#No sudden betrayals going on here no siree

[forestwhisper3]

Welcome back to [Not Quite] Midnight Meditations, although tonight, we are surprisingly more or less on time (as long as the clock still says 12 I'm counting it as on time), where I share segments from the darker corners of my flash drive. As stated before, these are all ideas that held my interest for a bit but were left unfinished for one reason or another. It is very unlikely that they will ever be fully fleshed out, but I figured it would be fun to share them.

Continuing in order from the last post, tonight's segment is Digimon again. This one is based firmly in Gen 2 and is yet another Davis-centric fic, but the concept this time is that he turns evil.

I do remember enjoying the concept of evil Davis when I wrote this (and I will admit the idea still holds some appeal even now), but I also remember being rather put off by the execution of many of the fics I read that pursued this plot. A lot of them had everyone suddenly turn on him because of one small mistake, or he decided he was tired of being "second best" to TK. That always felt sort of lackluster and unrealistic to me, so I tried my own spin on it.

This idea didn't get as much attention as the last one, so it's considerably shorter, but I feel like it sets the mood for what could have been the rest of the story rather well. Anyway, I won't keep you any longer, so here it is.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I-…I think something's wrong with me."

"…Wrong how?"

"I've been hearing voices."

Ken rushed through the forest, the others hot on his heels, adrenaline pushing them past their normal limits. Inwardly, he was berating himself. He and Davis had both considered this possibility, no matter how reluctantly on his part, but Ken thought they might have had more time- that it might not happen because it was so unlikely…

Ken stiffened slightly while Davis grinned weakly. "Yeah, that's what I've been thinking too."

"…How long?"

"About a month now. It wasn't so bad at first- I thought it might have just been the late hours mixed with my imagination…but now…" Davis gave a deep, exhausted sigh. "I'm worried, Ken."

So he had ignored the warnings. He brushed off Davis's increasing weariness, his growing paranoia and jumpiness at the slightest things, and his increasingly frequent concerns that something serious was at work.

"We can't be sure that it's something to worry about yet," he countered a bit fearfully. "Maybe you just watched too many horror-"

"Ken. That's not it and you know it."

Davis's smile was so full of sadness and understanding that it made Ken tear up even while filling him with fury.

He had ignored it when Davis had started growing easily irritated and distant as well, although that wasn't the case with the others, who had finally caught on that something was happening. Not that they could have done anything by that point- the confrontation between TK and Davis was still a painful subject for all of them.

There was no ignoring it anymore.

"You're wrong! The dark spores were destroyed! There's no way for them to be affecting you!"

"Ken-"

"Don't! I don't want to hear it!"

Tai was the one who had found the letter.

It was as if Davis had known all along that Ken would never find the strength to admit that he was slowly losing his friend. Perhaps, in a moment of clarity, Davis had realized that it was something that they wouldn't be able to fix in time and wished to explain. Whatever the reason, he had somehow managed to sneak the letter into Tai's home and hid it away in Kari's scrapbook.

Davis went missing the very next day.

A long, tense silence fell. It was the sort of silence they hadn't felt between them since the early days of their friendship. After what felt like forever, Davis sighed and stood up.

"I need to head home. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

He nodded and went toward the door, pausing once it opened. "…Just promise me you'll think about it."

Davis was gone before he could answer. Then again, he doubted he would have been able to.

Now, they had finally gotten a reading on their leader's digivice…but he was afraid of what they would find.

Every day, the digital world seemed to grow just a little bit darker. Any digimon that weren't at Ultimate level or higher would stay hidden, and there were whispers…

"Ken?"

The tentative voice brought him out of his thoughts. The others were looking at him in concern, but he couldn't bring himself to even pretend to be all right.

"It'll be okay, Ken," Kari tried to assure him, although the way her brows were furrowed betrayed her worry. "We'll get him back."

"Yeah," TK agreed. "Davis is tough. I'm sure he's fighting whatever's possessing him with everything he's got."

"You don't understand," he whispered, not caring at how his voice cracked. "He'd been fighting it for almost a year before he disappeared. The thing about darkness is its subtlety. It waits for the best times to strike, and it always goes for your weak spots. It's amazing that he's lasted this long, but even Davis isn't invincible. One slip is all the darkness needs, and then you're overwhelmed…"

"I hate to say this, but Ken's right," Matt cut in, expression solemn. "We've all encountered darkness in some way, and we all gave into it eventually. It's a testament to Davis that he held it off as long as he did, but we have to face the fact that when we see him, he won't be himself."

"You saw the changes," Tai added grimly. "The Davis we know would never act that way. All we can do is fight and hope we can reach him like he reached Ken."

Hesitantly, they nodded.

Still, they weren't prepared for how much their friend had changed.

==============

#[Not Quite] Midnight Meditations #[NQ]MM #Digimon #Digimon Adventure 02 #Davis Motomiya #Motomiya Daisuke #Davis is a genuinely good guy going through a bad time #He has Friendship for a REASON and I will die on this hill #No sudden betrayals going on here no siree #No jealous arguments over Kari either #They're all friends your honor #Anyway this was fun to look at again. Hope you liked it too #Again. It's unlikely I'll ever continue this but if anyone else wants to then be my guest #Anything I post with the [NQ]MM tag is free real estate unless stated otherwise #Now I'm off to write a bit for the stories I do have posted #Bye for now!

[terapsina]

I Missed You - elejah fic

Happy New Year, @vorpalmuchness (sorry for missing Christmas).

- ao3 -

For Elena, being without humanity was very much like being in a house that had burned down around her.

All the comfort and warmth of a home replaced by blackened beams and scorched walls; with broken, half-destroyed photo frames encircling nothing but ash.

It was numbness. Darkness. Silence.

There was no emotion.

But there was... instinct; and hunger. The ever-present rage that kept her foot firmly on that switch. And a strange fascination with playing with fire.

This was why Elijah's sudden appearance and the kiss that had driven the breath from her lungs and sent a simmer of resentment to warm somewhere in the very depths of her chest, did not quite make Elena want to run.

It should have. Elijah was a threat.

"You listen very carefully to me, Stefan, if anything whatsoever happens to Katherine, I will descend upon Elena."

Elena rolled her eyes. Bored.

He was a threat but not because of the reasons she was sure Stefan and Damon were probably freaking out about right now. Not because he could "descent upon her" and tear her to pieces before she could so much as flinch back - she wasn't sure if she'd care if he did and it was moot anyway, he wasn't going to. She knew what it looked like when Elijah made a genuine threat and this here was as empty as it came.

Likewise, he wasn't a threat because he could compel her humanity back - no, Elena knew he wouldn't.

Elijah wasn't a threat because of who he was. He was a threat because of who he'd become to the Elena that was at the moment safely buried under the burned-down remains of her humanity.

That other, more foolish Elena might have done her very best to remain ignorant but the Elena she was right now did not bother with the guilty white lies she'd told herself then.

Elena had always been a little bit too aware of Elijah; had seen a little bit too much behind the curtain. Found herself just a little too defensive of their interactions.

Found it just a smidge too hard to look away.

It was the way her name on his lips felt like a caress; the way she'd felt his eyes like a touch even as she did look away; the way his letter had gotten tucked in a dark little corner beneath her mattress so that it was close at hand and yet safely out of view from accidental discovery.

Most of all Elijah had been the one person around whom everything within her had sharpened into bright, sharp focus. Their negotiations - a dance between two players, the threat of the consequences she'd face if she failed to see the hidden pitfalls in their deals making her mind run on all cylinders. But also the breath of fresh air that was his respect of her as an opponent, - or an ally, or a person, - making her feel like she actually had agency over her own choices for a change.

Even during the moments when everything had inevitably gone to hell again and their gazes slashed betrayal and regret into the other...

Elena knew where her heart had been slowly heading.

Where it might have landed if things had been different. If he hadn't left, if she hadn't gotten entrapped in a sire bond so all-encompassing that the only breath of freedom she'd felt in months was after she'd followed that last command and the voiceless scream Elena had not even noticed in the back of her head had faded into gray alongside her grief.

And all this meant that Elena should be trying to get as far away from Elijah as fast as possible.

But something spiteful and rattling made her want to poke the beehive more.

"You're both idiots," she informed him.

"Excuse me?"

She exhaled loudly to show her annoyance. "What happened to you, Elijah? I mean, I thought you were supposed to be a man of honor. And yet you've been hooking up with Katherine this entire time?"

It wasn't jealousy, with the switch turned off she was safe from that. She didn't - couldn't - care that he'd apparently been shacking up with her doppelganger since leaving Mystic Falls. But the idea that he was yet another man who couldn't tell the difference between her and Katherine grated against something sharp, leaving a metallic taste at the back of her throat.

Irritation? Yeah, that was it.

Being without emotions wasn't quite like being without feelings.

It's just that what feelings were there were surface-level and mercurial. And right now they were spite and irritation and the urge to scrape a bloody claw over some of the soft tissue Elijah had exposed to Elena when he'd run his fingers over the strand of hair encircling her face and told her he'd missed her while thinking her someone else.

She wondered how long it had taken him to lose all common sense.

Katherine did always seem to work fast; had a curious knack for inserting herself in the spans at just the right moment for maximum personal gain.

She could almost admire it were it not for how it also likewise always ended with Elena needing to deal with the consequences of Katherine's actions.

Or with her brother cold, and dead, and gone forever.

"Well, I suppose this man of honor always shared a connection with Katherine. She contacted me when she learned about the Cure. We thought we could be of mutual use to one another." Elijah’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact, his turned back making it impossible for Elena to read whatever the true thoughts behind the words.

She wondered why it was that he seemed to be avoiding Elena's eyes now. Guilt for kissing the wrong woman? Shame for not having recognized that she wasn't Katherine? And damn if that alone wasn't encouragement enough to keep her own humanity well and truly dead.

Guilt was useless. Pathetic. And had been one of the bricks she'd laid in the path that led her straight down into the hell that was her sire bond to Damon.

"Of mutual use," she mocked him with sudden mirth. "Please. You fell for her trap just like every other one of those idiots."

"You underestimate me, Elena. I know who she is. I know what she's done." There was something about the way he was straightening his cuff-links, about the way he walked past her, forcing Elena to turn on her heel if she wanted to keep her eyes on him. Something about the way Elijah still kept his head turned, that made her think there were thoughts he was trying to keep concealed.

"And you think she's changed?" Was he really that blind? She looked into his eyes as he finally stopped in his circling and faced her. "She's playing you, she lied to you, Elijah."

"She didn't lie to me about your transformation," he contested, something sad flickering briefly over his face.

And then he seemed to truly look at Elena, with eyes that in any other circumstances would have pinned her in place and made nervous little butterflies flutter their wings in her stomach. In these circumstances however all Elena felt were faint echoes of hunger that reminded her that she hadn't ended up snacking on that redhead Katherine had compelled and Elena and Rebekah had used to find her.

"You're not just a vampire, though, are you?" he said and stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them until they were nearly as close to one another as they'd been when he'd slid his fingers over the back of her neck and pulled her face against his own. When he'd kissed her mid-word and she'd felt blood roar against her eardrums; felt his lips on hers and his fingers in her hair. Sensation running through her nerves, lighting them up like Christmas lights in December and--

...a flush of heat from within the heart that should be frozen over reminded Elena that playing with fire was only fun as long as she didn't let the bitter burn ignite into a fire.

Elijah stared at her like he could see straight through her into that wall protecting Elena from her pain and... Elena went blank, pushing even harder against the switch, smoothing annoyance into apathy - attraction into boredom - until all Elijah could possibly touch would be the frozen surface of a still lake. Cold and smooth, without cracks to be exploited.

"There's... something else. You're not yourself. You've abandoned your emotions, why?"

Because she'd died with Damon’s blood in her system. Because she'd become a walking, talking doll that did what she was bid. Because her sire told her to and the poor, sired fledge that she was, she'd had no choice but to obey.

She would never allow herself to become that again. She wouldn't let them win.

"My brother's dead," she said instead and finished vindictively in a monotone meant to cut. "Your girlfriend killed him."

Real shock crashed over his expression and Elena felt a vague twist in her stomach. Relief? No. She was free of relief, and why would it bring her that particular feeling anyway? "You didn't know?"

Katherine hadn't told him.

Then she snorted, surprised by her own surprise. "Of course you didn't."

Why would Katherine have said something that might make Elijah see exactly how little it was that she'd changed?

"She lied." There was anger in his eyes now. Disappointment. But strangely no hurt.

Something snagged against that last observation; something minor beginning to nag at the back of her brain.

'I missed you,' Elijah had whispered against Elena's lips.

But the Cure that was giving Elena such a headache recently had only shown up on the scene in the past few months. How long ago could Katherine have called him? How long could it have possibly been since the last time Elijah saw Katherine?

Mind whirring she kept herself still, staring back into Elijah’s eyes and not letting a hint of her thoughts through. Letting Elijah see only that absence of humanity as she answered with words that would give him nothing. "I hate to say I told you so but... duh."

Who exactly had Elijah thought he was kissing when he'd joined her under the roof of that gazebo?

Katherine? Or... Elena?

#elejah #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #elejah fic #tvd fic #tvd #the vampire diaries #otp: i remember reading that in a letter once

[archesa]

The Oak and the Rose

A little sneak peek into an old wip of mine, the story of the soon-to-become heroine of Kvatch, saviour of Cyrodiil, most loyal protector of the last Septim emperor, and founder of the Evergreen line.

@nerevar-quote-and-star there we go ^^

These are the closing years of the Third Era... and the last hours of my life. Find him and close shut the jaws of Oblivion!

 

Find him. And close shut the jaws of Oblivion - 17th of Last Seed – 3 E 433

The air was damp and biting. The heavy scent of dust, mould and rot filled the air and made her cough as she struggled to straighten and blinked away the tears that had threatened to drown her dream. The images and memories of the last hours kept coming back to her, hauntingly vivid, if blured through a numbing haze of amnesia.

She remembered the Arcane University, the hopelessness in Traven's eyes as he drove the blade right through his heart, his soul ripped apart to fill the soul gem, the foul crystal turning dark, the betrayal contorting Raminus's face as he found her weeping over the corpse of the Archmage, the blade that killed him in her hands and the black gem at her feet.

The constant metalic sound of drops hitting the bars and shrieking whistle of the wind drilled through her skull, faning anew the embers of a blazing headache. Being drained dry of one's magicka tended to cause dizziness and a low thruming at the back of the head, but never had she experienced such emptiness.

“Oooh, aren't you a fair lass.”, a voice echoed across the corridor as she wandered near the bars. In the darkness, she barely fathomed the outline of another prisonner, in the block across hers – a dunmer leaning against the locked grid, observing her thouroughly. “Your skin is so pale, so pure. And your body is so... strong. Let me guess. A Nord, right? But these robes... Surely you don't belong to the University. Those snotty mages up their ivory tower wouldn't care for a little provincial with some cheap parlor tricks... Did I offend you? Well, why don't you make these bars disappear and prove me wrong? No. What's the matter, mage? Not so powerful,are you? You may have tricked the scholars into accepting you but down here, you're just a wild beast from far off heathen lands to be tamed! But don't worry. The guards always treat the pretty ones nice. Right 'til the end. Oh, that's right.”, he smirked, at the sudden palor on her skin. “You're going to die in here, Nord!”

A door shrieked in the up the corridor tore through the deathly silence of the dungeons.

“Hear that?”, the dunmer taunted, as he withdrew to the shadow of his cell. “The guards are coming. For you.”

The words cut deep through her battered spirit and fear seized her. She backed herself in the shadow and listened intently as footsteps and voices came nearer, descending the stairs.

“My sons... They are dead, aren't they?”

“We don't know that for sure, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked.”

“No.”, an elderly voice stated deeply. “They're dead. I know it.”

“My job right now is to get you to safety.”, a woman answered in a concerned tone.

“I know this place...”, the man reflected. “The prison?”

“Yes, your majesty. Beneath the Legion compound. We're headed to a secret passage known only to the Blades. No one can follow us there.”

Her lean shape appeared in the light of a torch and stopped before the grid of the cell, her gaze falling immediately on the prisonner held in there.

“What's this prisoner doing here?”, she seethed, turning to another soldier wearing the same ornamented banded armor. “This cell is supposed to be off-limits.”

“Usual mix-up with the Watch.”, the redguard shrugged apologetically. “I-”

“Never mind. Get that gate open.” She then turned to the woman drawing instinctively back against the wall of her cell. “Stay where you are, prisoner. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way.”

The young woman nodded silently and averted her gaze as the small troop entered the cell. There were three Blades - she could tell now by the look of their armor in the light of the torch - escorting a man well in the winter of his life and bearing on his shoulder the heavy burden of the Empire he ruled upon. Liv instantly bowed her head to him as his ageless eyes fell upon her.

“You...”, the Emperor breathed. “I have seen you.”

His steps drew him closer, and a hand gently grabbed her chin to lift her face to the light.

“Let me see your face. You are the Archmage... the one from my dream...”, he stated, a sense of impending doom in his voice. “Then, the stars were right and this is the day... Gods... Give me strength.”, he prayed through gritted teeth. He took in a deep soothing breath and looked once again upon the young woman from his vision, the confusion on her face plain as day and sign that her destiny was still to get ahold of her. “Assassins have taken the lives of my sons, and I am next.”, he explained further, the sadness in his voice now clearly sounding as resigned acceptance. “My Blades are leading me out of the city”, he added, as the soldiers busied themselves with an intricate combination of loose stones in the alcove nearby, “along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that old way leads through your cell. I have faith that the Gods have placed you here so that we met, in this fateful hour.”

“My liege?”, she creaked, her voice still broken since her capture.

The Emperor nodded to the man behind him, motionning him to approach.

“Release her.”

“Sire?”, the redguard inquired. “Is it prudent to...”

“The will of Akatosh appears to mortal in most unexpected guises. We must have faith in His guidance in this darkest hour.”

The Blade reluctantly obeyed, and pulled a skeleton key from his satchel to remove the prisoner's manacles. The heavy metal binds glowed blue as they were unlocked and fell to the ground with a dull, unnatural sound.

"As for what you've done...”, he considered pensively, the lingering pain in her eyes at the mere mention of her crime almost enough to convince him of her innocence, “it does not matter. That is not what you'll be remembered for.”, he offered with a smile.

“Sire, please”, the captain of the Blades cut curtly, the edge in her voice threading dangerously on the verge between respect due to his rank and irritation facing an old man's whim. “We must keep moving.”

“Walk the rest of the way with me.”, he offered. “After that...” The old ruler smiled weakly, but comfortingly. “You will find your own path. Take care... there will be blood and death before the end.”

#archesa writes #oblivion #the elder scrolls iv: oblivion #the oak & the rose #the dragon and the bear

[ask-stealth-thunderstreaker]

Get back up and Fight!!

Summary : The end.. This story isn't in order, and we work backward , sideways, and reverse. We're talking like friends , and Stealth is telling ya this. This is the story of when Stealth realized life wasn't fair ..

Warning : Don't read if you have issues with Alcholics or the mention of the Mistreatment of Children/Child Abuse.

Stealth sat humming to herself as she wondered why her carrier was here. Stealth was usually left with Pactor or Megsy , which wasn't uncommon. She was curious as to why her carrier drank from the large cubicle . She was also curious why her career was chatting away with someone over comms. But returned her attention to the datapad that held her attention as she read a recent theory of Beast-Formers.

She wasn't overly concerned, especially when her carrier stumbled over , for her, it was common, but usually resulted in some type of affection. She wasn't aware when, but a sudden pain flashed across her hud as her carrier pinched the sensitive wire of her doorwings , which resulted in the small femme arching her back to alleviate the pain As her carrier uttered numerous hateful,cruel, and insulting things at the small femme in tarnian.

She was confused as the wires severed to a degree before her carrier let her go "Slaggin' mistake is what you were!! You held me back! I wish i never created ya ! Would've saved me a lot ! Your sire, too, probably !! Slaggin' mistake !!" He carrier snarled , the prompt slap across her face and sting surprised the young femme before her carrier collapsed in a jumbled mess beside her as she felt tears run down her cheeks On her back , her doorwings numb as she stared through tearful optics at the ceiling above sadly as she wondered if this was normal ...or if her carrier was correct... would she only be useful as... she whimpered sadly at the thought before recalling a few words from Impactor from when she'd fallen recently at his place a while back.

Flashback:

Stealth sniffled as she trippled for the upteenth time that day since her upgrade . Her doorwings wingspan recently increased to accommodate her height, which meant they weighteda bit more from the reinforcement. She whimpered, waiting for Impactor to help her up as the Gladiator continued on down the road. She called out to him as he finally realized she wasn't beside him before promptly returning. "Ya gonna get up ?" She sniffled."Help ?" The gladiator snorted."Life advice , kiddo. You gotta learn to get up , your sire ain't always gonna be there , nobody will. You come into this cruel worl by yourself and leave alone , all that matters is you. The sooner you learn that the easier life is, " he said, watching her as she frowned "But-" she frowned."I have Sire and Carrier ...oh and you !" She smiled as Impactor frowned."Yeah, but we aren't meant to look after you forever. It's easier living where we do that ya learn now." He explained before walking away ,leaving the femmling to get up and chase after him.

End flashback~

Stealth wishes that this incident with her carrier was a one-time thing, but in her story, that never seems to be the case. It continued until one day , she snapped back. It changed their relationship forever once her carrier realized that the newly upgraded femme would defend herself from the cruelty.

Stealth often thought of this as she sat silently on the post ... the post where her life should've ended. The place Prowl and Springer made a judgment call and decided to leave. And she was still alive and slowly dying , she was still trying to comprehend everything.

To her, it was a slight , but she supposes it wasn't a huge betrayal or even unexpected. For Prowl this was a matter of time , he hated the dirt she had on him and she wasn't suprised is the point. However from Springer , her partner and possibly love of her pathetic and pitiful life . Frag it hurt , her sparkached that he hadn't returned even 2 years later. Today she resolved she wouldn't wait as she sent out a transmisson. Like Impactor had told her all those milena ago .

She'd get up and dust off the dirt , and go back for more. She hated that stubborn and optimistic part of her as she sent out a transmisson .

Transmisson:

Autobot: Stealth

Message : SOS

She awaited a response . It had been 2 years in her time , but time could've passed differently, before a response interuppted her thoughts.

Incoming Response :

Vessel : The Lost Light

Captain : Rodimus

Message : Send Coords. !!!

Stealth laughed silently to herself before responding to her old friend........

Note : Stealth hates Tarnian accents and will only accept Impactor and Megatrons' thick accents as exceptions. She knows the dialect but hates it and her tarnian roots , along with her carrier, so ....yeah....

#transformers idw #incorrect transformers quotes #transformers g1 #springer #stealth #funny transformers #o.c #Ask-Stealth-and-Thunderstreaker #Stealth backstory #Ehhh

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hello! Sorry if my English is not as good 😅, but I really love your insightful thoughts about the characters and how you describe Comte 😍. If it's not an annoyance, I wanted to ask something about Charles (I know his route is not out yet and there is not much information about him). I've been seeing in some posts that Vlad did something to him in Dazai's route (i'm not sure what really happened) and i'm really curious about it, because even though it's known that Vlad uses his powers against his people, i can't really picture it due to the way Charles acts towards him with so much affection ?🤔 or admiration... (I guess it's because of his personality or trauma, behavior that it's different from Faust, who acts cautiously with Vlad) So it's something i'm truly curious about. Sorry for bothering you and Thank you!

Welcome welcome! Please don’t worry, I had no trouble at all understanding you, your English is great! ❤️❤️❤️ As for what I know about Charles, my information is limited due to the nature of his content so far--I haven’t seen a ton about him quite yet. But in Dazai’s route we get a glimpse into his situation due to his increased screentime there.  

I’m just going to put a spoilers warning here for Dazai’s JPN rt, since that’s where I’ve learned the most about Charles:

Charles is indeed a very affectionate and generally genki boy as far as interpretations go, but there are heavy implications that Vlad is manipulating him on a profound psychological level. I say this only because there is plenty of evidence that Charles’ behavior isn’t quite his own at points, and because Dazai himself proves it to be true.

One piece of information that is necessary before delving too deep is that Charles finds MC’s handkerchief at one point early on and develops a sudden curiosity/desire to see her. While a person could just assume he was curious, I don’t personally believe that curiosity went without surveillance or intervention--since Vlad was there the whole time.

My best guess is that Vlad wanted to find out more about MC and perhaps use her as bait to manipulate Dazai (or threaten Comte), but Dazai already offered him something interesting in wanting to warp the flow of time--so Charles’ relationship with her was only collateral in the end. While Charles did have some level of sincere feeling for MC, it’s later revealed that it was ostensibly an obsession and did not operate on a normal level of personable feeling.

The way Dazai further proves that Charles’ mind has been manipulated is that, when Dazai begins to suggest that Vlad is essentially a con-man that intends to use Charles for murder no matter the cost to his mental health, Charles reacts with unnatural distress. It’s not the kind of refusal a person would normally have at the suggestion of someone’s betrayal of their loyalty, where they reject it and are uneasy but otherwise aren’t physically controlled by the emotion. Charles seems unable to mentally handle the suggestion that Vlad’s intentions aren’t good at all--that he’s lying--to the point where Charles nearly collapses from the intensity of the dissonance between his own mind and the parts Vlad is forcing into obedience. 

There is also a scene following Charles’ intense mental distress where Vlad essentially interrogates Charles as to his loyalty, and gives the overtone that any kind of disobedience will be swiftly destroyed if he sees it. Faust tries to protect Charles as best he can, but his power is limited compared to Vlad’s.

Furthermore, Vlad is Charles’ sire (aka Charles’ creator as a vampire)--if he can command and manipulate Shakespeare as well as people extraneous to him so easily, I really doubt Charles would be beyond his control. The only reason Faust seems to have more agency and stability is that Faust is highly attached to his own internal emotional compass and what he believes in. (The keyword here is “seems”, if I’m honest I’m not 100% sure if Vlad isn’t still there in his mind, subtly manipulating him to the darker sides of his nature.) Charles, as much as I love him, seems even more susceptible to the emotional/motivational overtones of others around him. I mean Faust even uses a similar tactic to help Charles, in that he slowly walks him through to the solution, and Charles never once questions his judgement or thought process because it feels right to him. If you think about it Shakespeare is much the same way; he’s so obsessed with the creation of his plays and public reception to them that he is easily manipulated because he lacks personal grounding. Vincent, despite his gentle nature, is not half so susceptible to this manipulation because he is immovable at his core. There are moral lengths he will not go to no matter the intentionality, and his inspirations come from deep within. Even Dazai is too mentally strong to be controlled due to his immense love for other people. Vlad also cannot control him because he loves MC so deeply he would never betray that trust, the only single time he betrays it is when he seeks suicide (which is more about fighting his mental illness and self-harm than it is about hurting MC).

If I’m honest, I think Charles may want to believe in the best of Vlad. But I don’t think that necessarily means that Vlad is not manipulating him to his own ends, or that he isn’t causing Charles significant psychological distress/dissonance throughout the game. Charles seems like the type to want to believe in people even if he knows that belief might be misplaced. As for Vlad, I have little to no reason to believe he is not hurting Charles. He does not consider Charles his son in any capacity, and openly treats both Charles and Faust like tools to a greater end. With Vlad, only the results matter--the means are irrelevant.

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp charles #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp meta #ikevamp jpn rt spoilers #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp faust #i mean i honestly hate to say vlad is just manipulating him but #;;;;;;;;;; im ngl there is a lot of evidence pointing to vlad trying to bend people's minds and wills 24/7 #from what i understand a person has to have a very powerful will to resist him #proximity or attachment to vlad only makes his influence more dangerous and powerful #that being said i dont think the situation is as simple as 'charles can't love an abusive person so vlad can't be abusing him' #quite the contrary im afraid #either charles is so desperate for a solution to the world's ills that he's willing to accept vlad's bloody judgement to get it done #or in some part of charles' heart he thinks he deserves to be treated that way--that its love #whether its both or only one of those options the fact of the matter seems to be that charles isn't entirely aware of the manipulation #and cares about vlad from a personal standpoint #how that will play out in his own route i'm really not sure #but that being said I hope this was helpful! this is all ik for now #you're welcome anytime lovely~ #rambles #not incorrect quotes

[cupcakemolotov]

Twisted Intentions: Chapter Two

@accidental-rambler​ let us not go back and check how long this chapter has been coming, yeah? But I think its finally finished? Probably. We are ending it here, at least.

Everyone please be checking the tags on this one. It is a fairly more darker take than I usually do, these two crazy murder fiends, and there is smut. The first scene below has some murder to it, but nothing smutty. You can find both chapters on A03: Chapter One, Chapter Two.

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Regency; Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon; Possessive Klaus Mikaelson; Vampire Caroline; F/F Smut; M/F smut; Non-Klaroline Smut (referenced); Referenced Threesome F/F/M; Canon-Typical Violence; Not Canon Compliant; Dark Caroline Forbes; Past-Prostitution; Klaroline End Game; no non-con; Suggested Sexual Coercion; Vampire Klaus Mikaelson; Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson; Compulsion; Murder; Dark; Violence; Smut; Orgasm Delay/Denial; Oral Sex; Sex; Murder Kink; Biting; Blood Kink;  Mutual Masturbation  

                                                          -

The pub was quiet so early in the evening, dust lingering the corners the same as the plague lingered on the street. It was not a place she would have willingly visited, but some summons could not be ignored. Casually, she ran her fingers over her lips to make sure she’d cleaned up any of the blood that might have lingered.

Today was her third day as a vampire, and tonight had been her first solo deliberate kill. Her sire had taught her how to compel a man, the taste of a rabbiting pulse against her tongue, the fastest way to a heart with her fingers, and she had taken well to the hunt. Caroline felt no shame in learning to enjoy what she had become, to embrace the choice that she had been given, that she had made.

Some monsters, after all, were not nearly so kind as to show their devil’s bargains with fangs and eyes, though she had learned to recognize them all the same. But while the life of a whore had taught her many things, this new existence had been illuminating. Caroline had learned to avoid the sun, begun to learn the language of the night outside of the stained sheets of her old bedroom, and not once had she gone hungry. Here in the midst of the plague, blood was as easy to steal as the streets made dying, and for the first time in her seventeen years, she felt strong. Powerful. The predator instead of prey, and it was a heady feeling after years of being powerless.

But dangerous. She could not forget the dangers of this new life. Dangerous that she had not yet fully come to recognize. While her sire was indulgent of his newest creations, she was not such a fool to take his pretty did not hide a terrible sort of lethal practicality. Those dimples masked a violence she had caught lingering in his eyes, and every instinct she had warned her that there was more to him than he wanted her to know. He was deliberately mysterious, and while he’d offered so few expectations for their behavior, showing them how best to indulge their sins, and Caroline wondered why.

Compulsion was no idle tool, and though it had opened the world to so many whims, greed was a risk she was not willing to indulge in. Not yet. Humans might easily be bent to her will, but she would do well to remember the lessons she’d learned and been taught in her handful of years. Avarice could leave her the fattened calf for others as easily she could take from those less wise. She was not the only creation her sire had made, and from his offhand comments, age seemed to make a difference in strength.

Better then, to teach herself control, to master every instinct and then indulge only when she controlled every aspect of the experience. She had no intention of letting the gift she had been given control her, not when she’d vowed never again would she have a master except herself.

Never again.

Though she would have to be careful.

Glancing towards the back of the room, she pursed her lips at the trio of men who unknowingly awaited her presence at a table. Caroline recognized two of them from her lessons, though her sire had not introduced her to them. She had not asked to know them, not when she understood how they watched her. Lustful, but stupid.

They thought themselves clever, and the new monster that lived in her bone and marrow that she knew in the back of her throat as hunger, did not approve of their ilk. They’d smelled weak. Eager. It wasn’t her place to judge her sire’s choices, but she’d been certain he’d picked up on her disapproval.

Chosen to be amused rather than offended.

Tonight, the blood that stained their clothing, the scent of sex and death that lingered on their skin did nothing endure her to them. Mixing those pleasures when you had so little control told her that her original assessment had been correct. Wrinkling her nose, Caroline wondered if leaving would be a mark against her.

She was not given the chance to find out.

Awareness and warning prickled down her spine, and Caroline turned to find her sire watching her from the doorway. His lips curled at the edges, a hint of dimple catching in one cheek, and he strode forward to meet her. “Good evening, love. I must say, your new life suits you.”

His eyes dropped from her face to skim her figure, the dimple deepening. Caroline gave the endearment little meaning, he dolled out charm too easily for it to be sincere. But even knowing some of his truth, the impact of him was unavoidable. Her sire was a feast for her eyes and the monster she had become did not find the violence of him unbecoming.

However, the compliment was sincere, so she allowed a smile to touch her lips. Her new dress was well made, but not so expensive to draw attention, but it was pretty and hers. It had been a very long time since she owned her own clothes.

“Thank you.”

His gaze swept back to her face as he approached and offered her his arm. She took it, because she would not be accused of not having manners, and he sighed, head angling as if letting her into his confidence. She took no stock in that either.

“It is a pity that the same cannot be said for the rest.”

Klaus, Caroline had learned, was as mercurial with his violence as he was with his mercy. He’d plucked her from the street as easily as he’d left others to die, had shown her the fastest way to a man’s heart with dimples and bloody clothes. Tonight, there was something in his voice, a hint of roughness that did not bode well for any of them and she had no intention of being a target for that rage.

“They seem to lack some... subtlety,” she agreed.

His smile shifted to a sort of dangerous amusement. “Let’s find out just how little they have exhibited, shall we?”

Very aware that this was not her choice, Caroline merely hummed in agreement and let him escort her to the table. Violence did not frighten her, but something about the way he moved, the pleasant tilt of his lips, was unnerving.

“Hello, lads. It seems that you have enjoyed yourselves.”

They went still in front of her, a court very aware of its king’s displeasure, for all that he was smiling. Lifting Caroline’s hand from his arm, he brushed her knuckles lightly with his lips. “Do make yourself comfortable, sweetheart.”

In the next heartbeat, he’d twisted and was suddenly holding a twitching heart in his left hand. Caroline paused from where she’d gathered her skirts to settle, her heart a thump in her throat at the ease, the speed of his strike. But it wasn’t exactly fear that danced beneath her skin, though wariness had her watching him carefully. Settling the heart casually on the table, he motioned for her to sit on the empty seat.

She sat.

Reaching into his pocket, Klaus removed a handkerchief and meticulously began to clean his hand. “It really is so much easier to deal with baby vampires when the sire bond exists, but I suppose you can’t win them all.” His smile widened at the sudden, sharp stink of fear. “I am a benevolent ruler, but there are some lines that will not be tolerated being crossed. Leaving bodies where they can be found by anyone, even during a plague, will not be allowed. Is that understood?”

Next to them, the body finally toppled to the floor, as if it had finally understood it was dead. Caroline stared at the heartless vampire, considered how quickly his life had been snuffed out, and she arranged her skirts to avoid the growing puddle of blood while wondering why she was here. She had not been so careless with her teeth or metaphorical cock.

Across from her, the remaining vampires stammered their understanding, but when her eyes returned to her sire’s face, it was to find him watching her. There was something about his expression, the set of his jaw, that left her very certain that this mess was much as a message for her as for them, and she worked through the whys. The point of this little warning. This show.

She had no care for these men, and she was certain, neither did her sire. Even with this warning, it was likely the remaining two vampires would be dead within the week. Klaus had never struck her as anything but calculating, even in his whims, and it dawned on her that perhaps that was his point.

Her sire wanted her to see just how easily he would snuff the life from his creations, should it be necessary. Should they make it necessary... Vampires were monsters, but they were hidden, tucked carefully between the shadows of the nights and humanity’s soft dreams of safety.

But if they did, he might offer a quick, clean death. That message was for these men. Her message was tangled in the quickness of the death, the way he had offered her his arm before leading her to this little slaughter. He might find her amusing, might be indulgent of her opinions, but she could not count on that indulgence to save her.

Caroline tipped her in silent acknowledgement of his message. Betrayal, she knew without it being said, would have far more dire consequences.

Link: A03

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #darker than usual #please mind the tags #thank you!

[abject-chaos]

I’ve decided to use chapter titles for now so this chapter is called Chapter 2: Bad Faith

@silvermun This is once again sooner than I anticipated, but enjoy! I’ll reveal the story title in the next chapter! HYPE!!!

As soon as the trio reached the castle a servant was sent to fetch Merlina. As the boy scuttled off Sonic walked briskly through the winding corridor that led to his private study. During his year as king, the spacious yet cluttered office had fallen into disuse as Sonic preferred to perform his duties among the court rather than sit cooped up in a room all day, leading to every inch of the office being covered in a fine layer of dust. Cobwebs clustered in every corner and the lone oak desk at the back of the room was piled high with old paperwork and books. Sonic rushed into the room, disturbing the once-settled dust particles, sending them flying through the musty air causing a dull cloud to form. He took a seat behind the desk, his face nearly blocked from view by the sturdy wall of volumes in front of him.

Sonic looked contemplative as he glared at the spine of the topmost tome: The Dictionary. “Not that I’m not thrilled you’re here-” he began, clearly addressing Shadow with his words rather than his eyes.

“Oh, this should be good,” Shadow grumbled, crossing his arms stiffly across his chest.

“But why and how did you get here exactly?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that I fell through a portal and ended up face down in a field somewhere.”

Sonic snorted softly earning an irritated grunt from Shadow and a brief chuckle from Lance.

Before Sonic could ask any more fruitless questions, Merlina appeared in the doorway sporting a nervous look on her face. “You have need of me, Sire?” she asked, uncharacteristically timid. She seemed to notice Shadow just then and eyed him warily for an instant. Sonic noticed this and nodded sagely, motioning for her to come in. She did so and closed the door behind her.

“Is there something you want to say first?” he asked, fully aware of how uncomfortable she was in Shadow’s presence.

Lancelot and Shadow eyed her curiously. Merlina sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid the conversation. Lancelot leaned against the wall behind Sonic as the witch began to speak, feeling suddenly very protective of the king. Ever since Merlina’s attack on the kingdom, he was taken to avoiding her whenever he could. Sonic, however, did not share his sentiment. “I’m sure you’re all wondering the same thing,” she said, glancing at Shadow then returning her gaze to her hands as she took a seat on the untended leather couch at the lefthand side of the room. “I’m afraid I have some answers.”

“What do you mean you are ‘afraid’?” Lancelot spoke before anybody else had the chance to comment on the wording.

Melina sighed, straightening her posture and looking directly into the king’s eyes. “I had a dream last night… a vision.” At the unexpected news, Sonic sat forward in his chair and moved the pile of books off the desk so that he could see the witch more clearly. Lancelot pushed off from the wall and uncrossed his arms, a rare moment of vulnerable curiosity. “Destruction, ruin, the kingdom razed to the ground. Then I heard a voice telling me that it could be avoided.”

“A voice?” Shadow repeated.

“Yes.”

“And who was the voice? Who spoke to you?” Lancelot inquired.

Merlina paused briefly, gathering her thoughts. “Kilgharrah. An ancient dragon my grandfather spoke of. He said in order to stop the assured destruction of Camelot we would need a saviour from another realm.”

“Okay, but why me?”

“Why not you? You are the ultimate life form.”

“How did you-”

“I have transdimensional knowledge across space and time. I know all who live, all who have lived and all who will ever live. And I know you have the capability to end this senseless destruction.” Shadow seemed caught off-guard for a moment before he schooled his features to remain neutral and unphased. “Sire, I admit I brought him here-” Merlina declared, turning back to address Sonic, “-but I only want what is best for the kingdom. The fact of the matter is that I should have sent you back to your realm sooner for if I had this may have been avoided. But the prophecy is already in motion and because that is so we must act. Please, Sire.”

Sonic was speechless for a moment, though he forcefully shook himself out of his daze and looked at Shadow. The other was turned away from him, glaring at the ground. Sonic ventured to wonder if he was okay with this. “You are excused, Merlina,” he said, still focused on the other standing a little ways from the corner. The witch nodded once then turned to exit, leaving the trio alone. “You too, Lance.”

Lancelot looked like he wanted to argue, but he merely bowed his head and followed Merlina out the door.

Sonic waited until he was certain the others were out of earshot before he spoke. “Are you okay with this?” No answer. “Shadow?” Still no answer. Sonic opened his mouth to ask for a third time before a soft voice stopped him.

“Why did you stay?”

Sonic was confused. “What?”

“If you knew you could go back why did you stay?” Shadow asked, his voice dangerously slow.

“How could I just leave?” Sonic said unhesitatingly, though his voice held a nervous undertone. “These people needed me. Was I just supposed to desert them without a king?”

“Yes, Sonic!” The sudden outburst caught Sonic by surprise and he jumped. “You don’t belong here. How do you not get that? You left behind everyone who ever cared about you to prance around some fairytale land and pretend to be a king? If I hadn’t shown up out of the blue would I have ever seen you again-”

“Yes! Yes, I would have come back-” Sonic desperately proclaimed.

“When? When would you have come back?” A crazed, exasperated laugh passed Shadow’s lips. “You’ve been here for a year. If the thought hadn’t crossed your mind by now it never would have and you know that!”

“That’s not true!”

“Do you even care about the people back home that miss you?” Shadow said and Sonic halted in his speech. “About Tails? About Amy, Knuckles- do you care about me?! I missed you, I was worried, and with no way to contact you for all I knew you could have been dead!”

“I’m not dead, Shad! It was only a week-”

“Not for you! You had no idea that time wouldn’t line up the same way. You had no idea that you didn’t leave us for over a year!” Having gotten that out of his system, crimson eyes glistening with unshed tears, Shadow tried to catch his breath. Sonic could see now how much he hurt his friends, how much he hurt Shadow.

“Shadow, I’m sorry,” Sonic said, reaching out to touch his friend’s shoulder but Shadow simply moved away. A look of betrayal crossed over his face corresponding with the painful sadness that laced the king’s eyes.

“No, I don’t think you are.” Shadow pushed past the smallest feeling of apprehension before he bolted for the door.

“Shadow, wait!”

Sonic knew he could have caught up to him, but he let him go. There was no use going after him when he was like this. It would only push him further away, but as night crawled closer and closer and the sun began to set he started to grow worried.

“I’m getting worried,” Sonic said truthfully as he paced across the width of the throne room, Lancelot and Merlina sitting idly on the dais, having watched the king’s constant marching for over an hour. Merlina was leaning lazily against her palm, animating small images out of the fire in the lit braziers while Lance sat respectfully upright. “I know he doesn’t want me around right now and he can take care of himself, but he doesn’t know where he is or where he’s going and-”

“We understand, Sonic, but if he’s anything like you described he’ll be just fine,” Lancelot reassured, still looking slightly concerned; for his counterpart or for the king Sonic didn’t know.

Sonic stopped his obsessive strides to consider the knight’s words, though the moment was short-lived as he only picked up his pace, much to the annoyance of his company. “Listen, it’s been hours and he hasn’t come back. I know he doesn’t need my help, but I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right, that he’s in some sort of trouble.” He paused once again, the gears in his head turning. Lancelot leaned forward, eager to hear the king’s next words. “I’m going to look for him.”

“What?” Merlina uttered in surprise, the fire puppets dissipating as she straightened.

“He might be in danger and I’m not going to leave him out there alone. I have to go, if only just to check on him.”

“Sire, wait-”

“You can’t stop me, Lance,” Sonic exclaimed as he began marching to the wide mahogany doors of the throne room.

“I wasn’t trying to,” Lance said as he grabbed a hold of Sonic’s shoulder. “I’m coming with you.” The king smiled warmly at the gesture and placed his own gloved hand on the knight’s gauntlet.

“Me too,” Merlina declared, causing the pair to look at her as she strode towards them. “If your instincts hold any merit you might need someone with magic.”

With the help of his capable friends, the king of Camelot began his search for Shadow under the cover of moonlight.

#chapter 2 #bad faith #fanfiction

[oncefutureemrys]

17. "Don't Ask" bc I'm an idiot and send afraid twice

Alright I promise I’ll be getting to your hug haha I just realized that it was nearing the end of April and so I needed to finish this last one before the end.

Thank you to the amazing prompts @night-faye created! You can find them right here.

Also Click Here If You Would Like To Read On AO3!

Anyway, here it is:

Merlin finds Arthur sitting on the edge of his bed, his glassy eyes staring at the wall in front of him.

Merlin knows why he’s like this, understands why he seems so distant, so sad. He sees it in the way he bites his lips, in the way his hands clench beside him, the way his shoulders seem stiff from the tension.

He understands the anger, the hopelessness, the utter shame, and unhappiness. He knows because it’s exactly how he feels, the pain still etched in his mind even weeks after the incident.

Merlin sighs, his body drained from the strain he has been put in since the attack. “Sire,” Merlin says, holding a potion in his hand. Arthur flinches from the sudden sound, turning to look at him. Merlin smiles, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before gently handing him the potion Gaius had instructed to give him. For the pain, he had said. He hadn’t bothered to express which kind.

Arthur takes a whiff of it and wrinkles his nose before shrugging and downing the substance. He sets it down and attempts to relax his shoulders, wincing at how stiff they are, before attempting to massage them himself. When it proves difficult, Merlin bats his hands away.

“Let me,” he insists and Arthur seems too tired to resist. Merlin situates himself behind his back before pressing into his shoulders and neck. Merlin’s about halfway through kneading his shoulders when Arthur breaks the silence.

“It’s surprising.”

“What is?” Merlin asks.

“How you’re actually able to do something.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, scoffing. “I’ll have you know I can do many things.”

“Yes, I’ve seen,” Arthur says, grinning smugly. “I know perfectly well you’re incredibly clumsy, bad-mannered, horribly dumb, and most definitely— “

Merlin presses hard on Arthur’s shoulders. He yelps, turning to see Merlin’s playful smile. Huffing, he looks down, not saying anything else.

It was strange how they could always do this, how even after an incredibly difficult experience, they could always pretend as if everything was normal. Merlin suspected it was largely because they had both been through so much. When they were constantly thrust into intense situations, jokes and banter were their one shield they could hide behind, their one way of pretending all was normal when it was anything but.

The painful silence reminds him of the events that happened a few weeks ago, of the suffocating smoke, the sticky blood that stained his clothes – his or someone else’s blood, he wasn’t sure anymore – the area littered with dead bodies of all the innocent people and—

“Merlin, Merlin,” he hears Arthur say, breaking him out of his thoughts. It’s only then that he realizes his nails were digging into Arthur’s skin, breaking into it and leaving small marks on his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin says horrified, taking his hands off of his immediately, swallowing back the panic. “I am so sorry. I—I can’t believe I would—“

“It’s okay,” Arthur says, but Merlin doesn’t hear him, muttering “I’m sorry,” over and over until Arthur has to reach for his arm. “It’s okay, Merlin.” He looks into his eyes at that moment and Merlin swallows, calming himself as he nods slowly.

Arthur continues to look at him, filled with such intensity that Merlin finds it hard to breathe. His heart beats erratically, his mind fixating on every little detail of the moment – the way his hand lingers on his own, the way his eyes look at his with a hint of something more, something Merlin’s too afraid to name, the way his eyes flicker to his lips. He’s so focused, he doesn’t even realize when he’s starting to lean in, the way he’s starting to mimic the same movements.

Finally coming to his senses, he slowly moves back away from him. Arthur blinks his eyes, his cheeks flushing before reluctantly letting go of his hand, the awkward tension nearly smothering him.

Merlin, not knowing how to react, silently moves to sit next to him, making sure to keep enough space between the two of them. He knows what happened, God that isn’t the first time that it’s happened, but he knows more than anything that they can’t. It was foolish to get his hopes up and believe they ever could.

“Are you feeling alright?” Arthur finally asks, not looking at him.

Merlin raises his eyebrows. “Does it look like I am?”

There’s a silence before, “No, I guess not.”

Merlin sighs, biting his lip. “I’m just… mad, I guess. I don’t even know what happened and just… one second they were there… and the next…”

“…they weren’t,” Arthur finishes and Merlin nods solemnly.

“Merlin, I don’t blame you. For any of it. If anything, I blame myself.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Merlin immediately responds. “You were just trying to help.”

“Yes, and so were you,” Arthur says right back. “We just… we weren’t in time, I guess.”

There’s a brief pause when they both seem to be digesting what the other has said, the past few moments still lingering in their minds. Finally, after some processing, Arthur says:

“You confuse me greatly, Merlin.”

Merlin snorts. “Yes, I do that often, it would seem.”

“You do,” he agrees. “In fact, every time something happens, you always seem to surprise me even more.”

“How so?”

Arthur hesitates a moment before starting. “I just… I’m used to you sacrificing yourself for someone else, God knows you have the worst self-preservation skills known to man. What confuses me is… how you can look so fearless.” Arthur takes one shy look at him before turning away once more to look at his hands. “I mean… I’ve spent years and years training, forcing myself to never show fear, and you on the other hand… Whenever we’re in a dangerous situation, all I see is bravery. And I’ve never known where you got it from.”

Merlin certainly never expected this to be what he was confused about. He shrugs. “I don’t know… I suppose I have a similar feeling that you do. Have to keep people safe and all of that.”

Arthur looks even more confused than before. “But you’re not king. None of this is your concern. You don’t have to do any of this. Which is why I’m confused. Because you always act like you are… even when you aren’t.”

Merlin’s not sure how to respond, not sure how to evade the indirect question, and so he doesn’t. He just sits still, indecision freezing him in place.

When Arthur notices this, he pauses a moment quietly asking, “What are you hiding from me?”

Merlin’s head shoots up to look at him, his eyes widened, his heart beating rapidly. Arthur’s face is surprisingly vulnerable, his eyes longing to know, to understand. He wants to lie once again, play dumb, but then he remembers Morgana and Agravaine and Uther. He reminds himself of everyone who has lied to him, he thinks about Agravaine telling him “how you managed to deceive him” and telling him that “perhaps we’re more alike than you think,” and he decides that maybe, just this once, he won’t lie.

But he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss his magic after the stress he’s experienced over the past few weeks, not sure he can stand another scarring memory, another betrayed look, just weeks after a tragedy. And so instead he takes a deep breath and whispers, “Don’t ask. Don’t ask because I can’t… I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Arthur looks imploringly at him, almost desperate, and Merlin feels guilty for not responding. But he can’t tell them, he’s not ready, and he doesn’t think that Arthur is. After everything Arthur has been through, he’s not ready for another betrayal so quickly.

Arthur, after a while, reluctantly nods, looking away. “You don’t have to tell me,” is what he starts with and Merlin sits up straight, turning to look at him with confusion. “I don’t know what your secrets are or why you can’t trust me with them – but it’s fine. I can live with that. Just promise me—whenever you feel ready… just tell me. I mean, I trust you enough to not need to worry but... one of these days, I’d just like to know you, Merlin. All of you.”

Merlin’s shocked that he had told him that, he was shocked that Arthur trusted him enough not to ask about his secrets. Merlin’s eyes water at this and he has to cough to keep his emotions inside. All of these years of lying and being terrified of this moment, to have Arthur tell him that he trusts him despite his secrets and his lies… he has the urge to hug him, even though he knows Arthur wouldn’t be happy about that. Merlin finds himself nodding solemnly. “Okay,” he says, hoping his gaze will tell him how much this means to him, just how thankful he is for him, just how much he absolutely loves him at this moment. “I promise.”

Anyway, that was that! Thanks for reading! I appreciate anyone who does!

#merlin/arthur #pre-slash #two bros just having a deep convo at night #not gay at all #there is no gay here #season four spoilers for the show #cause i mention agravaine #so i guess thats kinda a thing? #also some angst #but some hopeful ending on the side there #thank you for reading!

[secret-engima]

Butbutbut! You never said where /Crowe/ ends up. Where's she? Is she even in Konoha?

Crowe is in Konoha, just as a year older and where she lives she’s never encountered Sasuke. *waggles eyebrows*. But sure have a RAMBLE.

...

Niko is not like other Inuzuka. She is not loud and demanding like many of her Clan, like the loud barking of their dogs, nor is she growling and rough like the members who take more after the wolf blood said to run in their veins. Even so, there is something ... feral about Inuzuka Niko. Something wild and brittle. Some people murmur that she’s more wildcat than dog, eyes too keen and tongue too sharp, preferring the company of herself or the new puppies over the company of the pack and Clan at large.

She wasn’t ... ALWAYS like that, the Clan knows. But an incident as a young child of four that ended with her nearly drowning in the river seemed to have knocked something loose in her head. She got quieter, wilder, her eyes keen and paranoid, wary of being around too many of the Clan at once.

Her father had introduced her to pups early in the hopes it would smooth her rough edges again, but even after the reacclimatized into the Clan, she was never the same. There was something feral and angry in her eyes now, something brutal and efficient in the way she trained.

In another Clan, perhaps this would have been cause for more alarm, or even paranoia of an enemy plant. But this was the Inuzuka. They were all a little feral and crazy at heart, Niko just showed it in a different way. So no one really asks why the river incident made her feral and she never tells. But the truth is...

Niko remembers dying. She remembers being someone else, an orphan, angry at the world, a glaive, with two brothers at her side.

A dead woman, lying on the ground screaming in rage and pain from the bullet in her side as one of her comrades (one of her trusted, one of her FRIENDS) watches her with dark eyes and raises the gun to put a bullet through her chest.

Niko remembers being Crowe, and Crowe was slaughtered by a Kinslayer (because they weren’t Clan but they were GLAIVES, they had fought and bled side by side and didn’t that make them just as much kin in the eyes of the Old Laws as any braid in their hair?).

Now ... now she is awake. Awake and wary of betrayal again, wary of this world of ninja who flaunt their ability to lie and kill and betray yet preach the Will of Fire in the same breath. On some level, the part of her that is Niko, four years old and naive, thinks it makes perfect sense. Will of Fire is for Pack, lying and killing is what you do to the enemy.

But Crowe, in the back of her mind, asks what happens if someone decides she counts as an “enemy” despite her blood relation to the Clan, despite her Clan’s spot in Konoha?

It takes a long time to settle, and by that point her father has her playing and caring for the Clan puppies on a regular basis. Caring for them soothes her. She had always loved animals in her last life, and nin-dogs were special. All of them. From the littlest puppies to the grizzled old veterans.

She is six when she gets nin-dogs of her own. A little trio of pups who were inseparable, all wiggling and happy and yipping at everything and nothing. Their fur is soft and thick, their tails curled over on themselves like akita, though they will grow far bigger than any akita dog. Their coats are distinctive, a red brindle, a black reverse brindle, and a regular red. She names them Daidaimaru, Kiimaru, and Muramaru respectively, as is the tradition. In private, she calls them her Team Cerberus as she carefully weaves the Clan Altius braid into her hair (she may be an Inuzuka, she may be in some other era or world or what have you, but she is still an Altius and an Altius she will remain).

She doesn’t expect to get another nin-dog. She’s bonded with her three pups and she is happy with that. Very few Inuzuka ever bond with more than three, and three is an uncommon number or a Ninja/Nin-dog partnership as it was.

Then she finds Kon.

She is eight and the village is on edge, tight and frightened by the sudden massacre of the Uchiha Clan, and the tension drives Crowe to flee into the clan grounds for some peace and quiet with her pups. They are playing in the stream when they hear the heavy, limping tread of a stranger and smell blood on the faint breeze. Crowe is on her feet in an instant, hand going to the real kunai she stole from her big brother’s stash, and her pups growl little squeaky growls that are not menacing in the slightest.

Out of the forest steps the largest non-Clan wolf Crowe as ever seen. On an adult ninja he could come up to the thigh, easily, and a glance at the too-large size of his paws and disproportionately large ears on his head tell her that this stranger is still a PUP. Older than the Cerberus triplets, but probably not by more then a few months. They stare at each other for a long time, bright gold eyes in a black furred face staring into her own dark brown eyes before he whimpers and drops his head in submission, his body listing to one side as he does.

Crowe forgets all about the tension in the Clan and the drama of the Massacre as she cautiously inches closer and closer to the wheezing pup. He lets her get close, lets her see the long, bloody gashes down his side and clumsily bandage them before leading him home to the vets. She ends up having to stay with him during the treatment process, because he snarls and snaps at anyone who isn't her.

She isn’t sure why he trusts her.

In the end, the vet concludes that he’s half Inuzuka dog, which might be why he stumbled into the Clan grounds, though no one can determine who his sire is (they think his sire is dead, killed on mission, which is why none of their dogs steps forward to take responsibility). His other half is wolf. Not just any wolf either, but the special mutation of wolf that lives in Training Ground 44, the Forest of Death that Crowe has heard some of her relatives tell horror stories about. No one knows why he left the grounds and came here, and no one quite know what to do with him. He’s feral, intelligent as a nin-dog but not socialized like one, and no one is going to trust him around their children as a partner.

Except Crowe. Crowe who sneaks into the vet’s office every night to feed him strips of meat and tell him stories, Crowe who looks into his eyes and sees the same feral, knowing edge. The edge that came from staring death in the face too young and knowing what it is to wake up afterward. The edge that came from being betrayed by someone trusted and not knowing how to take it. Crowe who does not force him to submit, but instead sits outside his kennel and whispers stories to him that she has told no one else. Not even her pups. The Old Stories and Clan Songs, the meaning of the braid in her hair.

He watches her with too-wise eyes and in the dark of night, noses through the kennel bars to lick her hand in comfort.

When he is well enough to be let out of the vet’s office, the Clan watches in tense bewilderment as he strides right to Crowe, gently licks the heads of the smaller pups, and then sits down at her feet with a defiant, steady look in his eyes.

He has chosen her. And Crowe will not turn him aside. She names him Konmaru, after the deep blue-black of his fur, unbroken by even a speck of white or grey.

He will grow huge as he gets older. While the Cerberus Triplets will grow up to a normal size for their breed of Nin-dogs, up to Crowe’s waist and no higher, Konmaru quickly sprouts into a bear of a beast, up to an adult’s elbow by the end of his first year, then up to the shoulder of the Inuzuka Clan head. His frame fills out to match, and people stare whenever Crowe parades by with her little Pack, a trio of hip high Akita and then a massive bear-sized wolf indulgently padding along at her heels.

The vet tells her once that, if he were a pure wolf from the Forest of Death, he would be even bigger, probably growing to the size of a small building, but the Inuzuka breed blood that lets him access chakra and learn to speak also keeps him relatively small in size.

Konmaru is patient and quiet for such a young dog, unlike the excitable Cerberus trio, and very observant.

It’s Konmaru that quietly tells her of the boy in the year below them at school who has a braid hidden in her hair like hers.

Crowe’s heart is in her mouth and she lingers after school that day, watching the younger kids. Konmaru chuffs when he spots the boy he meant and Crowe feels something sick in her gut when she spots the Uchiha boy, chatting happily with another boy, about a year older then him who is not in her class. She drifts closer and sees-.

Ulric Chief braid.

Ostium Chief Braid.

Her voice is a sob as she storms over to them, a bristling trio at her heels and Konmaru languidly towering at her back, “You two absolute, morons!” She yells and their eyes blow wide in shock and hope because she’s yelling in old Galahdian, uncaring of who hears. They spot the braid twisting through her hair and the older boy’s (Libertus’s) face crumbles as he cannons into her with a sob of her old name.

She ends up spending the night at Nyx’s compound, cuddling her brothers while her dogs sprawl around like a living perimeter as they exchange stories of all that happened.

Crowe remembers hearing of the massacre, and now that she knows it was NYX who was the only survivor, she feels sick.

Nyx tells her not to worry about it.

Crowe does anyway.

Konmaru gently flops his massive head on Nyx’s stomach, causing the boy to cough from lost air, and Konmaru rumbles in gentle amusement, “I like this one,” he announces in a bass voice far too deep for his young age, “even if he smells like cat.”

And that is that.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Calling for Rain verse #crowe altius #crowe #inuzuka #mwahahaha

[songbird-and-her-fos]

Rejected Memories

Rahab wants to find out more about Sultana. Which is pretty difficult when she herself doesn’t remember who she was before her siring.

Rahab did not know how much Sultana remembered of her life as a human. The topic had simply never come up. She had never made any reference to any kind of memory reaching that far back.

He knew that, in theory, she should be able to remember everything. A soul‘s memory faded with time, that much was true, but Sultana hadn‘t even been dead for a day when he sired her.

So he thought he would be doing her a favor when he asked:„Do you want to visit your old village with me?“

She looked up at him, brows knit in confusion. „My old… village, Master?“

„Yes. The place where you grew up.“ He paused for a moment. „...where we first met?“

„I… I don‘t remember a village. Or meeting you before I opened my eyes after my siring.“

Now his curiosity was definitely piqued. He knew little more than the basics of her human life. That she came from said village, her father had been the victim of a mining accident that cost the empire a whole silver mine when she was an adolescent, and she had inherited a house and a fortune from a childless old fool who had taken a shine to her. Were her memories of her human life so painful that her soul repressed them upon her resurrection?

Now she looked at him inquisitively. „Do you… know who I was when I was human, Master?“

„I know… a few things“, he cautiously admitted. „You were an orphan. Quiet, reclusive. But… kind, I think. An herbalist. I remember entering your home for the first time and seeing dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. Help you offered, but nobody accepted.“

„My home“, she repeated, as if the words left an odd taste in her mouth. „And you would really take me there?“

„Of course. I offered it, didn‘t I? What reason do you have to doubt my words?“

She looked off to the side. „When I awoke, you told me that who I was doesn‘t matter; that all that counts is what I am now.“

That was before I loved you, he wanted to say. Back when he had sired her as just another member of his clan. Another addition to his numbers. Before he wanted to know more about her. Then again, in her lack of recollection of her human life, he felt a strange sort of kinship with her. The only difference was that his past was definitely lost to the oceans of aeons, while hers was merely a few hours on horseback away. And maybe remembering would give her some much-needed certainty in her self. „Well, I changed my mind.“

„Oh… I see.“ She tentatively licked her lips. „I think I would like to see my old village.“

He got up. „I‘ll have my horse saddled.“

Not much later, they were there. The village was just as small and squalid looking as it had been during his last visit. Granted, the villagers hadn‘t exactly made the best impression on him in the past. First open treason commited by their blacksmith just three decades ago, then one decade ago… Rahab‘s eyes flickered to Sultana, who was sitting in front of him on the horse, holding onto its mane.

Murder as retaliation for a betrayal she hadn‘t even committed. Yet.

He stopped the horse at the lake the village had been built at. „Seeing anything that jogs your memory yet?“, he asked.

Sultana looked around. Then her heard her inhale sharply when she saw the burned-down remains of a small hut that probably had been humble looking even when compared to the other homes nearby.

She dismounted and walked up to the charred ruins. Walked around them. There was nothing left of the interior; what hadn‘t burned had been stolen. Yet Sultana looked around and mumbled to herself.

Then, when Rahab approached, he saw her eyes glistening.

„Sultana?“

„Why would they burn down my home?“ There was so much pain in this one question.

He took another step towards her. „So you remember?“

„Not much“, she replied. „Just that this was my home. And… some little bits and pieces. How I sat at the lake weaving flower crowns when I was a little girl. How I struggled to keep the fire in the stove lit during winter nights.“ She paused. „Is this where you first met me?“

Rahab shook his head. „No. When you were older, you lived… somewhere else. Though I fear that your other home fared no better than this one. Do you still want to see it?“

She gave the burned down hut a last sad look before turning to him with determination in her eyes. „Yes. Please.“

Sultana‘s „other home“ had indeed also been ransacked and burned down. However, since the house had once belonged to the only man in the village who could be called „wealthy“ by any stretch of the imagination, there was still more left of it than of the hut. The foundation and the first floor were still mostly intact, though obviously in danger of collapsing. Sultana hesitated for a brief second before slipping past the scorched entrance and into what used to be a living room, with the only thing still recognizable being the fireplace in front of which Sultana used to sit and read.

„This is where we first met“, Rahab said, mostly to break through the uncomfortable silence.

„Yes“, she replied. „I think I remember now. I was… sitting here. Reading. When I heard a knock at the door. And there you were. To tell me that I needed to spy on the villagers for you.“

„An excuse. In truth, one of my children I had tasked with keeping an eye on the village had told me you would make an excellent addition to the clan. So I came here to… assess you.“

„And?“, she asked, a bit of warmth and even humor returning to her voice. „Did I make a good impression?“

„You wouldn‘t be here right now if you hadn‘t“, he replied with a soft chuckle. Then he paused. Feelings didn‘t come to him easily; he had repressed most of them for a long time. Feelings were weakness. They could be exploited. Yet driven by a sudden burst of emotion, he added:„Little did I know just how precious you would become to me.“

She turned around to him now, a light shade of pink lighting up her cheeks. „Would you have acted differently then?“

„Probably“, he admitted. „Is that important to you?“

She gently shook her head. „Not at all. After all, it doesn‘t matter who we were. Who we are now is much more important.“

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as the true meaning of his own words became clear to him. „Let‘s go home, my songbird.“

#Through the Oceans of Aeons #selfship writing #I wanted to write a little something about Rahab and my S/I

[pjoseries]

alyssa love!!! i’m so happy for u!! you are incredible and one of the first people i started talking to on here so 🥺🥺🥺 may i request 🥰 and ✨ 11. angst for merthur ;)

🥰  grace, my icon, my merlin comrade in arms, i ADORE you 🥺🥺🥺 i love all the writing you send me and ur thoughts and takes are quite literally god tier. i can’t believe we share the same braincell !!!! ur amazing and a wonderful person to talk to and i’m so glad i’m one of the first people u started talking to it’s a high honor honestly 

✨ “Can you shut up for once in your life?” (ao3 link)

══════════════════

Arthur believed his birth was a curse. The fact of this was cemented by the knowledge that his mother had died the moment he took his first breath. He had spent much of his early years hating his birthday, hating how his father was always looking at him with a tainted sense of happiness, hating how everyone was celebrating his birth while the memory of their queen had crumbled like the ash that was always left after a pyre execution. 

Then his father was stabbed on his birthday while Arthur laid there, drugged out of his wits, cradling his dying father. It seemed that all his birth had caused was a reign of blood. 

Perhaps, all that a Pendragon name meant was to die a painful, bloody death. 

Sometimes Arthur wondered if he was going to die in the heat of a battle, a fallen soldier. An honourable death. If he was to die young. If he was to die betrayed by one of his closest friends. Or if he was to die by his own kin. 

Knowing one’s end is a terrible way to live. Arthur wasn’t sure if he could stomach that knowledge, could hold the weight of that burden on his shoulders. 

“You look pensive,” Merlin suddenly spoke, startling Arthur. 

He flinched, just slightly, but enough for Merlin’s eyes to catch. Arthur could tell by the way the space between Merlin’s eyebrows were just slightly pinched. Damn. 

“Yes, well, it’s been known to occur given that I’m the king,” Arthur retorted, somewhat blandly. He twirled his mother’s ring absentmindedly and continued, “I have quite a few things to think over.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but placed his dinner down, sitting next to him. “No birthday celebration this year?”

“No.”

“Sad. A feast might’ve livened up the castle a bit,” Merlin said. “Everyone’s been a bit glum ever since you broke things off with Gw…” He paused. “Yeah, it’s been sad.”

“It’s not a crime to say Guinevere’s name.” The memory of her betrayal hurt less as time passed. A distant, dull ache, more of an old wound that acted up when it was cold than the fresh sting it was months ago. “She’s still in Camelot.”

He had spoken to her a few days prior. Their conversation was awkward and stilted, but there was an honesty to her words that left him feeling raw and open. 

“I loved you, Arthur, with all my heart. But you share yours with another,” she said, clutching a piece of spare cloth in her hands. “As I did with mine.”

“Guinevere, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur asked, taking a step towards her, one hand outstretched. She shook her head and let the spare cloth fall to the wayside as she took his hand in hers. She brought it up and kissed him gently on his knuckles.

It felt like a release and a goodbye all at once. 

“Oh, Arthur,” she sighed, smiling sadly. “You do.”

It wasn’t until he had walked back to his chambers and saw Merlin, stupid, clumsy, idiotic, incredibly loyal Merlin, waiting for him with a hot bath, lips quirked up into a grin when he knew exactly what Guinevere had meant. Arthur remembered stumbling into his bath, feeling shy all of a sudden as he got undressed with Merlin in the room. He was relieved when Merlin finally left to sleep, so Arthur could ponder how he could let his feelings for Merlin slip under his attention. 

Knights fell in bed with one another, he knew that quite well. But Arthur’s body was not his own. His was for Camelot ever since his conception. He had to marry and give Camelot her queen, he had to sire an heir to continue his legacy. 

His rational mind knew Arthur couldn’t love Merlin. But hearts rarely listened to whatever the mind had to say. 

With Guinevere, at least she was a woman. His council, especially his father’s old members, would’ve protested heavily, but they knew he would eventually give them an heir to secure the future of the kingdom. 

“It’s a bit awkward though, isn’t it?” Merlin said, picking up one of Arthur’s bread rolls and biting into it. He was still chewing while he continued, “And you should celebrate your birthday, Arthur. You’re the king.”

Arthur watched as Merlin filled his goblet and drank from it. He almost snorted. Merlin really had no propriety. He almost wanted to hit himself for thinking of that so fondly. “My birthday doesn’t exactly bring up the best of memories for me.”

“I know,” Merlin said in his softest voice. Arthur felt himself ache with longing. “I just don’t want you to be alone with your thoughts.”

Arthur’s gut instinct was to say, But I won’t be alone. You’ll be here with me. But he refrained. Instead, he said, a little more harshly than he intended, “Can you shut up for once in your life, Merlin?” He instantly regretted it, but Merlin’s soft gaze already shuttered away. 

“Yes, sire,” Merlin said tonelessly. He stood back up, stiff and unyielding. “If there’s anything else I can help you with, or can I take my leave?”

Stay, his heart pleaded. His mouth said, “Go.”

Within seconds, Arthur was alone. He picked up the goblet Merlin filled and stared at it for a few moments. He tipped the goblet down his throat and drank, pretending that it was Merlin’s lips he tasted and not the cold metal and warm wine. 

══════════════════

ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴍʏ 600 ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #merlin x arthur #i had SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS #I WASN'T EXPECTING FOR IT TO BE THIS KIND OF ANGST #BUT HONESTLY IT HITS DIFFERENT #SDAHKFGSJDHF #grace tag #alyssa's 600 #je réponds #la poste #f: merlin #p: merthur #my writing #* #t: ask #biclarisselarue #fic: separate the two of us

[mystery-salad]

I'm half asleep and can't think of any characters off the top of my head so you can choose but #17 blease. "Nothing is wrong with you."

Oh man I know exactly what I wana do here let’s see if I can get my first piece for Kai out. It’ll be a bit of a time lapse through Icebrood Saga.

“Nothing is wrong with you.”

Arms crossed and arched upright, Kai stared down at her teammate locked in the cell. “Figured my warning to stay alert was taken seriously, turns out I was wrong.”

Braham’s gaze wavers, but to his credit he doesn’t look away. More determination than Kai had expected from him for a while. “I’ve bailed you out, but if this happens again Eirsson you’re on your own and the team moves out regardless.” It earns her an elbow from Caithe at her side and a mumble of being too hard on the guy, but she elects to ignore that for now. He needed to learn the gravity of the situation and she’s been on edge enough without setting foot in a jail she would’ve likely ended up in herself if she had any other job.

“Just grab your shit and lets go.” She unlocks the cell before tossing the keys back onto the warden’s desk, stepping back enough for Braham to pass her and grab his belongings. Burn her, she hopes he didn’t have that bow on him-

“Uh...where’s my bow?” He sounded as on edge as she felt now, asking the warden about it.

“Fuck...”

—————————

She was already uneasy following the commands of another charr again, even if Almorra herself hadn’t touched the legions since leaving to start the Vigil. The call just...rubbed her fur the wrong way.

Turns out, standing in the middle of a keep strewn with dead bodies, her hunch was unfortunately correct.

“Alva. She was...she was one of my guild mates.”

Kai felt a twinge at that, one she elected steadfastly to buckle down on. The past isn’t a place to dwell when the present holds danger. “Keep steady Eirsson. They’re just bodies now, and we’ve got a job to do. Enemy could still be close.”

“...I did...I failed them.” She turned to look at Braham when it was clear he wasn’t hearing her, spotting him kneeled over the crumpled body of, presumably, Alva. Poor girl looked around his age...young.

Shaking her head, Kai strode quickly over to him and put a paw on his shoulder. “We have to keep focused Eirsson. Stay on task. You can mourn after the threat is neutralized.”

He met her gaze again, wavering less but far more unsure, before he gave a nod and stood to continue on. A motion that was interrupted by the sudden sound of a door slamming open in the silence.

“Look. It...it opened.”

—————————

“They...how is this...they betrayed Almorra and Jhavi...killed all those people...”

She let out a frustrated huff as she turned to Braham. “Who are you talking about, the sons of svanir? We already knew that mu-”

“My guildmates...” she could hear the strain in his voice as he said it, and felt that twinge again. And pushed it down again.

“...come on, we need to keep moving.”

———��—————

“Wait... Braham Vowbreaker? Raven led you here?”

“Vowbreaker?”

Kai hadn’t met Jhavi before now, had no idea what to make of the apparent legendary daughter. But she wasn’t a fan of how familiar this conversation felt. The twinge was back and getting harder to ignore.

“Oh didn't you know?” Olar, she presumed, stepped closer to the team. To Braham. “That's what they call you in the Shiverpeaks now.”

Burn me...

“I...I own my mistakes, Olar. Now it's your turn.” To his credit, the kid wasn’t shaking. He stood his ground better than she expected given what he’d just been told. But this wasn’t the time for it.

Putting a hand on his shoulder again, she gave Braham a firm pull. “Stand down and step back Eirsson.”

She could see a familiar fire in his eyes as he opened his mouth to defy her. The twinge snapped, and her claws dug into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood as she growled. “I said stand the fuck down Braham!”

That seemed to work, for the moment at least. She’d startled him enough to break the building tension between him and his old guild, for long enough to get through. “You don’t want this on your hands kid. It’s not the same as fighting Icebrood. Take my offer, stand back before it gets worse or I will make you.” There would be a solid silence, save for his old guild still trying to jeer him on. But she kept a firm hold and kept his eyes on her while he thought it over and finally, thankfully gave a tired nod. “Good choice.”

It didn’t take much to nudge him behind the group now that he’d go willingly, and she threw a warning glance at Jhavi before aiming her pistol at what was left of Braham’s old guild.

—————————

She’s always kept to herself, even out here in the cold. She guesses some habits break harder than others even as she put effort in. But small steps still add up to progress. Caithe sat flush against her side by the second fire, clearly determined to steal as much insulation from her fur as possible.

“...you really should talk to him”

She glanced down at the sylvari, a bit surprised by the break in the silent evening. “Talk to who?”

“You know exactly who.” Caithe met her gaze with a small frown, something Kai had come to understand meant disappointment. “We both needed someone when we hit our lowest. The team is sweet but they aren’t going to understand what happened like you do. I know you get it. You stopped him from making the same mistake, now help him figure out how to stop himself.”

She rolled her eyes up to the cloudy sky, acting a lot more exasperated than necessary as she hid her discomfort. “You’re joining the other fire and telling him for me. If I go over there they’ll all think they’re in trouble again.”

Caithe stood in response, expression softening as she leaned up to kiss Kai’s muzzle. “Try to relax so you don’t start a fight, you both need this.” The charr let out an indignant huff in response, watching Caithe join the team and shortly after watching a much bigger silhouette walk warily over to her more private location.

“...Eirsson.” A gesture to a seatacross from her brought Braham to eye level over the fire. He was clearly uneasy and she knew the team was still adjusting to her efforts to be less...harsh. “Relax a bit, I’m not going to bite your head off and you’re gonna waste your energy like that.”

The words seemed to help.

...a little.

“Look, I just wanted to say...you did good out there. Given the situation. You’ve followed orders from the start even if you don’t seem to hear em half the time here.”

He seemed surprised by the words, compliments were never Kai’s strongsuit on the best of days and, to her own chagrin now, she realized this was probably the first time she really praised someone on the team. But that was a concern for when there weren’t more pressing topics.

“...Jhavi called you Oathbreaker. Said all the norn call you that now.”

She could see his wince lit up by the fire, showing well how he felt about it. Yet he was still trying to put on a brave face. “I left my team, we’d...failed to take down Jormag, and I ran. I broke my oath.”

She gave a small nod in response, “You did break an oath. But it wasn’t one you could’ve capably kept with a small team anyways. Jormag was coming whether you fought or not. As were betrayals.”

“No! It was my destiny, I followed the legend! I cracked the tooth, and then I failed. I broke my oath and now everyone’s paying for it because I couldn’t do what I was supposed to.” His voice wavered and his gaze broke from hers at last to look down at the flames dancing between the two.

“...I failed too, you know.” Her posture was tense as she spoke, a tale she’d never truly be prepared to share herself, and never had since it was infamous enough. But now it was needed. “Got all the way to the flame legion camp only to find out my right hand already betrayed me. The only blood on my fur that day was from my own legion.”

Braham was silent. Whether from a lack of listening or surprise that she was sharing, Kai had no idea. But she pressed on. “Found out only after I got back from another job that my running for tribune had been rejected, and I was no longer welcome. I killed a lot of legionaries that day. To away from a life sentence.” She took a deep breath, shakier than she’d like to admit and thankful for the wavering flames creating too much motion for Braham to notice if he looked back up. “You fucked up kid. But that doesn’t mean everything halts until you make it right. Some things are too fucked to fix, and you’ve just gotta move forward to the next option.”

She let the silence hang as she gathered her own thoughts again after saying all that. To her surprise, Braham spoke up in her place. “...I was supposed to live up to my mom. She’s supposed to be proud of m-“

“No. Fuck legacy. I don’t care who your mom was, you’re the person on my team. All I want you to live up to is your own potential here. Nothing is wrong with you Braham.”

“My mother was a great warrior!” He seemed to bristle at the idea of throwing that away.

“She was, yeah. So were my sires. And you know what? That legacy did jack shit for my own life once I didn’t perfectly meet the bloodline standard. You can hold her up on whatever pedestal you want, but it better not be over your fucking own.” Her fur stood on her end, on the verge of snarling as she spat out more information she hadn’t intended to share but realized she needed to. “The team wants you here, not Eir. At the very least, respect that fact and do what you’re here to do instead of what the norn want you to do.”

All the energy left Braham at once, the momentary aggression, the wariness of being lectured, everything. He slumped in his seat low enough that Kai actually had to tilt her head down a little. “...you really think we can do this?”

She couldn’t help an indignant snort at that. “Think? We’ve dealt with worse. Whatever’s going on here won’t last. We will.”

#nyokkai #long post #WOW that got long whoops #rookfern #got carried away #icebrood saga #icebrood saga spoilers

[doritopaw101]

Arc1, book 3: Chapter 1

-Dream Start-

The forest was dark and tense. It smelled like fox-dung and death. There were bones scattered around and whispers could be heard. This was a hellhole in every aspect; it felt like you were being watched, and the eyes on the trees didn't help. They didn't seem to go away no matter what you did to them, they would just bleed and spread.

A white tom struggled to soothe his nerves as he stumbled back from the tree. He looked at his bloodied paw, not liking that the eyes seemed to move from the trees and spread to his paw. He wiped it on the red grass.

"Hello?" he called.

He spotted amber eyes from a bush and a pair of green with amber highlights. He looked away and at the sky but he instantly regretted it.

"What is going on? What is this place?" He closed his eyes, staring at the red sky made him sick.

"A place where the cats who don't fear go to, Icefire."

He whipped his head to see Redtail, a smirk on his face. The throat wound that killed him was present but wasn't bleeding as he saw with the tortie molly. His fur also looked wet and water dripped as he walked. Icefire realized that he was no longer sitting on red grass, but was on a somewhat clear blue surface. "Redtail? What's happening? What was that?"

"Something you'll know in due time. For now, I want to know how well you're fitting into the deputy role."

Icefire didn't appreciate that Redtail brushed off his question, but he didn't voice that. "I'm doing well according to Bluestar- we chased off a fox."

"A fox you say?" Redtail sounded amused.

"It was a young one- didn't want it to settle in our territory. We've been on the lookout for coyotes lately, and the apprentices got the chance to see a deer. Swiftpaw and Maplepaw even rode one."

"What about my killers?" Redtail growled, eyes narrowing. "What about them? Why didn't Bluestar have them killed?"

"It's a struggle for her since she raised them… but other than that, your guess is as good as mine," Icefire replied.

"She raised me. She shouldn't be moping in her den," Redtail growled. "That's not my mother."

"She went through a betrayal," Icefire pointed out. "I'm sure she'll snap out of it soon."

"Like she snapped at Miststrike?" Redtail inquired. "Served her right, as well as all the other tiger blood."

"It's not her fault!" Icefire snapped. "She didn't know her littermates were traitors."

"If two of them are rotten, what's stopping the others?" Redtail asked.

"That's not how they are, that's why." Icefire backed away from the tortie tom. He honestly didn't want these thoughts in his head right now. "Where's Goosefeather? Because if you're here to talk shit about Tiger-roar's kin, I want out."

Redtail shrugged. "Who knows where he is."

"Can you at least tell me the tortie molly's name?"

Redtail chuckled as everything was starting to fade around him. "Her name is Mapleshade, and the tortie tom you've probably seen with her is her son Patchshade."

-Dream End-

Icefire gasped as he woke. He could feel his heart thumping. He tried to calm his breathing down, but it didn't help. He started hyperventilating and felt dizziness creeping on him, but he felt Raveneye's paw pull his head into their belly fur.

"Bad dream?"

Icefire hummed. It could be seen as a bad dream. He didn't want to tell Raveneye about what he saw.

"Dewflare?"

He hummed again. Raveneye smelled like hay and lust. They've been to see Barley again. That barn cat can do things.

"Wicked shrew. Want to go hunting?"

"Sure."

He slowly stretched, gazing around the den; cats were still asleep or were too tired to really move. Patrols had been doubles since Tiger-roar and Nightshade's exile, didn't help when they found two dead kittypet bodies from where they found Fuzzypelt's. It turned out to be Bluestar's kittypet mates: Cookie and Wallie. They found a kitten among the four dead kittens by Cookie's body. Bluestar named the kitten Milk-kit and was under the watch of Nettlemist. Frostbite's kits: Lightkit and Whitekit had been killed during the battle by Lizardstripe.

It had been discovered that Lizardstripe and Mudfoot had more kits, the single kit was given over to Shadowclan quickly.

Thunderclan had an elite for the first time since Oakstar's reign from Smallear's words. Bluestar had promoted several apprentices for a stronger fighting force.

Silverstream had been stuck in camp for a few more days but when she was leaving Graystripe decided moved to Riverclan. He was shocked honestly but sent his good wishes.

He didn't care much about that like the older warriors did, what he did care about was Sunnypaw. Chestnutclaw had been the one to find her, bleeding and half blind. Her vocal cords had been slashed making talking very difficult and painful for his daughter. She was jumpy and didn't like being alone at all. He broke him seeing his kit so distressed and not being able to take it away. Frostbite was doing her best to teach Sunnypaw paw-speak and claw-scratch.

He and Raveneye padded out of camp. The sun's rays were weak for the moment which he was grateful for. He sat down close to the prey pile, washing his face. He noticed Raveneye huff before starting to paw and sort the pile. Icefire knew Raveneye liked the prey pile in order and hated dirt on his prey. Yellowfang grumbled all about how Thymeroot and Raveneye were neat freaks, it caused Yellowfang's white fur to show more. Though it fun to watch the clan screech when they saw Yellowfang had white fur.

"Let's go, we'll eat when we get back," Raveneye mewed, then added, "With no dirt on our kills."

Icefire murmured a reply and followed him. If only it were that easy. "P..Pa..pa?" he turned his head to see Sunnypaw, her eyes soft. He went over and quickly nuzzled his kit.

"You shouldn't be talking sweetie" he mewed softly "Doesn't it hurt?"

[Wouldn't have heard me]

"I'm surprised Chestnutclaw didn't wake up" the tom took to staying close to Sunnypaw since her attack, despite their issues Icefire admired the protectiveness.

Sunnypaw whimpered against him [Can I come with you?] she signed [Please?]

"Yes, of course," Icefire mewed. "Just stay close to me and Raveneye" Who knows if Tiger-roar or Nightshade were still close to the territory.

Raveneye chuckled. "Let's go then before your father has to assign patrols."

The early day was bringing great prey. He'd caught two voles so far, with Raveneye catching a dove and a thrush. He saw his kit going back and forth from bushes and trees. He hoped she caught some prey by now though it had been the first time she's been out of camp.

"I think we should head back," Icefire mewed. "The sun is rising."

"Alright. Sunnypaw, come on. We're leaving."

No response came. The apprentice wan't in sight. Panic flooded Icefire as he ran forward and tried to follow his kits' scent.

"Sunnypaw!" he yowled.

"Where are you?" Raveneye called.

Icefire caught her scent. Quickly he dashed after it before he skidded to a sudden halt. He stopped Raveneye from leaping forward, blocking the moggy with his tail. Raveneye opened their jaws to protest but quickly shut them again at what he saw in front of him.

Sunnypaw was sitting down, shaking and her breathing fast. Icefire rushed over and held onto his daughter. Sunnypaw tried to fight him but he didn't let go.

"Sunny Sunny it's me, Icefire" he said softly

Sunnypaw clung to his pelt, whimpering softly

"I'm here" He soothed.

Raveneye curled their tail around Sunnypaw and slowly licked her ears. They stayed like that for a while, the soft sobs of the apprentice and the birds chirping were the only things audible.

By the time they made it back to camp, Leopardstorm and Goldenflower were on the deputy rock assigning patrols. Icefire quickly jumped up, nodding to Leopardstorm and Goldenflower. "Thank you. Sorry that I'm late- who did you two assign?"

"I had assigned Sandstorm to lead a hunting near Snakerocks," Leopardstorm replied.

"I had Mousefur assigned to lead a patrol at Sunningrocks," Goldenflower added.

"Not a small patrol I hope. The last thing we need is more death."

"Of course not," Goldenflower mewed. "Though I want to assign Seedspots on a hunting patrol."

"She's complaining again?"

"Unfortunately" Goldenflower sighed. "I know having kits can be tough but..."

"At least her kits are watched," Icefire mewed. "Nettlemist needs more credit than he's given."

"Indeed he does" Leopardstorm agreed

Icefire turned his head when he realized that Stagtail had been standing there, waiting for him to finish speaking with Leopardstorm and Goldenflower. "Er, sorry. Do you need something?"

Stagtail nodded. "Can I take a patrol to the ShadowClan border? I heard about the attack, and about Embereyes almost being killed…'' she trailed off, unable to finish. Once she heard about the attack that had almost killed Embereyes, she had hurried to aid ThunderClan. Voletail had been discovered as the one that had tried to kill her, as he had been under orders to do so by Tiger-roar and Nightshade. But when the attack backfired, Stagtail took care of that with a quick snap to his neck. Afterwards, he returned to ThunderClan and demanded her place back in the clan, and Bluestar gave it to her willingly. Icefire could still recall the callous look in her eyes as she gave Stagtail the same suffix as Voletail but it was also Rosetail's suffix so Stagtail wasn't bothered.

Before Icefire could reply, Darkstripe interrupted. "You haven't been back for a moon! What makes you think you should get to lead our patrols?" The tabby's belly was getting rounder and rounder by the day. Darkstripe admitted that these kits weren't Tiger-roar's, but he still refused to reveal who the actual sire was, leading Icefire to be more suspicious of the dark tom. "Why don't you let the bigger warriors do the leading?"

Stagtail curled his lip in a snarl and looked as if he wanted to claw his ears off. Icefire rose to his paws, using his tail to prevent her from leaping at him. This was no time for any infighting, not while the threat of Tiger-roar and Nightshade remained as they lurked near ThunderClan's forest.

"Enough of this!" Icefire snapped. "Stagtail, you can take a patrol of five cats, and Darkstripe, either join a patrol or shut up."

Darkstripe glared daggers at him for a few moments before he scoffed and turned away. Icefire couldn't help the foreboding chill that crept up his spine as he watched the dark tom go. His loyalty to Tiger-roar and Nightshade was not easily forgettable, and him hiding the sire of his own kits raised many questions to be asked. All of the secrecy left Icefire with a feeling that Darkstripe could not be trusted, and he figured it wise to keep a close eye on Darkstripe before even more cats could get hurt...

#warriors #warrior cats #warriors au #trail of flames au #warrior cats rewrite #warrior cats au #warriors rewrite #fireheart #redtail #raveneye #ravenpaw #goldenflower #whitestorm #darkstripe #arc1 #book 3 #chapter 1 #albino firestar #icefire #leoapardstorm #stagtail #sunnypaw

[meitonapalace]

Father's Day book 2 preview

A/N:

Decided to celebrate Father’s Day with a little father-son moment from the upcoming book 2 :)

Warnings: contains spoilers & violence.

 xxx

 It was true… blood spilt faster, from those who were afraid. Many times had Mokoto looked into the eyes of a traitor; many times had he delivered their punishment himself. He always enjoyed it, and he always felt empowered by it. He relished in the knowledge that he was ridding the world of someone who did not belong here. He relished in the sight of their blood, the smell of their fear, the sound of their jagged breaths… … Usually. Not now, though. Now… he just felt angry. Angry that it wasn’t just the humans that were killing his people. It wasn’t humans down here, in his prison under Meitona Palace. This place was for those traitors who were too wrong to be allowed in the world. Even now, when the world was at war, struggling to survive, these people were too treacherous to fight for the Gaiamira. Mokoto could not allow them to fight for the New World. They would poison it. So he tortured them, and he killed them… for crimes so awful they were no longer permitted to live. Treason, of the most horrific form. Murderers, and predators… helpers of the humans. They were helping the humans win this war… and that was unforgivable.

“Please…” A wounded man whispered before him. His face was coated in his own blood. His chest was bare, his body ripped open. His wounds ran so deep there would soon be no blood left to spill. Mokoto could see the veins pulsing within him; some parts of him didn’t even have skin anymore. Mokoto would skin him alive; and open his stomach and tear him apart from the inside. It was all he deserved. It was better than he deserved. “I… I never… did this.” The man spoke. “I… shot mine. They didn’t suffer. Please…”

“They knew they were dying.” Mokoto uttered. “You don’t think that was suffering enough? I promise you, they thought of their children.” He flinched in disgust, thinking about what this man had done. He was a serial killer, who targeted pregnant women. At first, just pregnant Hiveakan women, but then he moved onto Outsiders as well. Mokoto had asked him why, and he had explained it was because the Outsiders were beginning to put their children in the Hives – much more than before. Because the Hives were better protected, and safer. This man was an Outsider extremist; he didn’t want Hiveakans to be in the world… so he killed them before they were born. Quickly, he said. Without suffering, he said… but what mother would not suffer, knowing she was dying and her child along with her? Knowing she had failed to protect them, when it was her duty… to fail was to suffer. Mokoto didn’t care for it to happen in his world. Those who deserved to suffer were the likes of this traitor. And Mokoto was here to ensure that he would.

           He listened to the man scream, as he dove his claws into his chest. His skin ripped under Mokoto’s fingers, his muscles shredded apart like paper. There was no depth to this man; he had a small build. Thin, useless muscles, and softened skin. Not as soft as human skin. Even Outsiders had thicker skin than humans; even this man’s flesh was harder to break than a human’s… but it broke all the same, under Mokoto’s Footprints. It made a noise as it ripped; his blood squelched and splashed, as Mokoto released it from its veins. He drenched his hand in the man’s blood, watching as the warm, purple liquid ran down his arm. It ran quickly, because the man was afraid. His breaths were fast, and short. He couldn’t fight. He was tied up, helpless. Like a child in the womb, completely reliant on somebody else to save him. Nobody would save him. Nobody would want to. Mokoto couldn’t even feel the Goddess of Death here. She didn’t want this soul.

           The man’s eyes were wide; his body was shaking. He stared up at Mokoto in desperation… but he’d stopped pleading. Finally. He’d realised he deserved no mercy. Or at least, he’d realised he wouldn’t get it. “A Hiveakan died today, protecting a school of Outsiders.” Mokoto spoke, with venom in his voice. He couldn’t help but think of Aourat, and what would have happened to him, had this man been around when he was in his mother’s womb. The lives that would have been lost… “Would you have killed him? And with him, the children that he saved. I have enough humans trying to kill my people. I don’t need you as well. You can understand that, can’t you? You understand… how I am struggling to see the difference between you and them?”

“S-Sire –”

“If you wish to act like a human, you will be treated like one. They are shown no mercy, just as you showed your victims no mercy. Or the Gaiamira, when you denied them the chance to welcome a life into the world. What you did was not just a crime against me, it was a crime against them. Only Lanka may decide when a soul is taken…” Mokoto smirked, as cruelly as any mortal could. He took great pleasure in speaking the words. He took great pleasure, in telling this… mistake of the world, “I do not feel her here. She does not want your soul.”

           He saw tears, in the man’s eyes. The words hurt him, and broke him… but of course, he was reluctant to believe them. So he shut his eyes, and spoke through his jagged breaths.

“She… she is here. She will… come, for me. I… killed them, in a peaceful way. They… had to be killed.”

“No, she’s not.” Mokoto said. “She appears to me all the time, but she isn’t here now. She has abandoned you, because you betrayed her. And she will show you no mercy. And nor will the God of war. They will take you to the Dark Realm, and there you will rot.”

“No…”

           Mokoto moved his eyes, to the boy at his side. Tomakoto. He was worn, from a training session with Mokoto and Lanka. But training hadn’t quenched Mokoto’s thirst. He needed blood. He needed to feel it upon his skin, he needed to watch the life leave a traitor’s eyes… His Footprints craved it. So he’d come here, and he’d brought Tomakoto with him. Because Tomakoto needed to see this. He needed to know how a king should deal with those who betrayed him. He had graduated at the age of nine, but he hadn’t yet taken a life. Now… was the time to change that. “Go on.” Mokoto spoke, gesturing towards the captive man. “Kill him.”

“Sire?” Tomakoto looked at his father. He seemed stunned, and confused. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Mokoto to let him do it. He thought he was just here to watch, and he’d watched intently. Without flinching, without startle… He’d seemed to enjoy watching. The sight of a traitor being slain seemed to please him. He hadn’t expected to be more than a spectator, though. But… it was time. Tomakoto understood that. He believed it, because he believed in his father’s judgement. King Mokoto wouldn’t have ordered it if it wasn’t right, and Tomakoto knew it would be a betrayal to refuse. So… He had to. Tomakoto held Mokoto’s gaze, and Mokoto stared him down, not speaking a word… Then obediently, Tomakoto nodded his head. “Yes, Sire.”

           Mokoto watched as the boy approached the man. Tomakoto looked at him for a moment first, weighing up his victim. He had Footprints in his soul, but he’d never had to use them. Not as much as they could be used. They were still small, and unsure… but they were just as strong as any Hiveakan’s. Just as strong as Mokoto’s, if Tomakoto allowed them to be. Mokoto could feel them within him, he could feel them rising to the surface of Tomakoto’s soul… Then he saw them come out.

           Tomakoto dove his claws into the wound on the man’s abdomen, and he yanked his hands down. The blood flew out as Tomakoto pulled open the man’s stomach, leaving his organs exposed to the world. Mokoto thought that perhaps Tomakoto would just let him bleed to death; the screams and the smell of fear in the air were surely enough to satisfy the fresh, unused Footprints of a young boy. But… they weren’t. Evidently, they weren’t. Because Tomakoto didn’t stop there. He grabbed the man’s intestines, and he squeezed them in his hands. He didn’t pull them or rip them; he didn’t do anything that would put a quick end to the man’s life. He just squeezed them, and he stared at the man’s twisting face as he became silenced in pain. He put his hand inside the man’s bleeding body, and he pulled out his heart. He held the organs up to him, to show him. The man wasn’t looking, though. His eyes were shut in pain, his breaths small and weak as the life drained from him. He had only seconds left. Only seconds left to see.

“Open your eyes.” Tomakoto ordered. The man didn’t… and it seemed to anger Tomakoto. Because he squeezed his heart, and he said it again, with much more ferocity than before. “Open them!” Tomakoto barked. “Now!”

           The man did… Mokoto wasn’t sure why. He must have known he would only see something terrible; something that would traumatise him in his last seconds of life. So Mokoto couldn’t think why the man would open his eyes… unless the strength of Tomakoto’s Footprints had made him. Perhaps the man’s fear of disobeying them was greater than his fear of seeing… and what a beautiful thing that was. For the child to have such power, with such young, small Footprints… It left Mokoto speechless, in amazement, and in wonder… and it filled him with pride.

           He watched as tears spilt from the man’s eyes. He spent his last few breaths staring in horror at his own organs before him; his own bloodied intestines, his own beating heart… and then he died. In a terrible, terrible way. A way he deserved. A way… even worse than what Mokoto had planned. Mokoto wouldn’t have shown him the organs; he would have just torn them apart and watched the man bleed and listened to him scream. He would have been feral, and thirsty, and excited. Tomakoto, though… he’d had more control than that. He’d been more patient than that. He’d denied himself the tearing of tissue and the spilling of blood; he’d set aside his own desire to cause pain and a sudden death… to satisfy a much deeper, much darker desire. The desire to traumatise, and horrify. To send a traitor to the Dark Realm in eternal restlessness, eternal fear, eternal horror. Tomakoto hadn’t just wanted to hurt; he’d wanted to scar. And that was… incredible. How had the child become like this…? He truly was blessed by the God of War. He was a gift from the Gaiamira, the greatest gift they could ever give. And they had given him to Lakuna and Mokoto… he felt so honoured by that.

           Tomakoto looked at Mokoto, after it was over. After the man had stopped breathing, and the frantic heart in Tomakoto’s palm had stopped beating. He looked at Mokoto in wonder, and with nerves upon his face. No callousness, no coldness, no ferocity… just timid wonder. He was wondering if he had performed well enough. Wondering if he was good enough. He lived his life seeking his father’s approval… just as Mokoto had with his own. Despite what horrific things Tomakoto did… he was still just a child, at the mercy of someone who would always be stronger.

“Was that okay, Sire…?” Tomakoto asked, humbly and timidly. As if he hadn’t just gutted a man with his own claws.

“Yes.” Mokoto grinned. He laughed, charmed by the look on Tomakoto’s face. He was still so young… and yet he was a monster. A wonderful, young monster. “Very good, Toma.” Mokoto approached his son, and put a proud hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “You can do that again, with the next one.”

“I hope there won’t be a next one.” Tomakoto frowned. “I don’t want people like that in the world.”

“Nor do I.” Mokoto smirked. “In the New World, there won’t be. You can help me with that.”

“Yes, Sire.”

           They left the man’s corpse there, for Mokoto’s staff to deal with. Mokoto was done with him now. They left the prison, and headed through the basement to go back upstairs… when Mokoto heard something. A voice, elsewhere in the basement. It was coming from the prayer room.

#regal #god of war #victoria bates #scenes #preview #invincible #mokoto #tomakoto #Father's Day #violence #death #murder

[swanqueeneverafter]

What Dreams May Come, Pt.12

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Guest Room. (Robin Hood is pacing back and forth when Regina enters the room.) Regina: "You're lucky I was already planning on doing laundry when I bumped into you." Robin Hood: "Lucky? You prevented me from killing Nottingham." Regina: "I stopped you doing something you'd regret." Robin Hood: "Who says I'd regret it?" Regina: (Sighs:) "Well, trust me, someday you would. (When Robin flexes his hand, she notices the injury:) Here, let me see your hand." Robin Hood: "No, it's fine." Regina: "Okay then. Anyway I, brought you your clothes, blood free." Robin Hood: (Nods:) "Thank you." (Regina places the clothes on a chair, turns and leaves the room.) Dining Room. (Snow White and Regina discuss Robin's sudden reappearance in Storybrooke.) Snow White: "Regina, what were you thinking? How could you bring him here?" Regina: "It was either this or let him murder a man in the middle of Main Street." Snow White: "But you don't know who he is. Looking like Robin Hood doesn't make him the same person. Trust me, I once kissed David's twin. World of difference." Regina: "We've barely even talked." Snow White: "Well, there's some things you should probably tell him. Like, for example he has a daughter." Regina: "She's not his daughter." Snow White: "Exactly my point! They're different people." Regina: "I know the man in there isn't our Robin Hood. Our Robin is dead. Which is exactly why I told Alice to find my niece and keep her busy until we find out who or what this person is." Snow White: "It sounds as though you have some theories?" Regina: "My initial thought was that maybe this could've been our Robin. When Henry brought him back temporarily to speak with his daughter and take the Author's pen, maybe he somehow stayed in our world." Snow White: "But now?" Regina: (Shaking her head:) "This Robin doesn't know anything about us or Storybrooke. It's like he's straight out of..." Snow White: "Regina?" Regina: (Realising something:) "I have to call Emma. The search for Greg Mendell will have to wait, this is more important right now." Henry's Dreamscape. Kingdom of Valencia. Madelena's Chambers. (Henry and Madelena sit across from each other, beside a roaring fire.) Queen Madelena: "As I was saying, I have a plan that will allow me to remain as queen, and you will be well taken care of as my... Special companion." Henry: "Your boy toy, you mean. Is that how you see me? Hmm? As some well-groomed, ruggedly handsome, yet oddly delicate-featured plaything?" Queen Madelena: "Yeah. But, if you're the sort of man who needs romancing, I can certainly do that." Henry: (As music starts to play:) "Oh, no." Queen Madelena: ♪ I want you, I need you ♪ ♪ You cut me, and I bleed you ♪ ♪ You're like some kind of sonnet ♪ ♪ All I want to do is read you ♪ ♪ And (Hesitating:) I love you ♪ Henry: (Unimpressed:) “Uh huh.” (Madelena stands and crosses over to Henry.) Queen Madelena: ♪ I mean I (Almost gagging on the word:) love you ♪ Henry: “Yes. Thanks.” Queen Madelena: (Putting her hands on his shoulders:)  ♪ I said I love you ♪ Henry: “Yes, and you’re clearly sincere about it.” Queen Madelena: (Pulling him up out of his chair:) ♪ Dance with me ♪ (In hold, moves them to stand in front of a mirror:) ♪ Can't you see how freaking gorgeous we look? ♪ (Leading him across the floor, dancing:) ♪ Can't you feel the frantic beat of our hearts ♪ ♪ As our various parts rub with such delicious friction? ♪ ♪ Dance with me ♪ ♪ Why not finish what's already begun? ♪ Henry: ♪ So, what you're saying is you love me ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ I love you ♪ Henry: ♪ Really love me ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ I love you ♪ ♪ As much as someone like me can love anyone ♪ (Henry holds on to Madelena as she goes into a deep dip.) Queen Madelena: (Upside down:) “Does that clear things up for you?” Henry: (Letting go of her hands as she drops to the floor:) “Yeah, got it. Thanks.”

Castle Courtyard. Gallows. (Three men stand at the gallows ready to be executed. One of them, The Chef, with noose still around his neck has just finished telling the King of Madelena's betrayal.) King Richard: "Are you hearing this, Gareth? My own wife tries to trick me into killing my favorite chef so she can save the hero. (To Chef:) You sure it was her? Pretty girl, tiny waist, big eyes?” Chef: “Definitely, My King.” King Richard: (Scoffs:) “No one has it as bad as I do, Gareth. No one!” (The King slams his hand down in frustration, triggering a lever that executes Prisoner 1.) Prisoner 1: “Aaaaaaaah!” Gareth: "Uh... Don't worry." King Richard: "Why do I continually allow people to treat me this way? Oh, come on. Forget I'm your king and talk to me like your friend." Gareth: "All right. You keep acting like a prat. You need to be more of a geezer. You know, I've tried to tell you time and time again. You don't turn your ear." King Richard: "Oh, Gareth. I can't understand a word you say. Let me ask you this, then. (Thoughtlessly tapping the second lever:) Do you like me, Gareth? I mean, you know, as a... as a person?" (The King turns back to face Gareth to gauge his reaction, leaning on the second lever as he does, executing Prisoner 2.) Prisoner 2: "Aaaaaaah!" (Before Gareth can answer, a Page whispers something in his ear.) Gareth: "I gotta go. My queen needs me." King Richard: "Your queen? Mm. (Turns to the Chef:) Are you hearing this? Now it's his queen. Fine. Go ahead. Leave me, too. Be that guy. Go. Go." Gareth: "Yeah, okay." (Leaves.) King Richard: "Why am I like this? Why do I continually allow people to treat me this way?" Chef: (Just before the King can hit the third lever:) "Sire!" King Richard: "Hmm?" Chef: "I-I think I know something that may help you." King Richard: "Really? What?" Chef: "A-a nice full stomach. It always makes things better." King Richard: "Oh, Chef. What would I do without you?" (The King leaves the gallows and, sighing with relief, the Chef removes the noose and follows quickly after him.) Storybrooke. The Charmings' House. (David and Hook stand in front of David's investigation board.) David: "I'm glad you're here. I need your help. Tell me if you see anything, any connections, patterns." Hook: "All this because of a blasted coin?" David: "Look, I tried to fight it, but something... something happened. I saw my father's ghost." Hook: (Skeptically:) "You entirely sure about that?" David: "Yes, I'm sure. And don't tell me I need more sleep. I've had plenty, and I still saw him right outside, staring at me. I'd given up on him, Hook. What kind of son does that?" Hook: "A son with a family of his own." David: "I can't abandon one family for another. My father was a weak man, but he's still my father and he deserves justice. Now will you help me?" Hook: "Perhaps Emma would be better-suited to help. She's sheriff, after all, and Savior, and she has, you know, magic." David: "No, no, don't call Emma. I don't want to worry her or Snow. What I might have to do, they wouldn't approve of." Hook: "But you think I would?" David: "You're a pirate, and a pirate's what I need. Come on. You gave me an idea."

Swan-Mills House. (Robin Hood is looking through the Storybook.) Robin Hood: "So, everybody in this book lives here, in Storybrooke?" Regina: (Nods:) "Most of them. What we'd like to know is... how far along you are." Robin Hood: "Excuse me?" Regina: "Before you came here, what's the last thing you remember? What was your life like, were you married?" Robin Hood: (Scoffs:) "Married? No, I don't think so." Emma: (Sitting forward in her chair:) "Okay, well that at least gives us some sort of timeline." Robin Hood: (Confused:) "A timeline?" Regina: (Gently takes the Storybook from him:) "Sorry, it's not a good idea to know too much about your future." Robin Hood: "I see." Emma: (To Robin:) "Could you excuse us a moment? (Emma, Regina and Zelena all get up and move to another room:) So, we know that this Robin isn't from our dreamscape, the timeline doesn't fit." Zelena: "I'm sorry, you two were having a shared dream about Robin Hood?" Emma: "No... well not exactly. We were... It was..." Regina: (Firmly:) "Private." Zelena: "I see. So you two had a dreamscape sexcapade and somehow Robin Hood turns up in Storybrooke?" Emma: "Look, we already told you it can't have been that. In our dream Robin was already married to Marian." Regina: "If indeed that was Marian. Let's not rule out the possibility that it could've been you, Zelena." Zelena: (Scoffs:) "I think I would've remembered being part of one of your trysts, thanks." Regina: "Well what was your dreamscape about? What did you do there?" Zelena: (Hesitates:) "Mine? It was... mine was... Nevermind! I went into my dreamscape alone, it's you two that must've caused all this." Emma: "Sure, blame us, why not." Zelena: "Well no one else has a history of merging realms do they? I think, you two had some earth shattering sex, somehow that sent the dream world haywire and Robin is the result. And now he's stuck here walking the streets of Storybrooke." (Emma and Regina look to each other, considering this chain of events.) Regina: "If that really is the case, then the solution should be straight forward. We take Robin to Xanax's laboratory, he goes through the door and back into the dream world where he belongs." Emma: "Do you think it'll be that simple?" Regina: (Shrugs:) "Is anything ever that simple?" Zelena: "Yeah, well you better hope it works before his daughter bumps into him in the street and decides she wants him to stay." Regina: "He's not-" Robin Hood: (Entering the room:) "Excuse me? (All three women turn to look at him:) Did you say I have a daughter?" Storybrooke. Main Street. (In an attempt to keep Robin busy, Alice has asked her out on a 'day date'.) Robin: "So, remind me never to play 'Clue' with you." Alice: "Why's that?" Robin: "Well, apparently, it was Ms. Scarlett, in the shipping container, with a gun.” (They walk over to a vendor and Robin asks for two candy apples.) Alice: (Groans:) “I still can't believe it happened. Luckily, Rumple's alright and Belle's being really cool about it. She said she told Rumple to get rid of that gun several times. She’s more angry at him, than me.” Robin: (Offering an apple to Alice:) "Here, try this." (They continue walking as Alice tries the apple.) Alice: (Taking a bite:) "This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten. I had no idea you could candy on fruit." Robin: "You can put candy on anything if you try hard enough. It's a worthy goal." Alice: "So, what's next?" Robin: "Actually, that's up to you. It's your turn, show me something you like." Alice: "I know just the place." (Alice offers her arm and Robin takes it.)

Henry's Dreamscape. Kingdom of Valencia. (Queen Madelena leads Henry down the steps towards the dungeons.) Henry: "Um, why are we back in the dungeon?" Queen Madelena: "Just wait here. I'll come get you when it's time. Someone's coming to help execute my plan." Guard: (Pushing Henry inside:) "Move along." Dungeons. (Ella sees Henry and runs to him.) Ella: "Henry! I thought you were dead." Henry: "No but, given my choices, I haven't ruled that option out." Ella: "Queen Madelena, you have me, you have the jewel. Now you must release my people." Queen Madelena: "Must I?" Ella: "Yes. You have to." Queen Madelena: "Have I?" Ella: "Yes." Queen Madelena: "Really?" Ella: "Why are you just repeating everything I say as a question?" Queen Madelena: "Am I just repeating everything you say as a question?" Ella: "You... Don't hear it?" (Several prisoners mutter their agreement with Ella.) Henry: "You're sort of doing it a little bit." Ella: "I must speak with King Richard." Queen Madelena: "My dear girl... I am not King Richard, but I will enjoy killing you just the same. (Suddenly, Madelena grabs Henry and gives him a prolonged kiss, shoving him away when Gareth enters the dungeons:) Ah, Gareth. (Points to Ella:) Cut her face. Torture the rest." Gareth: (As Henry and Ella are taken back to their cells:) "Excuse me?" Queen Madelena: "I said torture them. Is there a problem?" Gareth: "No. There's not a problem. I like torturing. I'm pretty good at it. I once kept a guy alive for a week, and he was just a head and a finger. But that order came from the king, and I serve My King.” Queen Madelena: “Your king is weak, Gareth. You know this. He cries like a baby, he cares like a woman. He makes decoupage footstools as a hobby.” Gareth: “Hey! That was a birthday present. He got me that so I could have a sit down.” Queen Madelena: “You're a dog, Gareth. And a dog needs a strong master. Now sic 'em.” Storybrooke. Regina's Vault. (Zelena has brought Robin Hood to her sister's vault to clear the air.) Zelena: "Right, now that we're in a safe, secure location, we need to talk." Robin Hood: "I'm listening." Zelena: (Sighs:) "The other Robin, the one we knew here in Storybrooke, he had a child. Well, two, actually, but only one is here. A daughter. But, I mean, she's not yours. Not really." Robin Hood: "Does the mother know that? Who even is the mother?" Zelena: "I am. Our relationship, me and the other Robin that is, was complicated." Robin Hood: "Apparently, everything here is complicated." Zelena: (Smiles:) "I'll give you that. (Curiously:) Were you really going to kill Nottingham?" Robin Hood: (Scoffs:) "You're not seriously going to judge me for that are you? I mean bloody hell, look around. I know dark magic when I see it. I mean, wh-what's in these?" Zelena: (Glances at the boxes:) "Uh, the hearts of my sister’s enemies, I believe." Robin Hood: "Oh. And this? This looks nasty enough." Zelena: "Oh, no, don't touch that! It's powerful." (Picks up a silver box and moves it out of reach.) Robin Hood: "Just who are you people? What aren't you telling me." Zelena: (Sighs again:) "My sister is the Evil Queen and I'm the Wicked Witch. Okay? Happy now? My history with you... with Robin Hood, it ended badly." Robin Hood: "Yeah, and judging by some of the stuff here, I can guess how, too." Zelena: "Look, we've changed. I don't know for sure what brought you here but since you are, you could be a part of a fresh start. Your fresh start." Robin Hood: (Considers her:) "And maybe one of your own, too?" Zelena: "Maybe. (Chuckles:) I don't know. When I first heard you were here I just wanted you gone as soon as possible." Robin Hood: "But now?" Zelena: "I think if we give ourselves a chance, maybe your being here could be a good thing." Robin Hood: (Sighs:) “Truth be told, compared to your version, there doesn’t seem like I have a lot to be getting back to. So, if you’re sure, I don’t necessarily see the harm in sticking around for awhile.” Zelena: “Hm, I still don’t want my daughter seeing you just yet, so you’ll have to keep out of sight for the time being.” Robin Hood: “Not a problem, in theory.” Zelena: “In theory?” Robin Hood: “Well, a man like me, a man of action, I will need to be kept entertained. Otherwise I could just get bored, wander off and turn up anywhere.” Zelena: “I see. And how do you suppose a man, such as yourself, would prefer his entertainment?” Robin Hood: “I guess that would depend on how much of a ‘fresh start’ you would like to have with the legendary Robin Hood.” (Shaking her head at the man’s bravado, Zelena considers his words, before making her decision.)

Swan-Mills House. (Emma and Regina discuss their options.) Regina: "I think you're overreacting." Emma: "He is literally a walking, talking reminder of our dreamscape, Regina." Regina: "We don't even know that's where he came from." Emma: "Consider the facts: Robin Hood is dead, buried, gone. Even if he were Robin's ghost, he'd know who we all are. Face it, we did this, we brought him here." Regina: "Then what about the timelines? If this Robin came from our shared dream, he would've been married to Marian, he would at least know who she was." Emma: "Okay, well if he isn't from our dreamscape, where did he come from?" Regina: "I don't know! There could be dozens of possible answers. He could be from a Wish Realm or he could've time travelled." Emma: (Skeptically:) "Seriously?" Regina: "Oh, cause that's so hard to believe, Princess Leia." Emma: "All right, fine. I just think until we know who or what he is, we need to cool it on the shared dreaming." Regina: "No." Emma: "Gina-" Regina: "No way. You know how much better I've been sleeping recently." Emma: "Yes, but-" Regina: "And how much closer we've become." Emma: "I know, but-" Regina: (Moving closer to her on the couch:) "Not to mention all the things we've yet to do... (Running her fingers teasingly over Emma's thigh:) that we could never possibly get away with in the real world." Emma: (Closing her eyes as many different scenarios suddenly flash before her eyes. Huskily:) "Regina..." Regina: (Moving even closer, nuzzling Emma's ear:) "I just think it'd be such a shame to never... ever... experience those possibilities that have been... (Nudging Emma's knees apart:) Opened to us." Emma: (Sighs, tilting her head back to allow Regina access:) "You don't play fair." Regina: (Smiling against her neck:) "No, I play to win." Swan-Mills House. Exterior. (Pulling up with Hook in his truck, David heads towards the garden.) Hook: "Why are we here?" David: "Like you said, Emma has magic, we don't." Hook: "Hang on. What is this?" David: "Emma and Regina are busy doing other things, right? So we borrow a few ingredients and a spell book, and we learn what happened to my father." Hook: (Pulling him back:) "Wait. Stop. Are you trying to cast a spell?" David: "Look, if you're too afraid, forget about it. I'll do it myself." Hook: "I'm not afraid. I'm concerned. You really have no qualms about stealing from your own daughter?" David: "What is with you today? You spend your whole life a thieving pirate, and the one time I need you to be that guy, you get cold feet." (David and Hook sneak into the back garden.) Hook: "Perhaps I'm trying not to be that guy anymore." David: "Come on, buddy. It's just me here. Now, I need you to pick the lock to the shed and then be a lookout. What do you say? (Reluctantly, Hook walks over to Regina's shed and, after a few moments, successfully manages to pick the lock:) There. That wasn't so hard. Now you keep watch." (Irritated beyond words by David's less than charming attitude, Hook nevertheless sneaks over to one of the back windows to check if anyone is at home. Peering in, Hook catches a glimpse of something sink behind the couch. Seeing no further movement, he dismisses it as nothing and returns to the shed. Unbeknownst to Hook, hidden by the back of the couch, Regina and Emma are busy making out, with Emma now wholeheartedly seeing Regina's point of view.) David: (Meeting Hook on the way out of the shed:) "Anyone home?" Hook: "No." David: "Right. Good work. Now let's find out who murdered my father."

Henry's Dreamscape. Kingdom of Valencia. Dungeons. (Gareth stands sharpening his tools of torture while Henry and Ella talk through the bars of their adjoining cells.) Ella: "All right, we need an escape plan. What are you thinking?" Henry: "Here's what I think: If you really break it down... 'I love you as much as someone like me could love anyone' can mean a lot of things." Ella: "Oh, come on. She's the worst! She imprisoned us. I mean, yes, she's beautiful, in a perfect-skin, perfect-body, perfect-hair kind of way, if you're into that sort of thing." Henry: "Mm." Ella: "I know you, Henry. I know your heart, and you deserve better. You deserve to be with someone who will lift you up as a man, someone who will fight with you, not against you." Henry: "So what you're saying is... you don't think she loves me?" (The other occupants of the dungeon all groan.) Jester: "Bloody hell. Oh, please, just stop the torture and kill me already." Gareth: "I haven't started yet." Jester: "He's not part of it?" Gareth: "Will everybody just shut up?! (Pointing one of his weapons at the Jester:) Do you want to know what real torture is?” Jester: “No, I'm good. Thanks.” Gareth: (Sighs, drops the mace and takes a seat on the stool:) “Imagine being loyal to someone your whole life. I'm not gonna tell you who, but hypothetically, we'll call him ‘the king.’ He's a bit of a ponce, but I like him. Then he gets married to this rump-fed basket cockle, who, hypothetically, we'll call ‘the queen.’” Henry: “We all know who you're talking about, Gareth.” Gareth: “Yeah but let me be cryptic for a minute, will ya?! Just give me that! Now, she's not like ‘the king.’ But she's strong, and I admire strength. But, then again, I've sworn an oath to protect the king. So I don't know what to do. I mean, that's real torture, isn't it, lads?” (Frustrated, Gareth gets to his feet and leaves the dungeons. Henry and Ella return their attention to each other.) Ella: "Seriously, Henry, you can't really be thinking about being with Madelena. When you love someone, you shout it from the rooftop, not couch it in a riddle." Henry: "I know." Ella: "You do?" Henry: "Of course I do. I come from a family of True Love. My parents, my grandparents. I just wanted you to think I was considering her offer to see how you'd react." Ella: "So you were testing me?" Henry: "I wanted to know if my feelings for you were in any small way reciprocated. (Pushing open his cell door:) It was cruel I know, but at least now I can see you do feel something for me." Ella: "Of course I do, you dope. (Pushing open her cell door:) Henry, you're not like any man I've ever met before." Henry: "And you inspire me to do things I never thought I could. Well, actually you more or less boss me into doing those things, but still." (They share a good natured laugh.) Ella: "Well, how's that for timing? Our stars are finally aligning on the same day I'm going to die." Henry: "No. No, you're not gonna die today. (Points at the occupants of the other cells:) And you're not gonna die today. And you're not gonna die today. (Gestures to a cell with a prisoner inside who hasn't moved since they've been in the dungeons:) You might already be dead." Ella: "Well, what are you going to do?" Henry: "What else? Save the day. (Henry goes to leave the dungeons when he turns back:) Have these doors been open the whole time? No one thought to check? (The Jester tests his cell door, which also opens:) Really?" Throne Room. (Madelena paces the floor when Gareth enters.) Queen Madelena: "Is it done? Did you torture them?” Gareth: “Nah.” Queen Madelena: “But I gave you an order.” Gareth: “I don't give a rat's arse about your orders. I might be a dog, but at least I'm a loyal one, love. Now, I serve the king, so I only follow his orders.” King Richard: (Standing in the doorway with Chef:) “That is so nice to hear. (Walks towards them:) You have always been my most loyal friend, Gareth. I know you're not a hugger, but if you were, I would wrap myself around you like a leather jacket made of love.” Gareth: (Clearly uncomfortable:) “Mm.” King Richard: “Okay, couple of things. First, Chef, I am so munchy. Could you make me, like, a cheesy omelette with some ham chunks, potatoes fried in bacon grease?” Chef: “Right away, sire.” (He leaves.) King Richard: “Excellent. (To Madelena:) Next, I'm breaking up with you. Gareth, would you please escort Madelena down to the dungeon and lock her up forever? Huh?” Gareth: (Nods his approval to the king, then grabs Madelena’s arm:) “Come on.” Queen Madelena: “Wait! It would be rude to imprison your queen when we have such a special visitor.” King Richard: “What visitor? What are you talking about?” Kingsley: (Sitting on the throne:) “Hello, brother.” King Richard: “Kingsley?” Gareth: “What's he doing here?” King Richard: “What are you doing here?” Kingsley: “I'm here to take your life.” King Richard: “My life?” Kingsley: (Stepping down from the dais:) “Your lifestyle. Your kingdom. Of course, if you get in my way, I'll have to take your life, too... Dickie.” Queen Madelena: (Laughing:) “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

[albionmyway]

love is patient (while albion unites) ch 2

The Knowing

*tumblr note: I do a better job updating this on emryses!! to see the prologue, everything is under the tag #merthurbyuserana, and there is an easily found tab on my tumblr page dedicated to this fic. message me if you want to be tagged in future posts.

x

Merlin awoke the next day, and he was face to face with an enraged prince. "And just what are you doing on my bedroom floor?"

He realized with a sudden jolt that he'd fallen asleep in Arthur's chambers; and he wondered with a panic whether and not the potion was actually administered. Clearly not at the moment. But would it be?

"I was…" he hesitated, trying to think of a good excuse. "...Cleaning."

"Cleaning?" repeated Arthur. His face read pure skepticism. Probably because the room was a mess from when Trickler came in, but he decided to ignore that.

He nodded, before adding, "It was even messier before I started cleaning."

Arthur tossed him his armor, boots, and laundry. "Clean these, and get out of my sight," he hissed his eyes flashing with anger.

"Of course, sire," said Merlin quickly, leaving the room. Well, he thought as he walked over to Gaius' chambers, clearly the potion didn't work.

He entered the room, to immediately be faced with Gaius, who looked slightly annoyed. "Where have you been all night?"

"Trying to stop Alined's jester from giving Arthur that love potion," he said, "But I somehow...fell asleep?" he was utterly disgusted with himself for doing so.

Gaius raised an eyebrow at that statement, clearly looking skeptical.

"All I know is that I highly doubt that it's been given to Arthur. He's his normal annoying self," said Merlin, rolling his eyes, but the hint of relief in his voice was heard clearly.

Gaius nodded, and his face relaxed considerably. "Well, that's great to hear!" The two then went to do their normal activities, hoping that the whole incident was over for now.

(But unfortunately, the world didn't work that way.)

x

As Merlin was doing his normal chores, he overheard two hushed voices. Those of Alined and Trickler.

"I've given the potion to the Prince, my lord," said Tricker, unable to hide his delight. "Does that mean that I shall be rewarded?"

Alined grunted. "Well, did it have its effects yet?"

"I don't know," said Trickler honestly. "But I suppose we'll find out today!"

"I suppose we shall," said Alined, his voice cold as steel. There was no pride in his eyes for the jester yet. "You will only be rewarded if this potion works. Fail, and you shall be punished."

Merlin's eyes widened. They had given Arthur the potion? 'They must have done it wrong,' he thought, barely being able to hide the obvious grin that was forming on his face. Having this knowledge, he was able to continue through the rest of the day in ease.

He didn't even have to worry about them attempting to give love potion to Arthur again. Hopefully.

x

Humming, he entered Gaius' chambers once more, and Gaius was wondering just why he was so happy.

"They thought that Arthur was given the potion, but he wasn't. They failed."

"Deorham's jester is known for being a skilled sorcerer when it comes to potion making," Gaius informed Merlin, frowning. "I'm surprised he failed."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Is there any other explanation?"

Gaius mused. "No," he finally said. "Not really. There's only one other explanation as to why a love potion would not work, besides whoever making it failing."

"What is it?" asked Merlin, curiously.

"The person that is given the potion is already in love with the person that they are meant to fall in love with," said Gaius bluntly.

The two looked at each other for a couple moments, imagining the thought. There were multiple things that would be wrong about that being the case, such as a) homosexuality wasn't even allowed in Camelot, and b) ...the thought of Arthur actually being in love with him...yeah, definitely not. The two started laughing, though it was very uneasy, especially on Merlin's part.

"Yeah, uh. We should probably go with the realistic theory: Trickler definitely failed," said Merlin, and Gaius nodded.

x

After a banquet with the five kings, Arthur was heading to bed for the night, with Merlin in tow. They could hear hushed noises from the chambers of King Alined, and Merlin stopped suddenly to overhear.

"You have failed," Alined hissed. "The potion did not work. Everything was normal at the banquet today."

"Merlin!" hissed Arthur in annoyance. "What exactly are you doing?" But Merlin, too engrossed in what Alined and Trickler were saying, paid him no attention.

Annoyed, he made his way over to his manservant, about to drag him away, but the conversation between Deorham's King and his jester peaked his attention.

"I - I checked every single ingredient….I did everything to ensure that the potion would work," pleaded Trickler.

"You incompetent fool!" Alined thundered, his eyes darkening. "You must've messed something up, because the Prince is certainly not showing any affections for his manservant!"

"Give me another chance, Master!" Tricker begged.

From the room, Arthur and Merlin could hear a loud bang. "I am done giving you more chances," hissed Alined. "I'm going to handle this in my own way, and you can expect punishments, boy." Then, the chambers of the Deorham King became eerily silent.

"He tried to give me a love potion…" Arthur hissed in anger, "...To make me fall in love with you."

"Clearly, he failed," pointed out Merlin, trying not to smile. "You certainly don't look the part."

Arthur's face flickered a moment, before it turned sour again. "In your dreams, Merlin," he said snidely. "My father must be informed at once of this betrayal." He made his way for the throne room, but Merlin stopped him, much to the ire of Arthur.

"No, he shouldn't."

"I was under the impression that I was the one giving orders around here, Merlin," said Arthur, annoyed.

"Alined'll just deny it, then you'd just be humiliated," frowned Merlin. "We have to expose him ourselves, catch him in the act of doing magic."

"What did he honestly hope to accomplish by making me fall in love with you of all people?" wondered Arthur in distaste.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Merlin, as if speaking to a small child. "He wants to undermine you and make Camelot weak."

"I will not be made a fool of like that," he hissed. "This Alined must be stopped before he tries anything else on us and the kingdom."

They heard voices coming from the chambers of Alined. "Master...please...anything but that, please don't hurt me...here! I'll prove my potion worked! I'll drink it!"

"I won't stop you," they could hear Alined's scorning voice, as Trickler downed the potion with a gulp.

"Master," said Alined, his voice suddenly lofty. "I have to tell you something...I'm in love with the boy. Merlin."

"You're just making things up to cover yourself now," snarled Alined angrily.

"How dare you accuse me of making up my undying love!" hissed Trickler. "I'm going to find him...announce it to him…" before Trickler could even take a step outside, Arthur had already begun the process of dragging Merlin away from them, not stopping until they reached his chambers.

"How did the potion work on the jester, but not me?" asked Arthur, looking truly confused.

"He's probably making it up to cover the fact that he failed," said Merlin, remembering the other reason the potion would've failed, which didn't make any sense. Surely Gaius read that wrong?

"For once, you're right. That's the only reasonable explanation," said Arthur, as Merlin was preparing his bed for him. "But either way, he's using sorcery. For that, Alined must be stopped, as soon as possible."

a/n: apologies for the bad quality, but i hope you like it so far! x

love,

ana

#merthur #albion #merlin #arthur pendragon #camelot #king arthur #pendragon #emrys #anacreation