sunlight glittering like gold dust over the surface, some local children tossing shiny silver coins in and making wishes. You imagined that Markl probably would’ve joined them, had he been here.

“Oh, what’s that?” you asked as you pointed towards some smoke rising from a chimney a few streets down.

“Why don’t we go find out?” Howl asked, whisking you away towards the mystery.

When you came upon the building the chimney belonged to, you saw it was a bakery, the smells of fresh sourdough bread and delectable chocolate pastries wafting outside from the open window. The sign on the door said it was soon to close for the day, but perhaps, if you were lucky, they wouldn’t be sold out of everything just yet.

“After you,” Howl remarked with a graceful nod and the extending of his hand towards the interior as he opened the bakery’s glass door for you, dainty little bells jingling overhead to signal your arrival.

Inside, tiny fairy creatures were painted on the ceiling and ivy plants hung like festival flags from corner to corner. Cupcakes frosted with pastel pinks and purples and blues were spaced evenly behind the glass counter, cute bite sized cheesecakes or single-serving pies placed a little further down. It smelled even better on the inside, the rich fudges and spicy cinnamon and nutmegs of the bakery mingling together in perfect harmony.

“Well, hello there!” a pleasant woman greeted as she walked out from the back room, a few smudges of powdered sugar and caramel drizzles spotting her multi-colored, patchwork apon. “Welcome! What can I help you with today?”

“Oh, well, it all looks so good…” You contemplated as you scanned your options from behind the display case, a finger tapping your chin as you tried to decide. You then looked back to Howl and asked with an eager smile, “What do you think?”

“I think perhaps we ought to choose a few to share,” he replied, kneeling down to get a closer look.

You nodded your head, kneeling down as well. “I think you’re right.”

So, after choosing four of the bakeries freshly made desserts, wishing the woman (who’d been very helpful in recommending the most popular pastries as well as her own personal favorites) a good day, the two of you began to head towards the docks to watch the sunset behind the sailboats and continue to enjoy the fresh air and lovely weather.

But then, just as the sea was coming back into sight, Howl suddenly seemed to have a change of plans.

“I have a better idea,” he announced, his gaze following a couple who was riding down the main path on seafoam green bicycles.

There was a bike rental station right at the corner, only two more left as if they’d been waiting there specifically for you and him.

So, with each of you carrying your desserts in the little wicker baskets attached to the front of the bikes, you took a leisurely ride further through town, venturing to the outskirts where you found a vast, sprawling field dotted with little white daisies nestled between a canopy of maple trees, dappled light freckling you both from between the star-shaped leaves.

You both decided to stop there for an evening picnic, finishing your pastries after Howl summoned a fluffy blue and white checkered blanket and placed it perfectly over the lush grass.

Little yellow butterflies flitted around, occasionally landing on a nearby flower to enjoy a sweet snack of their own, or simply drifting on the breeze. At one point, one of them fluttered over to land on the top of your head, slowly opening and closing its wings as you remained perfectly still.

Howl propped up on his side as he lay across the picnic blanket, admiring the rare moment with so much fondness you could’ve sworn the definition of the word became the color of his eyes.

“Perhaps he was a friend from a past life,” he commented with a soft grin. “He seems to really like you.”

You carefully lifted a finger to where you could feel the delicate creature perched upon you, coaxing it to crawl onto your hand, and when it did you slowly lowered it to your eye level, smiling at the insect dreamily.

“He’s beautiful…” you whispered, afraid if you raised your voice too much it would scare it away.

Howl leaned in a little closer, also moving cautiously on account of the butterfly. “Of course he is,” he began, his azure gaze drifting back to you. “Beauty has a way of finding beauty…”

As the butterfly caught the next soft gust of wind to flutter further into the field of daisies, you met eyes with Howl.

He always knew what to say, but never in a way that felt forced or inauthentic.

When Howl told you things like that, gave you charming compliments, it was always because he truly believed it, meant it from the most honest parts of his heart.

Yet, for some reason, every time he spoke such pretty words to you, it caught you off guard, as if you still weren’t accustomed to such genuine observations.

“Howl…” was all you could sigh out as he closed the gap between the two of you for another kiss, this one more passionate than the soft pecks he’d gifted you thus far, but no less tender. It was the kind that warmed you from the inside out, made you float even further into the fantasy only to remember that this was your reality, however unbelievably perfect.

After you both had gotten your fill of each other’s own unique brand of sweetness, Howl carefully brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze unable to leave you as he murmured, the tiniest twinge of guilt laced into his rich baritone, “I know we just had dessert, but there was technically a dinner reservation booked for us tonight…”

Your eyes, which had been tracking his graceful hands, migrated back to those bewitching blues. Again, you were met with a gaze that made you think— made you know— that you were his entire world. That, even in a place as mesmerizing as this, he would always find you the most entrancing, enticing thing to admire.

He turned a little apologetic then, eyebrows pinched a fraction as his smile fell slightly crooked. “Or, we could just go back to the inn and have a meal there…?”

Now it was your turn to smile, putting him at ease with the soft expression, saying, “We have all night to enjoy the inn…” You took one of his hands in both of yours, studying his long, delicate fingers, too pretty to be as strong and sure as they were. “Let’s go to dinner.”

So you rode your bikes back into town and parked them right outside the restaurant, under the dim glow of a street lantern, the sky just beginning to shift into the navy of night, the last peach hues of the fading day lining the horizon with a thin streak of periwinkle between them.

The path leading to the eatery was lined with glowing, blown glass orbs, flecks of mint green and gold freckling the delicate sculptures and casting speckles of color at your feet as you crossed over the mosaic stones.

Your table was seated outside, facing the ocean, which had gone dark now, the moonlight casting a silvery trim along the waves, a majority of the sailboats docked but a few stray vessels still illuminated and hosting late night patrons who drank wine and traded merriment as they rocked upon the water.

You liked watching them, sneaking glances throughout your meal, the echoes of their joy only furthering your own contentment as you and Howl clinked glasses, toasting to a wonderful first day of your anniversary weekend, what was sure to be a wonderful night to continue.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” Howl eventually asked, catching you staring wistfully at the sea, melancholy weaving into your usual mirth.

Your attention turned back to him, looking a little caught off guard, as if you hadn’t even realized you’d been in a daze. “What am I— Oh…” Now your gentle smile reappeared, though still tinted with a tiny hint of somberness.

Your hand slid across the tabletop to find his, which turned over to clasp gently around your own with a gentle protection. “It’s just…” you began, watching as Howl’s thumb caressed the top of your hand. “Sometimes I think about how things were before I met you… How dull they seemed. But then you came into my life and suddenly there was so much color, so much life…” Your grin brightened a little bit then, and you chuckled out a teasing, “Definitely a lot more drama.” Even Howl found amusement at that, he couldn’t deny it.

Your view turned back out to the sea, the twinkling lights of the sailboat shimmering off the water. “And it’s just… Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it all…”

Howl’s expression dropped, morphing into concern— nearly into shock.

“What you did to— Well that’s obvious, don’t you think?” You looked back to him, blinking twice, a little confused. He took both your hands in his, grip flexing a fraction over your palms as his brows knit with worry. Turning a little more serious, he cleared his throat and said, “You deserve this and more. So much more. And I would do anything— anything— to give it to you.”

“Howl…” Sighing each other’s names was an emotion in its own right, between the two of you, a coded declaration of your love. “You give me more than enough. What I mean to say is that…” You leaned in a little closer to him, scooting your chair forward a few inches, tenderly cupping his cheek in one of your velvety palms. “What I mean to say, is that I never thought I’d get lucky enough to find a love like we have.” Even in the dim light, you swore you saw Howl Pendragon blush, not as accustomed to receiving your blunt words of affection as you were of his.

“But what if luck has nothing to do with it?” Howl shifted back into his confidence then, lifting an eyebrow for a moment as another one of those sly grins spread across his lips. “What if it was fate instead?”

“Then, I suppose,” you began, lightening up and letting out a tired laugh, “I should be thanking fate.” Howl learned into your touch, savoring your warmth. “Because I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” you told him, feeling him squeeze your hand a little firmer. “The luckiest girl in the entire universe.”

Howl brought the hand of yours that he was still holding to his lips, kissed the top of it, allowing his lips to linger for a moment as his crystal blue gaze held yours, his devotion as bright and steady as the stars sparkling in the sky.

“Then that must make me the luckiest man in all of eternity,” he replied, voice silky smooth and low, only loud enough for you to hear, as if, dare he speak any louder, the angels in the heavens grow jealous and try to reclaim you.

Then it was your turn to blush, a bashful smile painting your joy, sipping at your wine while trading loving glances, ankles intertwined under the table and content enough just to be in each other’s presence.

***

Once dinner was over and you and Howl took the short stroll back up the hill to the inn, you realized just how tired you really were, the many activities of the day finally catching up to you.

Howl noticed the sleepiness tugging at your eyelids, drawing them down at half-mast like the sailboats preparing to dock for the evening, and swept you off your feet, carrying you up the stairs towards your suite and carefully lowering you to the end of the bed, the plush comforter filling in around you in a nest of fluffy goose down.

Howl placed his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning down a little closer as he murmured in that sweet, deep voice of his, “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

You nodded, failing to suppress a yawn. “Definitely an eventful one,” you chuckled, a lazy smile lingering on your lips. You reached up to drape your arms over his shoulders, clasping your hands loosely behind his neck, his shiny, soft hair like silk between your fingers. “But I had a great time… So thank you, Howl. For all of this.”

Howl took a seat on the end of the bed next to you, gently pulling you into his lap and cradling you in his arms, your head lolling against his chest, hearing the steady beating of his heart— a falling star wished back between the ribs of its rightful owner. He smoothed back some of your wind tousled hair and said, “None of this would be possible without you, my dear. Who else would I share it with?”

You let out another hum of gentle adoration, nuzzling closer into him, his scent of roses and bergamot and the slightest twinge of campfire smoke putting you at ease the way it always did. Everything about Howl had a way of putting you at ease.

He’d always be your beacon on the shore, your guiding light. You found him in every bird that sang perched along the windowsill or burst of carefree laughter echoing through the market square. He would keep watch over you by way of the constellations spread out across the night sky or the refreshing breezes that winded through the streets during the day.

Because anything beautiful— whether mundane or fantastical— reminded you of him. Just the same as they reminded him of you.

Beauty has a way of finding beauty.

Perhaps he was right.

“You spoil me…” you teased. “Better watch out, Calcifer might get jealous.”

“Not if we bring him back some of those macarons like you promised,” he chuckled, now caressing your neck, following the line of your collarbones and shoulder, slowly traveling back up and down with his soothing ministrations as you melted further into his tender touch.

“I love you, Howl…” you sighed, your eyes closed, breathing calm and steady.

“I love you, too,” he replied, placing a kiss delicately on the crown of your head.

For a little while, he just held you like that, keeping you safe in his arms while you drifted off into your dreams, subconscious painted with strokes of sunset orange and glittering gold, deep blues and shining silvers, pastel purples and soft cream whites.

They were pleasant dreams, while they lasted, though as Howl shifted around you and caused you to stir, you didn’t worry about losing them. You’d gain plenty of new opportunities tomorrow to view those colors in reality, this place so gorgeous one could only imagine it to be something out of a fairy tale.

“What are you doing…?” you mumbled as Howl lowered you to lay out on your back, making sure a pillow was placed comfortably under your head.

He knelt to start unlacing your boots then, flashing something only slightly mischievous before answering, “Well, you can’t very well get into bed in all these clothes, now can you?”

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of your lips before fading back into exhaustion, laying still as Howl removed your shoes, your stockings, helped you out of your beautiful dress and then tucked you under the covers.

Once you were settled, he made good work of removing his own clothing, garments slid perfectly onto hangers and hooked on the back of the door, the suite’s wardrobe too far away to be bothered with apparently.

When he joined you under the sheets and blankets, he pulled you close, your bodies curling around each other like entangled vines traveling up towards the sun. He pressed another kiss to your forehead, muttering one last, “I love you,” before wishing you sweet dreams.

And this time, you dreamt not only of the colors, but the feelings as well.

There was enough devotion and adoration to fill all of the world’s oceans, so deep and full and undeniably real that it was no wonder it didn’t take much for you to drown in it all.

But below the surface there was always a savor waiting for you, your protector, your rescuer, the one you could always depend on. He could take your hand and guide you to unbelievable new worlds, all the beauties hidden in any nook of the land, or even his own imagination, waiting for you to happen upon them.

And you didn’t know how it was possible, that you and Howl just seemed to fall in love more and more every year, every day. But you supposed it was sort of like magic. You’d have to see it, hear it, feel it to believe it. And once you had, that was all the proof you’d need to never question how or why is was possible ever again.

***

(Me picturing post-war Howl bringing Sophie on all these amazing dates and lovely trips and just wanting that to be me T-T <3

No but really, who wasn’t in love with Howl Pendragon after their first watch of the movie haha

Anyway, this is literally from like over a year ago and I’d never finished it, so I figured I’d spruce it up a bit and just put it out there.

Also writing for Howl made me want to write for Qifrey (from Witch Hat Atelier) because, charming and mysterious wizards? sign me up!

I hope you enjoyed!

See you next time <3)

#i literally started this like an entire year ago aaaaahhhh!!#im glad its finally done lol it was haunting me whenever i opened my 'currently working on' folder #howl's moving castle #howl pendragon #howl pendragon x reader #howl pendragon x you #howl pendragon x y/n #howls moving castle #howls moving castle fanfic #howls moving castle fanfiction #howl pendragon fanfiction #howl jenkins x reader #howl jenkins pendragon #howl jenkins x you #howl jenkins x y/n #hauru no ugoku shiro

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 9 months

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Hi, I just got done dealing with a 12 hour migraine and just found your fate posts, if you would be willing could you do, Gareth, Mordred, Atalante Alter, and serenity with a male S/O fluff? Thank you so much if you do this!

Your Wish Is My Command!

(Damn, that sounds like hell, glad you're getting better dude! Also sorry it took so long to get this to you, for some reason Atalante Alter and Serenity weren't coming along and eventually I had to cut them out which is infuriating because I've wanted to write for both of them for awhile.)

Wordcount: 1,172

Time to Write: 47 days

Warnings: Female pronouns for Mordred because gender gets fucky when the Fate series is involved.

Gareth

(Fun Fact: Gareth was the first lancer I ever pulled! Also why are there no Gifs of best lancer but so much awesome fanart?)

You opened the door to the home you and gareth shared, the toils of the day weighing heavily on your mind and body.

“It seems Gareth isn’t home yet.” You muttered while you took your shoes off before forcing yourself to trudge towards the bedroom.

Unfortunately your exhausted body decided that the couch would serve just as well if not better than your bed as you flopped onto the piece of furniture with all of the grace of a bull in a china shop.

You briefly noted that the pillows Gareth picked out to decorate the couch were quite comfy and soft before a death like sleep finally took you.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Gareth opened the door to the home she shared with you, a yawn already escaping her as she kicked off her shoes

“Hmm what should I make for dinner?” Gareth asked herself as she stretched her arm and back.

“Then again I don’t really feel like making anything right… now…” Gareth trailed off as she walked into the living room and saw your sleeping form on the couch.

“Takeout it is.” Gareth muttered to herself with a smile as she kneeled down to look at your sleeping face.

“I wonder if I kiss him if that’ll wake him up just like in those stories about Knights and princesses?” Gareth quietly mused to herself before muttering “I’d better not risk it. Afterall, it’s not everyday I get to do something like taking a nice quiet nap with him.”

Gareth quietly stood up and made her way to the room the two of you shared to change into something a bit more comfortable.

-=-=-=-=-=-

A comfortable weight laid upon your entire body while the sounds of soft snores did their best to lull you back to sleep with their ever enchanting melody, sadly allowing yourself to do that was out of the question because of the woman making the same song that tried to lull you back to your rest.

A mop of blonde and brown hair, a soft and happy face with a small amount of drool escaping her open mouth, her eye’s held closed by the embrace of sleep, her body pressed tightly into yours with a shirt that was a size or so too large covering her like a gown.

This was Gareth, not the night of the round table Gareth, but the young, excitable, woman Gareth, someone who enjoys cooking, someone who enjoys cheesy cartoons and comedy shows, someone who finds the world of love she has dived headfirst into with you at her side more exciting than anything her life from before could have ever offered.

And even if the entire world was at stake, she is someone who wouldn’t trade you for it.

Mordred Pendragon

Mordred Pendragon has been called a great many things.

Loud.

Rambunctious.

Chaotic.

Crazy.

Feral.

Bastard.

Monster.

Betrayer.

But not once has she been called what you dare to call her at least once every single day.

Cute.

And it infuriates her to no end.

No matter what she does to try and get you to call her something else, anything else, you always, always! Walk up to her and say with a smile “You really are cute Mo.”

And don’t get her started on that insufferable nickname that never fails to make her heart skip a beat, heat to rush to her cheeks, and her stomach to roil in a way that made her feel both extremely happy and extremely weird.

She has no Idea what was going on with you and how you were making her all weird, but her feelings on the matter could not be anymore paradoxical.

On one hand she wants you to treat her like everyone else does because that’s what she knows, it’s what she’s used to.

But on the other she wants you to praise her, to flatter her, to continue to call her cute, to continue to treat her in the way that no one else has treated her before.

She despises it and she loves it more than anything.

Then a certain day came.

There was nothing truly special about it, it was just a regular day, no holiday, no weird weather, no crazy phenomenon, just a regular day with a pretty high chance of rain all throughout the day.

And yet every time Mordred would ever look back on this day, it would be one of if not the day she called the best day of her life.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Mordred kicked a rock as she trekked to the destination where you called her to.

“Why the hell am I even listening to that bastard's request?” Mordred muttered to herself as she kicked another rock down the trail she was following.

This exact same sequence of events continued for the next thirty minutes.

Mordred would kick a rock.

Then she would complain about why she was listening to you or say that she was just going to leave you out to dry.

Then she would continue forward and repeat the previous steps as many times as it took to reach the destination you set.

A hill that overlooked the city and the forest equally.

Mordred had to begrudgingly admit that the view was beautiful, the lights of the city contrasted by the shadows of the forest added a rather fairytale-esque look to it all.

And yet despite the view her eyes were squarely locked on you where you were sitting on the blanket, a basket and a cooler next to you.

“Hey there Mo.” You greeted her despite not even being able to see her from where you were.

“How’d you know I was here?” Mordred asked, the familiar feeling that name you always called her caused creeping in.

“I’ll admit, the first few times it tried that it was either a raccoon or a bird.” You answered with a chuckle.

“Oh, wonderful, fucking wonderful! Now his chuckle is getting me all weird! Damn it!” Mordred cursed in her mind.

“So why’d ya call me up here?” Mordred asked you.

You patted the ground next to you and said “come, come, sit.”

“Why he hell would I- NO! BODY! NO! LISTEN TO ME ARGHFKNDKGNJGOJM” Mordred screamed as her body moved towards you against her mind’s wishes.

Mordred sat down, her face as red as clarent, if not more so.

“Here, I want you to try this.” You told Mordred as you pulled out a carton of chocolate covered strawberries from the cooler and handed it to her.

“Is that the only reason you called me up here?” Mordred asked.

“No, but it’s one of them.” You admitted with a shrug.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The picnic continued until night began to fall and Mordred finally decided it was time to do something about this damnable feeling you cause in her.

And if that meant sharing the last strawberry so be it!

-=-=-=-=-END-=-=-=-=-=-

Again sorry about only doing half of this, whenever I get the motivation to write something for Atalante Alter or Serenity I'll be sure to try and tag you.

#fgo #fate grand order x reader #fgo x reader #Mordred x Reader #Mordred saber of red #saber of red #gareth fgo #fgo gareth #gareth x reader #Gareth x Reader #mordred x reader #character x reader

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drainsdorm · 4 months

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me sobbing in the break room after a customer was mean to me even though i would gladly let arthur pendragon speak to me like the scum under his shoe

#merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #king arthur #bradley james

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arthursknight · 2 years

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oftentimes, i see merlin as blue. it's kind of a logical conclusion, seeing as that is a colour he is often dressed in throughout the show, and we have the "blue and red" contrast of merlin and arthur that kind of lends itself to that interpretation.

but i was thinking.

the official colours of the pendragon crest, and thereby the official colours of camelot, are red and gold.

arthur is red. we know this pretty apparently from his costuming-- red tunics, red cape, red necklace. but we're diving into metaphor, here, and within the framework of the show-- of arthur and merlin being two sides of the same coin, opposites and yet one whole-- arthur as red becomes even more apparent.

because red is a colour steeped in history, here, of victory, of war, of nobility. roman soldiers would paint their bodies red after a victory on the battlefield. in medieval history, red was often a royal colour because of its obvious association with blood-- specifically, the blood of christ (which is why cardinals wear red), and was worn by royalty to represent the divine right of kings. charlemagne, notably, wore red shoes at his coronation and painted his palace red. (of course, charlemagne was some 300 years post the time of arthur, but it still stands to reason that the iconography of red didn't change that radically in that time period). and, of course, if we're following arthuriana, arthur was the one who made y Ddraig Goch, the red dragon, his battle standard. (but then we go into the fact that bbc merlin is an anglicized version of a welsh piece of folklore, so of course the pendragon dragon is gold instead, but I am not going that route right now. maybe later. bear with me.)

but even just outside of red's historical context, red's symbolic meaning (which, of course, can't completely be divorced from its historical context, but i digress) is purely arthur. love, passion, fire, blood, courage, sacrifice, arthur, arthur, arthur.

it's interesting, then, that someone who is supposed to be the literal, physical embodiment of his kingdom (the king as a symbolic vessel for that which he rules) is not seen to be coded with both of its colours. sure, arthur wears the crest on several pieces of his clothing-- his gauntlets, his cape. but we never see arthur in just gold. he obviously favours red, as all the pendragons do (morgana's literal favour to sir owain, in the episode with tristan de bois, is red).

enter merlin.

we never see merlin wear gold, either. merlin isn't one to wear jewelry (gods know i would pay to see it), and for a servant to be dressed in gold would be. Well.

but merlin's magic is gold.

we see this, very literally, every time he performs magic. his eyes flash gold. it would be kind of a moot point if the idea that eyes flashing gold were a universal character trait amongst magic users in the show, but it isn't. first that comes to mind is the episode with sophia and the sidhe, whose magic turns their eyes red. several magic users throughout the show use magic without their eyes changing colour-- nimueh is one.

so it's not a consistent trait of those who use magic. magic doesn't universally turn your eyes gold within this narrative framework. but it does to merlin, because his magic is gold. and because merlin is magic, and his magic is so intrinsically unique to him and is unparalleled, it serves to reason that merlin is gold.

and, well.

the pendragon crest is mostly red-- and, if arthur is red, then camelot is red-- but its dragon, the heart of the crest, is gold.

and, well. if gold is merlin, and merlin is magic, and gold is magic--

there is, after all, magic in the heart of camelot.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin meta #merthur #merthur meta #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #my writing #kinda not really but i dont have a my meta tag #...#my meta #i apologize for any historical inaccuracies and would LOVE to hear a medievalist's thoughts on these colours #as they are specifically within that time period as a piece of cultural history

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schweizercomics · 1 year

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As of this week, I'm back from the Welsh mountains of Snowdonia, where my family and I went three weeks ago for a harp festival in which my daughter was participating. We spent most of our time in the castle city of Caernarfon, where the festival took place, and stayed across the street from a really big, really lovely old church at the base of Twthill, “Wales’s smallest mountain,” site of a Yorkist victory during the War of the Roses.

One of the days that we were there, I took a bus to nearby Bedgellert, ostensibly named for a noble but unjustly murdered 13th century dog, and set out to reach the top of Dinas Emrys, which lay outside the town and near a defunct Victorian copper mine (which I also crawled around in).

(outside the mines, before I started walking)

I wandered through a lot of countryside, woods, and sheep farms. The standard Welsh joke is "Don't like the weather? Wait five minutes," and that was the case - ten minutes heavy wind and rain, ten minutes sunshine, off and on for about four hours.

In the next pic, you can see the hillock of Dinas Emrys from before it crests upwards...

...and here it is from the top. The tree sits just outside the tower ruins (the pit to its immediate left).

I've never had such a beautiful walk to such a satisfying end. Not only was the peak gorgeous, but it also had the bonus of being a historical/mythical destination right up my alley.

The top of Dinas Emrys is where the oldest English/British histories (the 9th century Historia Brittonum and Geoffrey of Monmouth's famous History of British Kings* place the tower of Vortigern (and subsequently Ambrosius, in many versions the older brother and predecessor of Uther Pendragon), which in the legends had to be rebuilt numerous times because of the red and white Dragons that fought at the pool below it and which were taken by a (then young) Merlin as an omen for Welsh/Briton victory over eastern invaders.

*My pal Benito Cereno is currently translating Geoffrey's book from Latin, with some commentary, on his Patreon, and you can read his translation of the story here.

The sun was finally (consistently) shining by the time I got to the top, so I took off my shoes and socks to dry them, lit my pipe, set up my easel, and did some sketches of both the tower ruins and, once I climbed down to it, the hidden pool below.

I was quite happy with the travel easel I'd built and carried for the last eight or nine miles, until the heavy wind took it off the side of the mountain and broke it. It's fixable, but not without tools that I didn't have in the mountains, so that was that.

I haven't finished most of the Dinas Emrys sketches - like a lot of my travel stuff, I pencil (and sometimes ink), throw a couple of spots of color, and take photos to use as reference, so that I can do more pieces on a limited traveling schedule. But I'm looking forward to finishing the drawings of the pool especially - it felt like I was in a fairy tale down there, and I hope I can convey it (although the leafless, windswept [I think] hawthorn trees, reaching toward the pool like hands, aren't like any trees I've ever tried to draw before this trip, and trying to get them right is part of the reason I ain't yet done).

The trip back down was less idyllic, partially because going down over wet rocks is, while less strenuous than going up, more demanding of care and attention, so I had to watch my feet more than the surroundings, especially having taken a fall up by the ruins. But I'd count the trek as one of the genuine high points of my life. I was elated and in awe for hours at a stretch, and absolutely overcome with the beauty of it. And, while the rain might've been unpleasant and chilly at times, it meant that the sun fought through water and clouds to create the most incredible vistas, and the rain meant that the colors of the mosses and grasses were at their most vivid.

I'll have castle drawings down the line, too, and some others from around the harbor town, and I can't stress how much we enjoyed our time in Wales.

I did take a few days to go up to Leeds, do a signing at Traveling Man, and visit the Royal Armouries a few times to do drawings. One of the folks who came to the signing, Dr. Tzouriadis, is a currator at the armouries and was kind enough to give me a tour on my last day in Leeds, including getting to see the research library, which I now know to make an appointment for visiting the next time I'm there (I likewise learned about the British Library reading rooms and research collection, and got a card for it for the next time I'm in London).

Dr. Tzouriadis was incredibly generous with his expertise, and I learned or clarified a lot of really neat things that'll influence how I draw swords and armor in the future. And I've had some practice this trip thanks to the incredible collections with which I had a chance to spend some time.

Each day over the month of May, I'll be posting one drawing of a sword (or other edged weapon) from either the Royal Armouries, the Tower armory, or the British Museum. It's jumping the gun a bit, but here's a sneak preview of the first one:

They're toned with a single color (indigo) so that I can collect them into a book in black and white and make both its manufacture and selling cost a bit less than I could were I to do color - it also cuts down on the time spent making them. I'll likely put them up for sale each day as I post them, likely for the same price (50 plus shipping?), as a means by which to recoup some of the (substantial) cost of the trip.

While in Leeds I also got to meet cartoonist James Lawrence, have dinner with cartoonist John Allison, and briefly stop by OK COMICS in the arcade, which was an incredible store with an amazing selection of books.

After Wales we went to London (Penny's first time), and Penny was unfortunately ill for a couple of days, so I spent time at the museum doing sketches, and visiting the library treasures gallery. We saw a couple of musicals that Penny was keen on seeing, went to Charles Dickens's house, visited the Tower, ate some cheap meat pie with jellied eels in Greenwich, toured Westminster and St Pauls (I went to a Eucharist service at the latter, as well as one in Wales in a lovely little church built into the castle wall more than seven hundred years ago), and a handful of other things, including seeing the Tempest at the Globe Theater - my first time seeing a play at the Globe, and my first time seeing the Tempest performed.

I also got to visit a whole store devoted to Tove Jansson's MOOMIN, where I got a mug and a biography of Jansson, and it was next door to the Benjamin Pollock's Paper Theater shop. I went to London disappointed that the Pollock paper theater museum had closed only months before after decades of operation, and didn't know that there was an (unaffiliated since the 80s) shop, so stumbling upon it was a real treat (stumbling is how I like to do cities - I walked crisscrossed the town between the Euston and the river and found some great shops, including a lot of bookstores).

Now that I'm home, I'm very keen to get back to work. I'll be doing Patreon commissions, coloring a book for my friend and frequent collaborator Kyle Starks, and just settling back into being able to work, which I missed an awful lot despite the wonderful trip.

#Snowdonia #Wales #North Wales #Arthuriana

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