#but in avalon...he's really just alone

[larluce]

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

Tagging @stalesaltinecracker cause he asked for more, and @an-entity-i-think since she made a valid question

ENLACES A LAS OTRAS PARTES DE ESTE AU AQUÍ: PARTE 1 , PARTE 2 , PARTE 3 , PARTE 4 (estás aquí), PARTE 5

In "Valiant"

Arthur: (Impacient and worried cause Merlin hasn't told him about Valiant's echanted shield yet) Is there something you want to tell me?

Merlin: (who decided to not tell Arthur about the shield this time around so he won't embarrased him again) No.

Arthur: I know something is bothering you.

Merlin: Nothing is bothering me.

Arthur: (hurt) Don't you trust me? (thinking) Have I not been worth of your trust again?

Merlin: Of course I trust you! Arthur, I trust you with my life!

Arthur: Then tell me what's wrong! Why were you sneaking out of Valiant's chambers yesterday?

Merlin:(cursing internally that this Arthur somehow is more observant, but still says nothing)...

Arthur: Merlin, please.

Merlin: (puzzled and touched Arthur is saying "please" to him and he finally sighs, giving up cause he always hated lying to Arthur anyway) Valiant's been cheating, he has a magic shield.

Arthur: (hiding his relief Merlin finally told him) Why do you think that?

Merlin: I saw it. The snakes coming out of his shield. Gaius thinks Valiant used them to posioned Sir Ewan. But I don't have any proof, I get if you don't believ-

Arthur: I believe you.

Merlin: ... really? But I'm just a servant, I'm not-

Arthur: (fondly, holding Merlin's hands) Don't ever say that again. You're more than a servant to me. Always.

Merlin: (getting lost into his eyes, blushing)

Merlin: (snapping out of it) Ahmm... Then what will you do?

Arthur: There's not point in bothering my father with this without proof. Now that I know what I'm getting into, I'll know what to look out for.

Merlin: (smiling confident, cause he has the spell to expose Valiant prepared) I'm sure you'll beat him up easily.

In "The Mark of Nimueh"

Merlin: (going to the cavern alone to fight the Afanc himself, a torch in hand) Arthur?

Arthur: (doing the very same thing, a torch in hand as well) Merlin?

Merlin: What are you doing here?

Arthur: I was... strolling.

Merlin: In the vaults underneath the castle?

Arthur: It's my castle. What are YOU doing here?

Merlin: I was... taking samples.

Arthur: Taking samples.

Merlin: Yeah, apparently the sickness is spreading through water. So I was taking samples to find out with Gaius what's causing it.

Arthur: The well is several meters behind, Merlin.

Merlin: Ah... I got lost.

Arthur: (rolling his eyes) Only you, Merlin. (taking Merlin by the wrist) It's not safe for you here. I'm getting you out. (starts walking)

Merlin: (trying to free from his grip) What? No! I need to-

The Afanc roars, making its appareance.

Arthur and Merlin: Shit...

In "The Gates of Avalon"

Both Morgana and Merlin looking Sophia from afar.

Morgana: Who is that?

Merlin: (kind of mad he couldn't prevent the sidhes from entering the castle again, but hiding his discontent) Sophia Tirmawr. Arthur rescued her in the woods.

Morgana: She can't stay here.

Merlin: Well, she and her father are guests in the castle now.(seeing his chance) You had a nightmare about her?

Morgana: (surprised) How do you know about my nightmares?!

Merlin: Gaius.

Morgana: Right... (sighs) You must think I'm crazy.

Merlin: I don't. I also have a bad feeling about her.

Morgana: Really?

Merlin: It just seems pretty convenient. Escaping from raiders in Tír-Mòr? A kingdom too far away to corroborate any of that story? I don't believe she is who she claims to be.

Morgana: (opening up, feeling safe and understood by Merlin) In my dream she drowned Arthur in a lake. I'm scared, Merlin. My nightmares always come true. Always!

Merlin: I already warmed Arthur about her. He gave her the chambers far away from his. But I think you should talk to him about this.

Morgana: (laughs dryly) No, he won't believe me. He'll laugh at my face for sure. (thinking) And he's been too cold to me lately for some reason.

Merlin: There's no harm in trying. He might surprised you. (thinking) If this Arthur is nicer to me, he'll defenitely be nicer to her.

Morgana: Alright, I'll try.

...

Morgana: Arthur, I need to speak with you. It's about Sophia.

Arthur: (Who spied on her when she threatened Sophia in the hallway and still doesn't know how to feel about it) You're starting to sound like Merlin. Do you have a bad feeling about her too?

Morgana: She isn't what she seems.

Arthur: Why? What makes you say that?

Morgana: I just... have a feeling. It's difficult to describe.

Arthur: Try me.

Morgana: I had a dream. A nightmare. She drowned you in a lake. She killed you, Arthur.

Arthur: And why would that be a bad thing?

Morgana: (confused)... what?

Arthur: Don't you want me dead, Morgana?

Morgana: (horrified) No! Of course not! Why would you say that?

Arthur: (shakes his head) Nothing. Forget I said anything.

Morgana: (firmly) No. Arthur, listen to me. (holds his face and Arthur forces himself not to flinch) I don't know what's happening in that head of yours, but let me get this straight. I love you and I care for you. You're like a brother to me. I would cut all my limbs before letting anything happen to you!

Arthur: (with teary eyes, but forcing himself not to cry) You're just saying that.

Morgana: It's the truth.

Arthur: (his voice almost breaking) So you don't hate me?

Morgana: What made you think-(opens her eyes wide in fury) It was her, wasn't she? She put that idea in your head! (starts stomping out of the chambers)

Arthur: (stops her) Hey! Where are you going?

Morgana: I'm going to kill her! No, first I'm going to drag her by the hair through all the castle to let her know what happens when you mess with people's minds!

Arthur: (Shocked for a second at Morgana's thirst for blood and revenge not being drawn at him, but for him. And then he laughs, laughs and laughs)

Morgana: Why are you laughing? (starts to question his sanity, worried) Are you Okay?

Arthur: (stops laughing and smiles) Yes, I am now. Thank you.

#merlin bbc #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merlin fanfic #merthur fic #merlin prompt #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur fanfic #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

[pigfacedbitch]

HIIII I'm a big fan of your work and I really love it your writing is amazing , this may be a weird request and if your uncomfortable you don't have to do it , it's fine I completely understand, so it's like merlin and Arthur and the reader and they are all soulmates and it's there first time meeting each other . Thank you in advance

Modern! Reader Gets Transported to Albion

idea : modern world! reader gets transported to Albion and meets Arthur and Merlin. unbeknownst to you and the prince of Camelot, the three of you are soulmates.

type : imagines

word count : 0.7k

pairing/s involved : Arthur x Reader, Merlin x Reader

warning/s : almost drowning, panicking

here is my masterlist!

Note : MY FIRST REQUEST! Whoever you are, thank you for reading my works and I might've changed a little bit in your request. Also, I apologize that it took so long, school has been keeping me busy. I hope you like it! 😊

You've always been a fan of BBC Merlin so when you had the chance to take a trip to Europe, you did.

You went to all the locations where they filmed the series like Château de Pierrefonds and Chislehurst Caves. The last destination is where the Lake of Avalon is; Forest of Dean.

Luckily you are alone, giving you the chance to fully enjoy the beautiful sceneries and serene atmosphere.

It made you feel a deeper sense of nostalgia and melancholy— how the precious characters you loved dearly died and were 'buried' there.

With one last selfie, you were about to walk back to you car when you hear it. A faint voice, filled with sorrow and longing.

"(Y/N)... Save us."

It's coming from the lake.

Something glimmers on it's shore, a sapphire drop necklace with golden chain. When you attempt to pick it up, the world begins to spin.

Suddenly, you were underwater.

Panic builds in your chest not because you can't swim, but an unseen force seems to harshly pull you down no matter how hard you try to stay afloat.

"Help me! Please, someone—"

Air runs out from your lungs when a pair of bulky arms grabs your body and begins to swim you to safety.

"Don't worry, I got you."

I heard that voice before.

The stranger easily carries you to ground, draping a large cloak on your shivering body. Rubbing your eyes for better sight, you look up...

Bradley James?

"Are you alright?"

No. You're certain that Bradley doesn't look that young anymore, keeping up with his latest activities online.

"I told you to be careful, Arthur!"

Turning your head, you see Colin Morgan run towards the two of you with a worried expression on his face.

He looks younger too.

"Ah, Merlin. Fetch the horses, she might need medical attention. May I ask for you name, my lady?"

Arthur? Merlin? Wait... Oh my God.

Realization hits you hard when both men stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

The way they speak, their clothes, their appearances... it's exactly the same in the show you binge-watch every Christmas season.

Am I in the show? That's not possible...right?

"W-Where are we?"

"Camelot."

Shit.

You expect someone to go 'You just got punked!'; that would've been better than two men (who you have a huge crush on) staring at you, confused.

You waited for a moment but nothing happens.

This is real. I'm actually in Albion.

Fear and anxiety creeps into your system, as many questions form in your head. Did I die? What's going on? What season is this? How can I ever get back?

Due to the overwhelming emotions, your breath shortens and keeled over.

Bradley, or Arthur (You have no idea anymore), quickly catches you and gently carries you to his horse.

"We must make haste!" was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

Merlin, on the hand, knew this would happen. In fact, he dreams of you.

He sees you in vague images, like old memories— happily kissing his cheek, witnessing him use magic, encouraging him to do another trick, etc.

He already etched in his mind your pretty face, your melodious voice, your playful grin— everything about you.

Then Arthur shares the same experience, dreaming about a woman who's description mirrors yours.

Kilgharrah told him that the woman of their dreams will arrive soon from faraway land and will play significant role in the prophecy.

However, the dragon didn't specify how. He only said—

"(Y/N) is your soulmate, Emrys. She sees you and Arthur in a light no one else ever will."

Soulmates are uncommon, even for druids. Only a few were blessed, to have something so wholesome and pure.

So when he heard your cry for help, he is ecstatic. You have finally arrived. His soulmate... and Arthur's.

He wryly smiles at this. Funny how he shares, not only his destiny with the prat, but also you.

The trip to the castle was faster than they anticipated. Arthur told him to call Gaius and meet them in his bedroom.

It caught the attention of everyone. The prince carrying an unconscious woman in his private chambers will surely stir gossip.

But Arthur didn't care, and Merlin didn't know if he should be proud or worried.

The court physician said you are healthy, they only have to wait for you to wake up. He left to attend other matters; leaving the three of you alone.

"This is her." The prince laughs in disbelief, incognizant of what Merlin knows. "The girl in my dreams, I can't believe it!"

Merlin tries to hide his smirk, Arthur can be so adorable when he's clueless.

"Nor can I, sire."

#bbc merlin #emrys #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin imagines #bbc merlin headcanons #merlin x reader #merlin x reader headcanons #arthur pendragon x reader #arthur pendragon x reader headcanons #arthur pendragon imagines #bbc merlin imagine #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merthur #soulmate au #colin morgan #bradley james #bbc merlin preferences

[himbo-aficionado]

I just think its interesting how at the very end of the story, we see Merlin walking past Avalon, the place where he sent off Arthur all those centuries ago. There are many different ways the scene could've went on to display his everlasting loyalty. It easily could've been a scene where maybe Merlin was with his wife and a kid who was named after Arthur, or he became a historian/scholar who kept the Arthurian legends alive after everything he went through or maybe even a physicist trying to build a time machine, find a loop in time to go back and fix the past.

But no.

We see him all alone, old and unequivocally miserable. No longer meddling with fate nor trying anything at all. Lost in a world beyond time that no man should live past or would even be able to comprehend. We see that he never moved on from Arthur, having somewhat a glimmer of hope deep within him. Nobody speaks about how insanely difficult it must have been to have hope especially when you have no end to your own life. As mortals, we can't even bear grief for a short period of time. Yet, Merlin lived the cursed life of an immortal, a life where he will only keep losing everyone he's ever loved. A life full of grief.

In the modern world shown, nobody even believes in magic or practises it and yet he...still believes that someday Arthur will return to him. In the past, he reiterates that he just wants Arthur to see that everything he does is for him. He tells Hunith that Arthur only likes him because he doesn't know him. We see he acknowledges that Arthur is doing acts of service because he likes him yet Merlin couldn't be satiated because he still wasn't his true self to Arthur. To be seen and known for who you truly are is to be loved, that is all he ever wanted from Arthur, even from the very beginning of their relationship.

"You never once sought any credit"

"Its not why I do it"

During the magic reveal, he said "I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.", still desperately wanting it to be known that his entire life was devoted to Arthur. There was no talk about legalising magic and whatnot between them either after that. He only kept repeating that he was born to serve Arthur. We see in real time just how much he meant when he said "There will never be another like you, Arthur." Evidently, he meant that Arthur is the Once and Future King but it also plays out for Merlin, because there never was anyone like Arthur in his life after that. To the point where he could find no purpose upon losing Arthur.

And yes he keeps saying that its his destiny to be Arthur's servant, that he grew up and learned the meaning of duty but is that really all it is? Towards the end, it was apparent that Merlin's objective was no longer for magic to be accepted in Camelot (as much as he wanted it). Ever since he found out about Arthur's Bane, it was all about keeping him alive. Even when the great dragon told him that there is nothing he could do anymore, Merlin could not accept to lose Arthur. "I can't lose him, he's my friend." It didn't matter that magic isn't legal yet in Camelot. He could not give two fucks about it anymore or else we would've seen magic in the future scene. One can assume that he completely stopped trying to find a solution. Or even lost the will to live.

What I'm trying to say is that, the final scene really is more than just an epilogue to show his loyalty, immortality and despair. If you think about it for a moment, it shows that somewhere along all the fights, snide remarks, banter, and what he and Arthur think isn't exactly a friendship, - they're stupid, don't mind that - he was in love with Arthur. And Arthur loved him in return even in the face of death as the truth came crumbling down. Its not as simple as 'falling in love' because, I don't think Merlin woke up one day and realised that he was inconveniently in love with the idiot arrogant prince who was tied to him by fate.

Their love was inevitable but it definitely stopped becoming destiny and duty a long time ago, it became a choice. "I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die". Merlin was, and I quote "putting up" with Arthur not because it was his life sentence to do so; it was because he wanted to. The worst thing of all is: Merlin chose to do it for the rest of his life.

#didn't mean to ramble like that my bad #i was thinking #i will not do it again #merthur brainrot is real #warn ur friends #walk with me #today i will wear my white button down #merthur #bbcmerlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merthur

[geraltyen-of-corvobianco]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳.

-

Alone. She was all alone.

But not really, she had Kelpie. That was all she had left. After bringing her parents to the Isle of Avalon with the help of Little Horse, she was left to wander the worlds and times with Kelpie. Away from the Wild Hunt. Away from anyone who wants her for her powers. Away from the continent and her own world.

Away from everything she once knew.

Out of a sudden desperation, Ciri leaned against the mane of her black horse and took a deep breath.

"Kelpie," she whispered, "Bring me home..."

The black horse neighed softly, sadly. She nuzzled her snout against Ciri's hand, as if offering some form of comfort and consolation. As if she understood.

The witcheress chuckled, though without any hint of mirth. It was the kind of laugh one makes when one is lonely, hopeless or depressed. She hugged Kelpie's snout in her arms, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to flow from her eyes.

Ciri already knew that it wouldn't work, but she just wanted to voice it out; some last desperate grasp at a non-existent hope. She knew she didn't have a home anymore. At least her dreams of becoming a wandering Witcher seems to have been fulfilled. Did Geralt feel this way when he was a Witcher? Well, she couldn't ask him now, could she?

Not anymore...

#the witcher #the witcher books #witcher fan art #cirilla of cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #witcher ciri #ciri #geraltyen of corvobianco #archive of the continent #the witcher 3

[xjulixred45x]

I was working on the requests but I remembered a conversation I had with my sister the other day about an interesting topic,

How Nakaba WASTED THE GOLDEN OPORTUNITY of using Morgana Le Fay as the VILLAIN of 4kota(Even if it's cliché)

and it could have been implemented much earlier!! After all, in the Arthurian legends, Morgana is Arthur's half-sister, she could have participated in NNT as an ally who little by little went to the dark side (like Cassandra from Tangled but without a happy ending).

Imagine this, Morgana was just born to Uther Pendragon, having a great ability for magic, but he decided that she could not inherit his throne for x or y reason (being a woman, some profession, being a daughter out of wedlock) and sent her away to Avalon, where She lives her entire life away from her father's influence, but with great resentment towards him for having pushed her away (maybe even killing her mother too?) so she hones her magic with the fairies and wizards of Avalon.

So time passes and Morgana becomes a very strong magician, but she learns from others that her younger half-brother, Arthur, has just pulled the sword from the stone, and that he will be crowned king of Camelot.

NOW, Morgana would like to believe that her hatred is only reserved for Uther, so she goes to Camelot as soon as possible and the whole way she doesn't stop thinking about all this: how long has it been since she went to Camelot? What is her younger brother like? Is he like his-their- father? Although in general I think that Morgana did not want Arthur to be alone running the kingdom, whatever it was, he was her brother after all.

I think Arthur wouldn't even know he had a sister until shortly before Morgana arrived, like "oh by the way, your sister is coming to visit, your half-sister from the king" and Arthur would obviously be nervous about Morgana rejecting him but VERY EXCITED once he hears that she is a powerful mage.

And when do they meet? It's like putting a black cat with an orange cat, but surprisingly they would get along, at first.

Arthur would take Morgana as an advisory figure as she was more in contact with the political environment and helped him adapt to the royal environment, they shared tricks for fights, etc. Everything seems to be going smoothly, they both get along well.

Arthur has a STABLE and loving figure who is willing to teach him and be a family figure at the same time. and Morgana has someone who listens to her and makes her feel important.

but during the series the problems begin.

As the series progresses and Arthur becomes stronger and more mature, Morgana feels that the hatred she had towards Uther is no longer enough, as she begins to doubt whether or not she should love Arthur as HE is her replacement for a "proper heir", yes, she knows that's fucked up to think like that, but on the other hand, is it really wrong if it's your birthright?

and Morgana may have had these moments of weakness where she questioned her recently found platonic love for Arthur and her former bitterness with the Pendragons, having her ups and downs.

She loves Arthur, but she's also very recent about what her father did, and she's trying SO hard not to let it affect him.

But that's not the only thing that pushes her to the limit.

Let's say when the holy war begins, Morgana has a thousand and one doubts about her place in the world and then Arthur DIES.

and what's worse! When he revives, she realizes what Merlin wants to do with him.

(It would be especially horrible if Morgana and Merlin end up having a relationship as friends or as a pupil and teacher themselves).

Morgana pleads, BEGGS, Arthur not to trust what Merlin tells him, that what she wants him to do will not be for the greater good, but for her own benefit and Arthur is confused.

On one hand he wants to believe that after everything he's been through with Morgana she wouldn't lie to him, but Merlin is the closest thing he has to a mother...and the baby is very confused about what to do.

and here two possible endings and how Morgana reappeared in 4Kota:

1- STICKED TO THE CANON:

Arthur ends up bringing chaos, realizing that Morgana was telling the truth, Camelot is destroyed (maybe even Avalon too?) and that makes Morgana lose faith in wanting to help Arthur and the deadly sins, since THEY were the ones who brought that destruction to HIS HOME, and decides to do what has to be done.

which means that a plot begins against the Monarchies, especially against Liones and the Demonic kingdom, seeing them as the main causes of the destruction of Camelot (Meliodas and Zeldris), at the same time that he would try by all means to usurp Arthur's throne. . Even if he tries to make her reconsider.

(good alternative, Sunshine Arthur with wife Guinevere but that has some congruence in the canonical story, but I have a better one:)

2: FUCK THE CANON

Morgana applies a Cassandra from Tangled and obtains chaos instead of Arthur, becoming an antagonist who, although she helps defeat the demon king and so on, at the end of the conflict becomes a full-fledged villain.

having been devalued and pushed aside her entire life NOW even by her brother, and finally having the power to have what rightfully belongs to her makes Morgana very power-hungry. At the same time, Arthur would be having a lot of regret for not having believed his sister at the time and wants to redeem her, but it is difficult when Morgana begins her sale to all those who do not follow her to her "new Camelot."

Arthur here would not have Chaos but he would have Escalibur, which would be his advantage against Morgana in a certain way. although she is working on a "bastard sword" to change that.

Arthur is still a cinnamon roll, only with trauma and above all WITHOUT THE CHAOS, so he thinks things through better and is not corrupted.

Morgana, on the other hand, suffers a great mental decline due to Chaos, but she disguises it under the face of a smiling Queen.

Can you imagine if she created a Mordred from Chaos? ☠️ she says he is her son but trains him so that he can face Arthur and win the crown for her (because Morgana knows she couldn't handle all the allies Arthur has in this reality).

or she just wants to make Mordred do her dirty work because deep down she still loves his little brother...

(it would be especially creepy if said Mordred is similar in appearance to both her and Arthur ☠️ as if she wants a child, but also a version of Arthur that if he had listened to her and joined her...)

anyway...what do you think?

regardless of that, FUCK YOU NAKABAAAAAA!!

#headcanons #morgan le fay #morgana #morgana le fay #i didnt pronunce “morgan” right right? #im sorry in my language its “Morgana” and Morgan is a Males name lol #4kota #four knights of the apocalypse #nnt #nanatsu no taizai #nanatsu no taizai arthur #arthur 4kota #nnt merlin #fuck you nakaba

[willowalmondstar]

“It’s not awkward for you to live there?”

At the end of the day, it was a free house, but you did not think Alex would accept that answer gracefully. She was right, after all, even if awkward did not fully capture it. Elizabeth helped raise Alex, whereas the druid was just a wise friend to you. The hours you spent together were in pursuit of knowledge and magic to save the world; it slipped your mind to ask her favorite color, or how she grew up. Those were details you learned after her end. (She liked green, and was shy as a child.)

It did not feel right to share the real answer with Alex; that sometimes you stared at the walls for hours, because you still had not redecorated, and never intended to, because she had filled every space on her walls with photos and trinkets. Everyone still referred to it as Elizabeth’s house, not yours, and you thought of it the same way. The house was spacious for one person, but you barely spent time in it. You were only there to sleep, when Linda had enough research to do that she did not let you stay over, or when Avalon was in one of his moods and locked you out for the night, or when even Ydris found you too boring or on-edge to play with. 

Last week, Anne had asked you how long you had been on Jorvik, and was unsettled by how you stared at her blankly, unable to answer. A summer. It was only ever supposed to be a summer. It was funny, really, that when she described how time felt on Pandoria, you could almost relate—another thing you would never admit to.

After her release, you and Anne spent a lot of time together. As expected of two young adult girls, you were often found chatting over coffee at the Firgrove cafe, or giggling over hair choices in the Goldenleaf salon. You both raised Concorde, though some days Anne had to take a break and remind herself that she really was retraining her horse as a foal, and this was not another Pandoric time-loop nightmare. In the beginning, Concorde stared at you, and reminded you that Elizabeth bonded with another incarnation of him. You told him you were sorry. He refused to listen to you for the rest of the day.

Anne once confided in you that she felt like the odd woman out in the Soul Riders, and after you understood her better, you told her the same. It was the first secret you let off your chest. There were only supposed to be four Soul Riders, but there you were—a poor replacement for Anne when you first started training, and now no longer a stand-in at all, but something else undefined. The druids did not know what to do with you. They kept you close, in Elizabeth’s house, trained you at the northern paddock, and gave you the missions any one of them could have handled in an afternoon. Alex, Lisa, and Linda treated Anne like she had never left, and you like you had always been part of them. Neither you nor Anne felt comfortable with it, but you could not blame them. They did not even notice they were doing it, and was that not beautiful? They saw the five of you as unbroken sisters, like you were invariably meant to end up this way. Neither you nor Anne would shatter that image. They drew strength from it, and with the ever-looming Garnok threat, with shadows around every corner, every bit of magic you could sap from one another was priceless.

Living in Elizabeth’s old house was a blessing. The druids did not exactly pay a wage for Soul Riding, but they did not make you pay rent to live in a poor dead woman’s house on their homeland, either. You could pay for food by helping out Farah, and anything extra you did around the island helped buy research books for Linda or even some new guitar strings for Lisa.

You did not need Elizabeth’s ghost to keep you company. Your horse was everything you needed, in the end, and you had your Soul Sisters to fill in the gaps. The druids supported you, and the grass in Jorvik grew only to carry your feet. Surely, any doubts you felt were spurred on by Garnok alone, Aideen curse him.

Yet, everything kept her alive. Concorde did not speak of it, but his eyes lingered on things that bled with her memory. The Soul Riders knew that when Alex could not be found anywhere else, she would be by Elizabeth’s grave in Doyle’s Abbey; often with Maya, usually practicing her lightning magic. She asserted that her mentor’s criticisms always made her better. The roses bloomed with the scent of her perfume. Your neighbor crocheted on a bench in Valedale using the yarn you gave them from Elizabeth’s extensive collection. The house creaked with the memory of her footsteps. You asked Fripp, hesitantly, if her spirit could still be around; you had to free lost souls often enough that it was a valid concern. He told you not to worry, but when you next came to her cabin, it smelled strangely of herbs and your fingers tensed with the presence of ancient magic. He did not bring it up again.

“No, it’s not awkward. I couldn’t imagine a stranger living in her home; could you?”

Alex smiled at that. “You’re right. I’m glad it’s you. You keep her alive.”

And that was the best you could’ve asked for, all things considered.

#942 words #sso #star stable #star stable online #ssoblr #fic #elizabeth sunbeam my beloved #star stable spoilers

[treasureguardingdragon]

i hate that arthur had to die at the end, but in a way i understand that the writers wanted to stay true to the legend in that aspect

what i hate MORE is the fact that they never really saved albion?? where was the legalisation of magic?? where was the true peace more than arthur saying ‘youve brought peace at last’ but the rest of the kingdom not having a clue that morgana had been felled?

even if arthur had to die before all that happened, where was the scene of merlin and gwen comforting each other, and gwen making the changes to albion in arthur’s name? where was the knowledge that albion had been united when people always break the peace treaties every two seconds?

what i disliked the most, was that there was very little hope at the end of the show. arthur was dead. gwaine was dead. merlin was lost. gwen was alone. magic users (as far as we’re aware) were still persecuted. There was no uniting of albion at all.

even with the prophecy that arthur would rise again, there was no scene that comfirmed he actually would. no golden flash of light as merlin walked past avalon, no modern merlin running into the water as confused arthur rises in full medieval armour. it was just a solitary older merlin doomed to spend his life in servitude of a destiny that might never come to pass

#fandom polls #merlin #bbc merlin #gwen #arthur pendragon #merlin meta

[separatist-apologist]

The Fire Won't Burn Me

All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

for @elucienweekofficial

Summary: Princess Elain Archeron wants nothing more than to be reunited with her missing youngest sister and to see her father finally emerge from the fog of grief he's been living under since her mother died. When her step mother arranges for her older sister to fetch her youngest to celebrate Elain's impending engagement to a neighboring prince, it seems like she'll get her wish. That is, until her father's fearsome huntsman steps in and wrecks it all. Now she's on the run, hiding in the forest to keep herself- and her heart- intact.

In her quest to understand why someone would want her heart carved from her chest, Elain will have to reconcile what it means to truly be the fairest of them all

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The very first thing Elain did once the sun set on that second night was turn on the tap. Water the color of rust flooded the tub Elain had spent the majority of the evening scrubbing and rescrubbing. She was desperate for a bath to wash away her fear and a night of running through the mud. After that, she was going to burn her fine dress even if it meant showing up to Beron’s doorstep in the rough peasant clothing Jurian had gifted her.

Elain didn’t mind—truly. In her mind, Beron was kind and generous. He’d hear her out, take her in, and keep her safe. And sure, maybe in return she’d marry one of his sons but that was worth it to see her stepmother dethroned. It had become Elain’s new favorite fantasy, one she felt immense guilt for having. She shouldn’t wish ill on someone, but maybe it was okay given her stepmother had ordered her heart carved out.

Elain sat on the edge of the floor, watching the water shift from rusty red, to a diluted orange, to yellow and finally clear. 

She gave it a little extra time, both to heat up and to keep from reverting back to that horrible brown. Once she’d convinced herself the water was safe, Elain undressed, kicking the dress to the kitchen before sinking into the tub. Jurian had sent soap—nothing fancy, and no oils or lotions. She was learning to make do, though sometimes all Elain really wanted was to break down sobbing. Two days, she reminded herself. That’s all it had been since she’d left. Five since Nesta had set out. Elain wasn’t going to die, not like this. She knew, if Nesta was alive, that she’d fight, too. Elain couldn’t be the thing that tripped her sisters up, that made them careless. She could handle herself, at least for now.

And Lucien had agreed to take her to Avalon when the snow cleared. Three months of this, and then she’d plead her case to their king. Her plan was in place. For now, all she had to do was lay low, pretend she was no one interesting at all, and survive the winter.

That didn’t keep the thoughts from racing around her head. Why, why, why. There had to be more than just her looks. She’d been beautiful her whole life and her stepmother had been there for all of it. Surely she would have been easier to kill as a little girl? Elain turned that thought over in her head endlessly until the water had become cold and the knocking wind against the windows made her think someone was trying to sneak in.

Elain had considered just how lonely it was to live alone, but that first night without exhaustion driving her into dreamless sleep was the worst by far. Every little noise pulled her out of bed until Elain had to shove a pillow over her head to keep it all out.

By the time dawn broke, Elain was ready for a little sunlight. The world was mocking her, because instead of a warm, cheerful autumn day, Elain was gifted more rain. There would be no working outdoors in the garden to prepare it for spring. 

“I suppose I’ll start indoors, then,” she said to no one in particular. Elain took her time cleaning out the sink, drowning beetles in the drain before filling it with soapy water. Everything needed a good scrub, from the windows to the walls to the floors and everything in between. She had a feeling she’d find a place that was terribly charming. 

The work was dull and yet it passed the time well enough. Elain started on the walls, hopping onto counters to reach the top of the pointed ceiling while grime dripped toward the dirty floors. It had to be done, and the rain outside kept Elain from giving up halfway through. She was frustrated and bored, wishing for someone to talk to as she scrubbed every inch of the years of accumulated grime. 

As Elain worked, little birds fluttered to the windowsill to watch, chirruping sweet songs they bounced between them. A doe scuttled by, peering inside with wide, curious brown eyes and when Elain approached her, the creature allowed Elain to scratch behind her ears before she took off, spooked by a snapping twig close by. 

A knock on the door, followed by, “Let me in!” sent Elain scurrying for Jurian. Brown hair slicked over his forehead, making him look more like a drowned rat than anything. Suppressing her smile, Elain stepped out of the way as Jurian stomped mud onto her freshly washed floors. 

There was no complaining when Jurian was bringing her food. She saw the rueful expression when he, too, realized he was making more work.

“Should get a doormat for this place,” he said in that gruff way of his. “Looks good.”

“Thanks,” Elain replied, unpacking the cloth bags he’d dumped on the counter. “Do you want to stay—”

“No,” he interrupted quickly, taking a step back. “No, you ah…you’ve got this under control.”

“Well—” 

The door snapped shut before Elain could finish her sentence. It would have been nice to have a little company she supposed, and maybe it was for the best that Jurian didn’t want much to do with her. If someone came sniffing around, he wouldn’t have anything worth sharing, besides. Still, he could have stayed a little while, even if it was just to complain.

With a sigh, Elain carefully unpacked the things he’d brought her. There was more than enough to get her through the week and all of it was a reminder that she didn’t know how to cook anything but pie. 

While Elain agonized over what kind of pie she might make, fate knocked again. Not fate, but Jurian, who didn’t stick around to be thanked for the lovely basket of ruby red apples left just outside her doorstep. Elain came fully out, hands on her hips.

“Thank you!” she yelled, looping the handle around her elbow and coming back inside. It wasn’t a fully cooked roast, but it did decide her meal for her. 

Pie could be dinner, she reminded herself. And pie was decidedly not cleaning. With that in mind, Elain made the best of the silence and began working on her crust and her filling. She hummed a little, making up nonsense words to a nonsense song until she was almost relaxed. Elain set an apple pie up on the windowsill to cool while she began to work on a blueberry and lemon pie.

Elain turned her back just long enough to hunt down a couple plates, and returned to the huntsman at her window, finger stuck between the latticed crust for a taste.

She narrowed her eyes. “Back already?”

“If you wanted my attention, an apple pie will do it,” Lucien replied roguishly. “I brought you a chair.”

“Just one?”

“How often are you entertaining guests, princess?” he asked, sliding that apple coated finger into his mouth.

“Hey!” Elain said, smacking his hand with her spatula when he tried to reach for another taste. “Get out of here.”

“Let me in,” he retorted, his face twisted with outrage. “Feed me for my trouble.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she grumbled, though Elain trotted to the door all the same. Lucien stepped inside, a chair held in one broad hand. “Why do you keep coming back?”

He set the chair down, testing to make sure it didn’t wobble. “It’s my fault you’re out here.”

“You didn’t order my death,” she reminded him, softening ever so slightly. 

“I would have done it, though. If you hadn’t been…” Lucien trailed off, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Anyway. Are you sharing that pie?” She started to tell him no before remembering that Lucien was the first person who’d looked her in the eye and spoken to her all day. Jurian had darted out so quickly there’d been no time to even beg him to stay. Lucien was looking right at her—he wanted to talk to her.

And besides, engendering a little good will from the man who could give her news of the palace and get her to Avalon couldn’t hurt, right?

“Yes,” she told him, gesturing toward the table. Lucien went for one of the rickety chairs, plopping to the freshly washed floor in order to examine it. “I don’t have much else, though.”

“I’m surprised a princess knows how to bake at all.”

“My mom taught me,” she admitted, leaving Lucien to his task in favor of cutting up pie slices. “I would have done anything with her. She so rarely paid me any attention.”

He hummed, his tone urging her to continue. Ignoring whether it was wise to tell him so much, Elain plowed ahead. “I don’t think I can eat pie for every meal.”

“I don’t see why not,” Lucien replied in that easy, laidback way of his. “But if you’re angling for a cookbook, I could probably arrange that.”

“And someone willing to try my concoctions,” she added quickly. Might as well force him to interact with her on a more regular basis. Just for information, she thought privately, knowing full and well it was a lie. She dared to look at him, sprawled on the floor trying to tighten one of the legs on the chair so he didn’t have to eat on the floor. 

“I never turn down a free meal,” he said, frowning not at her but the task laid before him.

 Elain walked to the table, balancing her pie, plates, and utensils carefully.

“Why didn’t you kill me, Lucien?” she asked. His head snapped up, eyes wide. There was no way he’d answer her, and as the silence stretched, Elain scrambled for something that would spare them both how awkward things were becoming. 

“Because,” he finally said, rising to his feet. Lucien was so tall, broad and muscular and handsome despite the scars on his face. A little rough and yet she could picture him in fine clothing. In fact, it wasn’t hard at all to imagine him as someone that she might have been interested in back home. A little rakish, perhaps, but easy to smooth out. 

“Because,” he said again, taking a heavy breath. “I’m surrounded by so much ugliness. So much cruelty, too. And it seemed a shame to take your life and rob the world of your kindness…and your beauty.”

“Oh,” she murmured, suddenly embarrassed. “I…thank you.”

Lucien balanced himself carefully in the rickety chair, cheeks flushed red. Waving a hand, he mumbled, “Don’t mention it.”

“I was hoping you’d tell me if you heard any news of Nesta?” she asked, sliding a piece of pie to his plate. Lucien watched her, waiting until she sat in the good chair before taking a bite. “Or my family?”

Lucien’s eyes fell to his plate. “Well…no news of Nesta…but I have heard that princess Elain ran off with a stable boy.”

Elain gaped. “A—stable boy?”

“True love, I suppose,” Lucien agreed humorlessly. “Prince Graysen is terribly disappointed.”

“I guess that’s better than finding my body,” she replied, heart hammering in her chest. “I did wonder how my absence would be explained.”

“Now you know,” he said, taking a large bite. “Amarantha seems placated for now.”

“I wish I knew why,” Elain lamented, pushing apples around her plate. Lucien looked up again, and before he could say it was simple jealousy, Elain held up her hand. She thought if she had to entertain that theory she might actually go insane. It was too ridiculous to be believable. “Don’t.”

“You asked,” Lucien reminded her, though he didn’t push it. 

“Tell me about Avalon,” Elain said instead, wanting a change in topic. “What do you know about the king?” Lucien grimaced. “Are you sure about this plan?” 

No, she wasn’t, but it was better than nothing. “Just tell me what I need to know.”

“Well,” Lucien began, chewing slowly. “I hear he rules with an iron fist.”

“And his sons? I heard—” Lucien’s gaze pinned her in place, waiting with what she thought was delight. 

“What did you hear?”

No turning back now. “That they’re handsome. More handsome than the brother before them.”

Lucien rubbed his jaw, contemplating this. “So his youngest son would be the most handsome of them all?”

Elain bit her bottom lip. “It’s not important. But…”

Lucien’s smile made her heart stutter. “No, of course not. But if you’re going to throw yourself at a foreign prince, he might as well be easy to look at.”

She nodded. “And I thought…if he saw me, he’d be more willing to help.”

“Oh, I’m sure he couldn’t resist if he saw you,” Lucien replied, turning back to his pie. “If you want to know what I know of Avalon and its court, it's that you’re better off trying a different route. I can see, from that look on your face, that this your best plan. If I were you, I would try the oldest. Eris.”

“I don’t think I’m first born son material,” she replied, though Elain was intrigued. 

“He would help, I think. From what I know of him, I think he would want to help…or invade. But if you can convince him, you’ll have your shot with the king. I’m told he’s Beron’s right hand man.”

“That's…actually very helpful, Lucien.”

He only smiled. “Well. I would hate to see you trapped in a marriage with a lowly born seventh son. Aim high, princess. Until then, let me see if I can get you that cookbook.”

“Thank you, Lucien,” Elain said, hoping her tone conveyed her gratitude.

He ducked his head. “Don’t mention it.”

But she would, one day. When Nesta was queen and they were all safe, Elain meant to insist Nesta make him a lord of some parcel of land. It was, after all, the least she could do.

LUCIEN: 

Trudging back to the castle was torture. Lucien knew if he stayed away too long, Amarantha would start to wonder what he was up to. He needed to be seen on occasion, mulling about with animal hides and meat for the kitchen. No poachers mercifully, though Lucien still made his way to Amarantha to give her the report. 

That box sat on her vanity, the heart likely rotting inside. She wore a furred black night dress and blood red lips as she dragged a brush through soft, ruby waves. “Do you plan to hibernate this winter?” she purred when he finished his report. “Or will you be remaining in the palace?”

“I’ll remain in the forest, like I always do,” Lucien said stiffly, taking a small, measured step away from the queen. “Poachers take the opportunity to pull bears from their dens.”

“How very noble of you, prince,” Amarantha replied, those beetle black eyes glittering in the firelight. “Do you miss your home?”

Yes. “No,” he replied, knowing full well she wouldn’t tolerate any disobedience. Lucien hated her, though. He’d never liked her, but knowing she was keeping a heart on her desk like a trophy, that she delighted in the death of an unarmed woman, made him want to fly across the room and kill her. 

“Keep the paths cleared,” she said, turning away from him abruptly. Just like that, he’d stopped amusing her. “I’m meeting with the princess of Scythia in a month and I don’t want her stranded in the ice.”

Lucien might have told her it was impossible to keep ice off the roads , but Amarantha knew that. She merely wanted something to punish him for later—some warning she could call back to when she made another absurd demand of him. Lucien nodded his head, bowed deep, and retreated back into the hall. 

He knew Elain would want news of her sisters and if he asked, he’d arouse Amarantha’s suspicions. That was something he’d need to get from one of the servants. In the past, Lucien might have gone looking for one of the kitchen girls, cornering her in some dark hall.

That seemed lewd to him now. Elain was in his head, reminding him that he was a prince, and princes didn’t get caught in the serving halls with their pants around their ankles. And a princess likely didn’t want a rake for a husband.

Not that Elain wanted him as a husband, either. Not really—he was merely an abstract concept to her. Lucien wondered what she’d do when she learned he was the youngest son she was planning on. Living in exile, not even Beron Vanserra’s actual son. Or, so he said, anyway. Lucien didn’t know how much truth there was to the rumor his father was actually King Helion of the Western Isles. 

Maybe Beron merely wanted to torture his wife again, and inventing an affair was the easiest way to do so. That certainly seemed like his father. Lucien did think Beron would take Elain, though. As soon as he learned how weak Ellesmere was, he’d be planning an invasion. What better way to solidify his right to rule than by marrying one of his sons to their only surviving princess?

It certainly wouldn’t be to him, though. Lucien had been sincere when he told her to aim for Eris. She’d end up his wife, regardless. Maybe Cadmus, who’d become governor of the new territory with his captive wife at his side, a symbol meant to keep the people from rioting. 

And Lucien would have to flee. Again. 

He was halfway out the door when a hand on his wrist stopped him. Lucien whirled, reaching for his blade when he realized it was the king who’d stopped him. Lucien immediately dipped into a bow, heart hammering in his throat.

“My lord,” he breathed. When was the last time he’d seen the man? Let alone see him looking so clear?

“I need you, huntsman,” he said, his voice hoarse and strangely desperate. “My Elain—my Elain is missing.”

Luicen swallowed his horror. “I…”

“She’s run off. Please—please find her. Bring her home, tell her…tell her I’m not angry. She can stay married, just…just bring her home.”

“I…”

The king's grip tightened. “Promise me.” he demanded, brown eyes searching Lucien’s. “Swear you’ll find her and bring her back.”

Lucien couldn’t make that promise. Elain could never come home, not as long as Amarantha lived there. Lucien almost told the king everything. He nearly confessed what he’d almost done and how the king's daughter was living like a common peasant in the woods.

He couldn’t. So Lucien offered a smile and nodded his head. “I promise.”

After all–he was keeping her safe. And he had to believe that was what the king wanted, above all else. Safety for his beloved daughter, even if it meant he couldn’t see her. The king relaxed, stumbling back a step. Lucien wondered the exact manner of the king's disinterest in his home. Was it truly grief?

Or was it Amarantha? 

That was a question for another day, given the king exhaled a shaky sigh and turned back for the interior of the palace, mumbling something softly under his breath. Lucien didn’t dare chase after him. Not yet, anyway. He’d talk to Elain, first, and see if there was any truth to his suspicions. Maybe there was more to wanting Elain dead than just her beauty.

Maybe Elain would be able to come home if they could untangle it, too.

Lucien set back out, collecting the last wolf carcass he’d set aside for Elain. The pelt could be used to fashion a coat or a blanket if she was so inclined, and he could show her how to cure and dry the meat so she wasn’t dependent on pies every night. Or he could just do it for her—keep himself useful, he rationalized. If only to make sure she stayed safe through the winter.

It certainly had nothing to do with her big, brown eyes or the way she smiled at him. He definitely didn’t want to kiss her. And he certainly didn’t wish her plan to marry Beron’s youngest son was a possibility. No, she was merely his responsibility. He’d forced her out here, the least he could do was help keep her alive. 

Lucien found Elain back in the kitchen, a strawberry pie cooling on the windowsill. When she saw him approaching, rather than frown, Elain offered him a beaming smile that robbed him of breath.

“I was wondering if you’d come tonight,” she said, rushing just out of view to unlock the front door. Lucien stepped inside, wiping his muddy boots on the little mat just inside. Light flooded the once dark space, revealing a rather lovely cottage. Elain had done something with it—rather than just cleaning it, she’d begun to decorate, too. Where had she found so many flowers, he wondered?

Jurian had clearly come by, given a squashy, stained yellow couch now sat in the once empty living and dining room, and a braided rug brightened the room. Firewood had been ignited, crackling merrily alongside a host of candles in chipped glass jars. 

Shelves had been carefully nailed into walls that were no longer yellow from dust and time, but a rosy pink decorated with hand painted daisies. Lucien counted little books, the spines worn and cracked, along with more candles and jars of dried herbs and spices.

“I made a stew,” Elain told him proudly, pulling at the white strings of the apron tied around her yellow and red dress. She’d twisted her hair off to one shoulder, the curls hanging sweetly against her neck. The heat of the kitchen made her face seem rosier, pretty against her fair skin. “I need you to taste it.”

Lucien offered her a smile. “Alright, princess.” Not admitting that he’d taste anything she offered him. She offered him space to set down his pelt, folding it carefully on a little coffee table in the middle of the living room.

“If you give this to Jurian, he could have it made into a coat for you. A blanket, too,” he added, thinking she might need something warm to sleep beneath when winter arrived. “After dinner, I want to show you how to preserve some of this meat.”

“That would be wonderful,” she agreed, ladling thick stew into rough metal bowls. “I’ve been making good use of the deer you brought me.”

Who knew it would take less than a month for Elain to fully acclimate to her new life? Lucien had been around a lot of noble women in his life, and didn’t think any of them would have accepted their new circumstances half so gracefully. There was an innate optimism to Elain Archeron that he admired. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he joked, eyeing that stew. She’d made a couple meals for him, none of which had been excellent. And Lucien was in no position to complain, nor willing to pay Elain anything but compliments.

She saw right through him, regardless. Elain always knew if he truly loved something she made or if he was eating it because Lucien had learned not to turn down a free meal. He set the cuts aside, washed his hands before she could scold him again, and made his way back to her.

Like always, Elain waited for him to take the first bite. Lucien coughed without meaning to, pepper lodged in his nose. Elain sighed, exasperated.

“I knew it was too much,” she complained, spoon clattering to the table.

“No!” Lucien choked. It was a little much, but certainly not as bad as the salt debacle from three days earlier. “It’s good, I was just unprepared for—”

“I thought cooking was going to get easier,” she said, elbows on the table. “But I keep making mistakes.”

“You’re still trying, though,” Lucien reminded her. He plucked a piece of deer meat from the stew, letting her watch it fall apart in his hand. “And your meat is much better than it was the first time you cooked it.”

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. The recipes Jurian brought me don’t say how much seasoning to use, so I’m just…guessing.”

“You’re going to figure it out,” Lucien assured her, taking another bite for good measure. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re learning.”

“Other people know how to do this as children. I feel…” she ran a hand down her pretty face. “Spoiled, I guess.”

“Trust me. You’re far from spoiled, Elain. You’re learning, and it takes time. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Thank you, Lucien,” she said earnestly, eyes big and wide again. Lucien choked on his next bite for an entirely new reason. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand she stop looking at him like that, with those trusting eyes. And Lucien thought he might die if she took his words to heart and never looked at him again like she was right then.

Like she trusted him.

Like he was worth something.

Special, even.

Lucien did duck his head so she wouldn’t see how embarrassed he was. “Eat your dinner, Elain. I want pie.”

“It’s strawberry,” she said with obvious pleasure. “And I’ve made you a loaf of bread.”

“You spoil me,” Lucien said with undisguised delight. Bread and pie? Did she want a husband? Because at this rate, Lucien would find himself marching back in to Avalon declaring himself a prince and Elain his wife. Perhaps Beron would shield them both in exchange for the secrets of Ellesmere.

Lucien didn’t think he wanted to go back to that place, that life. He was content in the woods and some part of him wished she could find that same peace, too. Maybe if he showed her where he lived up in the trees, or promised her a more spacious home with room—what was wrong with him? He barely knew her and more importantly, she was not for him.

He still worked for her stepmother, after all. 

“Okay,” Elain said, taking her first bite. “It is a little spicy.”

“It’s good,” Lucien retorted, spooning the rest of his food into his mouth. “Stop being so hard on yourself.”

She smiled, cheeks pink. “So…huntsman. Are you ever going to tell me how you ended up here?”

Lucien stood, making his way back to her pot to ladle himself more of the peppery stew. “There’s not much to tell. Your father needed someone to keep poachers out of the forest and I needed a job.”

“Do you like it?”

Lucien plopped back in his chair. “I liked it when I was working for you father. Poachers take too much without consideration of the forest, of the life that already exists here. I don’t like…”

Being asked to murder innocent women. 

“Right,” she said, drawing a deep breath. “Have you seen him lately?”

“Actually, I saw him this morning. He seemed clear. I—” Lucien looked at Elain, holding her gaze. “Is he sick?”

“He just never recovered from my mothers death,” Elain told him sadly. “It seemed like he was getting a little better—he even arranged the marriage to my stepmother. I knew he wasn’t happy about it, but he seemed…I don’t know. Hopeful, I guess? Like this would rescue us? And right after he just fell back into his sadness.”

That was exactly what Lucien wanted to know. He believed there was grief there, and it wasn’t such a stretch for him to imagine that his new wife played some role in keeping him lost in a fog. Docile, but alive. She needed him, though to what purpose, Lucien could only guess. 

“Any word of Nesta?”

“No,” he said quickly. “If she was dead, though, we would know.”

As it stood, no news was still good news. After all, Elain hadn’t been announced dead yet, and Lucien knew that if Nesta was dead, Amarantha would be spinning some narrative, too. Maybe not that the future queen was dead, but perhaps she, too, had run away or was otherwise occupied but would return home just as soon as she could.

If Amarantha had nothing to say about Nesta, it meant that Nesta was still alive and capable of challenging any narrative proposed. Lucien was willing to bet on the Archeron sisters. Though they might be sheltered princesses, there was a tenacity to them that seemed to run deep. And if Nesta was anything like Elain, she’d fight like hell. Lucien was certain of that. 

Lucien stayed for more than his fair share of pie, teasing Elain until there was no good reason to stay. He managed to buy himself another hour when he insisted he help with the dishes. Elain talked about everything. Her plans for the front garden so when spring came, Jurian could plant flowers if he wanted (Lucien didn’t dare tell her Jurian would never), and how she thought she could grow vegetables indoors so long as it wasn’t too gloomy. 

Lucien just liked the sound of her voice. He liked her wit and how funny she was, like her little observations. And more than anything, he liked how Elain merely adapted. He’d spent a solid six months feeling sorry for himself when he’d had to flee, but Elain merely made the best of it. No complaints, no feet stomping or tears. Just the sunny belief that things would work out because they must. 

She walked him to the door. “Thank you for all this, Lucien.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. And then, impulsively, he lowered his face swiftly to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “Be safe, princess.”

She didn’t move. “And you, huntsman.”

Lucien practically floated home.

#elucien

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Pre-Flight Rituals

What habits do your favorite pilots have before taking to the skies? What rituals do they do to calm themselves?

Thanks to @survivethefeels for the suggestion!!

As a little reminder, my requests are open!

Billy “Fitz” Avalone: Billy has a WHOLE ritual he goes through. After donning his flight suit, he has to put on his LEFT boot first, and then he has to wrap the laces twice around his ankle after getting his boots tied. He swears that this makes him pay better attention, something about the pressure. Callie just thinks he has undiagnosed OCD.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw: He was raised Catholic, but hasn’t really been a part of the faith for years; his belief in a higher being has shifted a lot over the years. He does pray before going up- a silent prayer to his father, Nick, to look over him. Aside from that, he knocks on the dash three times. Though, recently, he's gotten into the habit of whispering "Talk to me, dad." I wonder why.

Brigham “Harvard” Lennox: He has to pop his knuckles twice before taking off. And he does. No one knows how he can do it but he DOES. The truth? He’s double jointed in both hands, and it helps release the pressure in his joints to pop them. Changing altitudes has caused for his fingers to get sore.

Callie “Halo” Shen: She has a necklace she wears beneath her uniform at all times- a gift from her mother when she became a lieutenant. She has to make the clasp touch the little “C” twice- once on either side. It reminds her of when her mother would tap her head twice on her way out the door. It feels like her mother is with her- her own personal little co-pilot.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin: He acts like he doesn’t have any sort of ritual, but that’s a big ol’ lie. He sits in silence before going out- it doesn’t matter where, just someplace where he can be alone for a moment. He doesn’t pray- he hasn’t prayed in years, not since leaving home when he was eighteen. But he does talk to himself- which sounds weird, I know. He whispers the Courage section of the Naval Core Values: “Courage is the value that gives me the moral and mental strength to do what is right, with confidence and resolution, even in the face of temptation or adversity.” Sometimes, he’ll whisper it more than once. It helps him calm down and get his head focused.

Javy “Coyote” Machado: He talks to an old photograph of his parents that he keeps in his flight jacket. Tells them the details of the flight, explains what he’ll be doing, what role he’ll be playing this time. He promised his mother he’d come home- and he’s doing his best to honor that promise.

Logan “Yale” Lee: He taps out TAPS. Sort of morbid, he knows, but having played trumpet (and the bugle, once) in the past, it’s the one song he knows by heart. He also tries to eat a mint! Fully believes in the whole “mint makes you focus better”. It also calms his tummy because he gets a nervous tummy sometimes.

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia: He taps his right boot against one of the wheels of his jet four times. It doesn’t matter the wheel, but he has to tap. He also walks the length of the jet- he doesn’t touch, but he looks. He’s a surprisingly detail-oriented person, so he likes to look and make sure everything looks right.

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace: She’s hands on; she has to walk the length of her jet, touching everything- making sure it feels right under her hands. If it doesn’t, she’ll have one of the engineers come over and fix whatever small problem it is. She also taps her name on the side of the jet twice. She’s a confident pilot; once she sits down, her mind is clear. She feels at home in the skies.

Neil “Omaha” Vikander: He likes to stand on the edge of the flight deck and look down at the water. It clears his mind, and allows for him to focus. If he’s doing a takeoff from land, he stands off to the side and stares at the sky.

Reuben “Payback” Fitch: He sings! It doesn’t matter the song- whatever comes to mind first, he starts singing. Music has always had a calming effect on him, and to just be able to sing a few lyrics before climbing in helps him. His favorite one to sing, though, is Rock with You.

Robert “Bob” Floyd: He does helmet checks- goes through and makes sure that his fleet mates helmets are okay. No cracks, no tears. He isn’t sure why, really. He also, like Phoenix, taps his name twice.

BONUS Pete “Maverick” Mitchell: “Talk to me, Goose.”

#top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun headcanons #billy fritz avalone #bradley rooster bradshaw #brigham harvard lennox #callie halo shen #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #logan yale lee #mickey fanboy garcia #natasha phoenix trace #reuben payback fitch #robert bob floyd #neil omaha vikander #pete maverick mitchell #kanon's headcanons

[melonisopod]

End of a Dream (oneshot)

Characters: Oberon Vortigern, Blanca, original character

Setting: Lostbelt 6 Avalon le Fae

Summary: After the Autumn Woods' destruction, Myra reaches out to comfort her friend.

In the wake of Tam Lin Gawain’s onslaught, there was only ash. The smoldering ruins of the Autumn Woods billowed with smoke. Despite the best efforts of Artoria and Myra to help search, not a single survivor was found.

With nothing left to save, the group had quietly departed. Everyone had turned in for the night, save for three - the Child of Prophecy and the Chaldea Master were about to see off their friend, as he was about to slip out under the cover of night.

“You wanna talk to him?” Myra aksed Artoria.

“I think you’d be better at that than me,” Artoria said. 

Getting up, Myra could see him a ways off, wearing his traveling attire, his hair as silvery as the moonlight in the darkness. He hadn’t seemed to notice her following him, so she quickened her pace a bit and caught up to him, catching him by the wrist.

“Can’t sleep again?” Oberon asked teasingly, but was suddenly cut off when, without warning, Myra threw her arms around him in a hug. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you,” she said, “Oberon, I wish we’d gotten there sooner. I wish we could have saved the Welsh Fairies,”

In the soft light of the moon, he could see her dark eyes glistening with tears. 

“Oh, is that what this is?” Oberon asked innocently, “Don’t worry yourself sick about me, alright, Myra? It was my own fault, and it’s a burden I have to bear,”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this all alone,” Myra said, “I’m your friend, and I care about you too. If you ever want to come to me with anything…well, I’m not really sure what I can offer. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,”

Oberon looked at her for a moment with an unreadable expression, his eyes almost seeming to glow a bit in the darkness. Then, he answered her with a rueful smile.

“What is there left to say?” he shrugged, “What’s done is done, and I was never going to be strong enough to save them. All I can do is move on,”

“You’re lying,” Myra said, “I know you must be heartbroken over this. You don’t have to hide that from me,”

“That’s just the kind of person you are, isn’t it?” he sighed, almost sounding exasperated, “Listen, Myra, you’re a good friend for reaching out to me, but I don’t want you getting choked up on my behalf. You’ve got your mission to worry about, no need to concern yourself with me,” He smiled “And now that the Welsh Fairies are gone, I can devote all my attention to helping you and the Child of Prophecy! That’s good for you, isn’t it?”

“There’s no way you’re happy about any of this,” Myra said sadly, “but you’ll just keep turning me away, won’t you? Fine, I get it, trust me, I do. I’m exactly like you are, burying my feelings so no one has to see how weak I really am,”

“Nah, it isn’t like that, Myra,” Oberon said, “I’m just handling it in my own way. Now go on, get back to the camp and get some rest, I’ll go and gather intelligence,”

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone,” Myra said, “And I didn’t mean to call you weak. I’m sorry,”

“Hahaha, I don’t take it personally, Myra!” Oberon chuckled while he playfully patted her on the shoulder, “You meant well, didn’t you? You’re such a good friend, I’m lucky to have you!”

“If you ever need a place to stay,” Myra said, “You can come to Chaldea,”

“Okay, I’ll see about it,” Oberon said, “Goodnight, Myra. Go and get some sleep, you’ve got an early day ahead of you!”

“Take care, Oberon,” Myra said, before finally running off back to the rest of the group.

Once she was finally out of sight, Oberon rubbed his temples in frustration, letting out a heavy sigh that sounded more like a low growl.

“That’s exactly what I hate about you,” he said to himself, “As if you had any right to console me, when your end goal was always to destroy Fairy Britain. Did I ask for your pity?”

In truth, he couldn’t help but feel comforted by the girl’s compassion for him, and this is what disgusted him more than anything else. She was supposed to be his enemy, (not that she knew that), and yet, here she was, offering a shoulder to cry on like they’d been long-time friends.

It was only a testament to how stupid she really was, how easily fooled she was. It’d be all the more satisfying once he’d revealed to her the truth.

He made his way back to what remained of the Autumn Woods, his hair as black as the burnt husks of the trees that were now reduced to ashes. He searched the rubble for the bodies of the Welsh Fairies, finding the wings that were the least damaged, the least charred from the smoke.

He could not save them, and he never made any pretense that he ever could, and yet, they accepted him, made him their king, gave him a place and a home. Though he detested being Oberon the Fairy King, he could never bring himself to hate the Welsh Fairies, even if they repulsed him.

They had given him all they had, and yet, he couldn’t even save them. 

But no matter. He would make sure all who had rejected his subjects would suffer unimaginably. Especially that Fang Clan woman. For her, he’d only reserve the most horrific torment. 

But for now, he’d bide his time. He gathered together the delicate wings, hairs, bits of broken limbs, carefully weaving them together into one massive cloak. 

He would carry their bodies as his regalia, always keeping a piece of them with himself. Even with his kingdom in ruins, he was still the Fairy King. 

Wrapping it about his shoulders, he saw that it was a bit bigger than he’d anticipated, but he didn’t mind. It just served to make his form appear bigger as well, which suited him fine.

His attention now turned to the large white moth who watched him with her unblinking black eyes. His shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry, Blanca,” he said regretfully, “Well, I never did promise I would be of any use to your people, did I? It’s your own fault for putting your hopes in me,”

The Princess of the Welsh Fairies saw through him, as she always did. She fluttered around him and landed on his shoulder, taking a moment to examine his cloak with her antennae before crawling just under his chin, brushing her fuzzy body against him before finally stopping with her head rested over his other shoulder. 

This was her way of consoling him, of forgiving him. She never faulted him for his weakness, as he never faulted his subjects for theirs. 

“Do you like it, Blanca?” he asked her, reaching a hand up to pet her soft body. “How miserable, that even an insect would pity me! That stupid girl was right - I really am weak,”

He stood amid the ashes under the glow of the moon, holding his princess in his arms.

#my writing #fanfic #oneshot #fgo #oberon vortigern #original character #i wrote this to cope with my feelings #idk why but it helped me a lot

[sso-montana]

Catherine lives! AU

Ok so I finally got around to write this thing so here you all go, more under the cut bc it kinda got long

Also if you want me to make a post specifically abt how Catherine being alive would impact the general story tell me and I'll make one for that, too ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Catherine always knew Montana was like her, even when she was little. At first she was hesitant to let Justin play and spend time with her but after seeing how good they got along and remembering how she never really had friends she decided to let them be.

Fast forward to Montana coming back to Jorvik and Catherine's motherly instincts I immediately kick in. Yes, she hasn't seen this girl in almost 8 years and she's grown up and changed so much. The Montana before her is so quiet and almost desperately tries to She's reminded so much of her younger self, of how lost and alone she felt and decides that she won't let this happen to another girl. Once Montana realizes she posses magic abilities and starts training with Ydris and a WIP oc of mine (it's a bit messy right now kay?) Catherine sits her down and tells her about how they're the same. Obviously Montana asks her for help and guidance, which Catherine immediately shuts down. Montanas initial reaction of anger and confusion leaves after Catherine explains that she no longer associates herself with magic, hasn't used it in years and never was that good at it. What Catherine can do though is make Montana aware of the dangers of magic, to tell her about her own mistakes, the Keepers and the Sisterhood.

And there are times when Catherine is almost scared of Montana. Because Montana isn't like her, isn't afraid to loose control. She's so full of anger and frustration and sadness right after loosing her parents and that paired with uncontrolled power is a dangerous combination. Montana isn't hurting others on accident but rather manages to keep injuring herself while learning. There are so many times she comes back to the stables and Justin and Montana sit in the saddle chamber putting creams on her arms and wrapping bandages around her hands because she burnt or cut herself. She's stubborn and impulsive and acts without thinking things through and clearly struggles with magic.

And yet she makes up for it with her sheer determination to learn, to master this power which allows her to protect what's left and Catherine can't help but be amazed at this young girl. They're the same and yet so completely different.

Of course as soon as Justin starts to get more involved with all the magic stuff Catherine is worried about him. It's not like she wasn't worried about Montana to begin with, but Justin is her son, her baby. It's the first time the two of them ever had a big argument since Justin never really fought with his mom. Even after they talk it out she's not happy with him joining Montana on trips. But after seeing his determination and desire to protect Mo, to be able to return the favor because she always protects them and he desperately wants to keep her safe, to make her understand she's not alone and doesn't have to do everything by herself, even if at times it scares him, Catherine gives in. At least she has the comfort of knowing they're looking out for each other.

Catherine isn't unfriendly to the soul riders either, quite the opposite. It would be easy to be angry at them, to hold grudges and not want a single thing to do with it, but that's not like her. Catherine isn't a hateful person. She wouldn't be angry at kids for something that their predecessors did. Elizabeth and Avalon are a different story of course, but the girls never did anything bad, she doesn't hold any grudges against them specifically. They're just kids, kids who have way too many things that they have to shoulder than anyone that age should. Those girls aren't even in their 20s and are being told the fate of Jorvik and perhaps the whole world is depending on them. That's fucked up, like, severely fucked up.

So Catherine always tells them that no matter what, they can always come to Moorland Stables. Even if she can't do much in regard to guiding them on their Soul Rider journey, she can make sure there is a place for them where they're safe.

It does hurt to see that just like her Montana feels like she doesn't fit in, doesn't belong with them. To see that cycle repeat itself. Yet Montana doesn't seem to be as bothered by it as she had been, which isn't exactly better if you hear the 'I wasn't really able to make friends after we left Jorvik, so it's nothing new' explanation.

I do think she would stay away from Valedale and the Keepers and Elizabeth as far as she can. The only time I can see her showing up again is after Justin got imprisoned and for the first time in her life Catherine is full on willing to throw hands with someone. (She doesn't. She doesn't stop Montana from doing it for her either.)

TL;DR

Catherine is basically treating Montana as her own daughter and being a great at it. She doesn't hold grudges against the current Soul Riders bc they're just kids. The Keepers can go fuck themselves she ain't dealing with them. When are Montana and Justin getting married she'd love to have her as her daughter in law

#sso #ssoblr #star stable online #mo talks lore #Catherine lives! AU #I actually really like this AU it's becoming one of my favorites lol #if you have more specific question feel free to ask them!!! #I love getting to info dump (￣▽￣)

[shellyseashell]

PRINCESS ELAINE PENDRAGON OF CAMELOT

universe: descendants

name & meaning: elaine is the name of various arthurian characters, but she’s not based off any of them, or any other arthurian character, because this is descendants, and the existence of artie already ignores arthurian lore. so i do what i want.

age & birthday: she doesn’t know her exact birthday, but she assigned herself July 17, and she’s probably 15-16 (same age as ben)

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: haven’t figured it out yet, but she’s not straight

height: 5’7

face claim: mackenzie foy

powers & species: she’s a fay, and her powers include: teleportation, shapeshifting, spells/runes, and seeing.

mbti: enfp, the campaigner

background: she was born to two fay from avalon, but didn’t grow up there. when she four, when near the border of camelot and auradon (camelot is not part of auradon, because i refuse to believe every fairy tale land is part of it), her parents were killed by anti-magic extremists. she was later rescued by merlin who was in the area for narrative reasons, i guess, who then took her back to caerleon (where arthur holds court). originally, she was going to be sent to avalon to live and train her magic, but in that time she grew attached to arthur, and arthur grew attached to her, so she was adopted instead. however, she’s not the heir — artie, who i renamed loholt, is, because he’s related to arthur by blood, and was already born when she was adopted.

when she was 14, she was sent to auradon as a sort of peace offering? basically, if she apprentices under fairy godmother, and does well, camelot will be left alone. this is not the first, or last, time they have done this.

residence: caerleon or avalon

affiliation: camelot and the round table

weapons & fighting style: uses a sword, and also her magic

hobbies: reading, sword fighting, riding

disney song i associate with them: let me make you proud from tangled the series

miscellaneous:

- wears only tunics and trousers, mostly to spite auradon, who are far more modern than camelot

- i’m still figuring out how i want to work arthuriana into descendants so things are subject to change

- talks a lot, and talks quickly

- holds herself with a lot of confidence, but is actually anxious all the time

- she has nightmares that double as prophetic visions, and they’re often very distressing. she has no idea how to control them, so she usually just doesn’t sleep.

- technically her roommate is jordan, but jordan lives in her lamp, so she has the room to herself. in one of my aus, she rooms with claudine.

- committing treason against auradon is on her bucket list

- her and maddy would be besties if they met

- her current best friend is her cousin, gawain. i’m still figuring out how to disney-ify him, so all i’ll say is they never get away with anything ever.

- struggles to manage her temper, especially in auradon, but she does her best

- i’m not sure if this actually fits in with auradon, but given my other headcanons for how they work, i think it fits. to keep her in line, fairy godmother makes her wear iron when she gets too defiant, or is failing her lessons. which is yknow, deadly for fay. audrey and jane figured out how to remove it for her, so as long as fg never finds out, she’s fine.

- fairy godmother also tries to train her to do magic she literally cannot do, because they’re too different types of fay

- she tries to present herself as being perfect, as being less than perfect could mean war. she is failing. miserably.

- very, very competitive

- had a hard time controlling her magic growing up, but now only struggles with her visions

- she idolizes her father, which leads to a lot disappointment, and is the root of some of her perfectionism

- really likes birds, except for archimedes. she thinks he’s annoying.

#disney descendants #descendants oc #oc: elaine of camelot #I have some one shots for her I want to write #and also feel free to ask about her! I want to talk about her #I don’t think the iron thing lines up with canon #but in my headcanons auradon is much worse and much darker #and canon is questionable and inconsistent anyway #so. yay.

[sadisticsongbird]

trust is a fragile thing ~ tyler galpin 

parte seis

warnings: creepy tyler, swearing i think

word count: 4k

To say that you were shaken up after school was an understatement. You had no idea what had happened in the office during last class, but you insisted that something was in the school lunch. You had never done drugs before, but you guessed that it felt something similar. The world spinning around you and quite obviously seeing things. Plants don’t just die within a split second, do they? 

Avalon already was sitting in a booth when you pulled up to the coffee shop. You instructed your driver to sit tight and wait. It wouldn’t be long. After much pleading because he was given instruction to bring you back to Nevermore straight away, however he happily obliged for an extra five dollar bill. Some people really could be bought. 

There were barely any people in there except for a small group of old ladies that huddled towards the back of the shop, opposite of where Ava was sitting. When you walked up behind her, she was already prepared to begin work. Papers were scattered all over the table already and an empty mug on the corner. 

“I hope I didn’t leave you alone too long.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I’ve learned to be alone all my life. I’ve got ways to keep myself busy.” 

You giggled, stopping yourself right away in case it wasn’t meant to be funny. “You want some coffee?” she asked, offering you some money. 

“I got it, don’t worry.” Maybe you were seeing things because you were tired. Caffeine is maybe what you needed in your system. You looked at the chalkboards with coffee orders written all over them. “Have any recommendations?”

“Nada. But you seem like a caramel macchiato kinda girl.”

“Are you calling me basic?” You feigned a gasp. 

“No, no!” She began to freak out slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just don’t know you all that well and I-” “RELAX! I’m kidding. I actually am a caramel macchiato kinda girl.” You threw your bag into the booth across from her and walked up to the counter. You ordered your beverage before making your way back to the table. Ava looked like she had a couple ideas already written down and roughly sketched out. 

“Okay, so I have a few ideas worked out that circle the theme of classic literature like Strauss wanted. A few of my favorites are The Crucible, MacBeth, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Though I suspect that that last one might be done a few times.”

To Kill a Mockingbird seemed basic and Shakespere wasn’t your thing. You had no idea what the Crucible was, but it sounded interesting. Ava seemed to see you eyeing the sketch she had drawn out for that one. 

“Good choice. I think that it’ll make for an…interesting topic.” She stopped herself for a moment “Have you ever read it?” She raised her eyebrows at you.

“Never. But something new doesn’t hurt, right?”

She smiled at your response. “It’s a history book. I’m kind of a history nerd. Feels like my spirits lived through centuries.” She paused. “Through books, of course.”

Your phone rang, taking your attention away from your work. Your dad’s picture sprung up, motivating you to answer right away. He wasn’t one to wait. 

“Dad?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“I texted you,” you replied in annoyance. “I’m in town, working on school work.”

“I need you back at the school. It’s urgent.” 

Without another word, he hung up. Your father was like that, too busy with his job to care about anything that you had to do. If he needed you, you came. You prevented yourself from having to connect with him too often. It wasn’t pretty if you disobeyed something he asked. He didn’t not love you, he just wasn’t one to use emotions. It had been like that since your mother left. 

“I take it, it's time to go…” she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.  

You shrugged, taking your bag with you as you scooted out of the bench. “When Dad calls…”

“...you gotta answer,” she interrupted. “I get it. We can work on this later. You’re new too. I’m sure Strauss will be lenient.”

You smiled, taking your to-go cup of coffee with you. “Meet here again tomorrow, maybe? It doesn’t seem too busy?”

“Hasn’t been as long as I’ve lived here. It’s got a nice aesthetic, but some dude used to work here. Ended up being an outcast of some sort and jailed up. Jericho didn’t like the idea of an outcast working here, so it’s not a booming spot anymore.”

You waved the girl goodbye and she focused back on her work. Making your way out of the shop, you walked toward the car that had your driver. He was a nice guy, made small talk on the way to the coffee shop after school. Your father probably had good money going to this guy to keep a teenager entertained all afternoon. 

Tyler barely remembered the rest of the afternoon, only going in and out of sleep in the nurse's office. After his first…session, he felt like his entire body was on fire. He hadn’t had a mutation in a while and it already made his bones ache without the electroshock therapy he received along with it. He briefly remembered being escorted out of the building, only a blanket covering his figure. There were no students around, thank God, but it still made him feel vulnerable. He went in and out of consciousness as they practically dragged him back to the school. Someone found him another uniform, which he assumed he’d go through plenty of. He was really weak, but refused help to get dressed. Guards stood outside of the bathroom while he slowly put clothes back on. It was unusual that clothing gave him the sense of security that it did, but it was better than being naked. 

Now, he was currently laying on a bed. The room was quiet, making it hard for him to decipher if the ringing noise was because of the silence or the pounding in his head. Tyler was sure that he wasn’t actually alone, however. Even though a new collar had been placed right around his neck, there were probably guards placed right outside the room in case something were to happen. The silence was kind of nice. All he had heard the past few days were the talking of scientists and soldiers ordering him around and students almost hissing at him left and right. Peace was what he needed. As much as he hated the white room, at least it was quiet. It was easier to sort his thoughts out. 

Tyler had barely slept ten minutes when he heard a clamor outside of the doors. He shot out of bed immediately. His head spun around looking for a place to hide. It wasn’t unusual that this was his first instinct. Hiding was a skill that he had learned to master today. While all he wanted was to rub his presence in Wednesday’s face, with the collar he was basically defenseless, and he was sure that the pigtailed girl wouldn’t hesitate at killing him at any moment. He looked around the room for a place that would conceal him and the best thing that he could find was the curtains that separated the beds in the infirmary. He maneuvered the curtain to cover his body as he crouched down amongst a wheelchair and crutches. It wasn’t necessarily fear that motivated his movements, just uncertainty. He heard a small voice talking followed by the twist of the doorknob. Praying it was the nurse, he braced himself for someone’s entrance. The sounds of footsteps crowded his ears and he swore that he could feel them as they got closer. 

“Tyler, I know you’re behind the curtain,” she muttered. 

He gulped, sucking in a shaky breath. His hand came out from behind the curtain, to allow him to see the rest of the room. The girl he had been dreading was standing, arms crossed at the foot of the bed he was just in. “W-wednesday.”

Wednesday didn’t smile very often, but he swore that he saw a smirk break out across her face at his reaction. “Where’d the tough, cocky kid go? They beat it out of you?”

He looked away from her dark eyes that bore into him. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he was broken. He was angry at her for the way that things ended last year. The hyde hated the Addams standing in front of him and wanted to beat the shit out of her, but Tyler honestly couldn’t give a crap. With no master controlling his actions, he just felt lost. In himself, in the world. 

“Listen good and listen well. I’m watching you. If you so much as lay a hand on anyone, you’ll be dead faster than you can say please.”

His head remained looking down. Was he truly broken or just posing, making her think that he had possibly changed. “I-I’m not in the mood, Wednesday. Just g-get out.”

“I mean it. I don’t trust you. I saw you chatting with the normie this morning. Stay away from her. Don’t go preying on the most vulnerable like the little monster we both know you are.”

Wednesday wasn’t one to be cocky with her words out loud. If she wanted to make a statement, she’d do it in a less up front way. But Tyler angered her like no other. He managed to evade her with lies and broke her down. Quite honestly, she was glad she found out about Tyler’s true nature when she did. Had it gone any further, who knew how many pieces she’d be in. The only thing she wished was different is that she hadn’t kissed him beforehand. 

Tyler didn’t move from his spot in the corner. It made him seem pathetic, weak, all things that the hyde didn’t like feeling. He took a deep breath and released it repeatedly while clenching and unclenching his fists. He’d had plenty of anxiety attacks before finding out about being a hyde. It was similar to one, just a hundred times harder. It felt like there was a bubble of emotions ready to explode from his chest, sucking the energy out of him. He was glad that it was working, but he wished that there was an easier way. He could still feel the girl’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up, afraid of his reaction if he met her gaze. 

All she did was scoff before walking out of the room. It was hard to see her, to be here with the outcasts. He’d grown up around normal people his entire life, psychopaths aside. It was hard enough being the new kid but one that had tried to kill them and almost succeeded was a different story. Talking to Wednesday again made it real. And fuck it hurt. 

If it weren’t for the warm drops he felt on his hand, he wouldn’t have even noticed he was crying. He didn’t do it often anymore, knowing that it wouldn’t do him any good. He stepped his way over the mess that he made and pushed the sheet away back against the wall. He really didn’t want to sleep again, but he was terribly sore. Wednesday had probably knocked out the guards, but he truly didn’t want to leave. As silly as it sounded, the nurse was probably the safest place to be right now. 

Wednesday Addams was always an enigma to him, even when they first met. If she hadn’t been part of Laurel’s plan, he very well might have been friends with her, even more. There were times that he wished he could’ve gotten past that. That his strength, or Wednesday’s for that matter, would have been enough to tear him for Laurel’s grasp. But it wasn’t. And all that was left was the overwhelming urge of the hyde to rip her throat out. 

“How many times do I have to explain to you that I need you here?” “Countless times, Dad.” You rolled your eyes with the response. 

You were currently sitting in his office, legs and arms crossed. Yes, your father had lectured you about needing to be at Nevermore immediately after school, but it was school related so you didn’t see the issue. And you had texted him, like he asked if there were scheduling changes or danger. You weren’t exactly sure why he needed you here besides the need to have eyes on you 24/7. While living here was required, spending all of your time roaming the halls was not. You were a week short of 18 and deserved to be treated like an adult, not a child. 

“Cut the sass. I need to know where you are at all times. I want to trust you. Really I do. But I can’t just let you roam free. Especially when-”

“What, Dad? A monster on the loose again? I thought that was something you were supposed to be preventing.” You hadn’t realized that you were raising your voice. Now standing, your father gawked at you in surprise. You never talked to him in this way. 

“I won’t take this kind of response, young lady. Yes, we are here to prevent more attacks and YOU will have a part in helping.”

The features on your face softened, trying your best to conceal surprise. “Me? What can I do?”

He sighed, standing up from his position behind the desk. He walked himself around to come sit on the front. Your father had always claimed that he didn’t want to seem like a principal, just a supervisor, but the way that he was sitting on the front of the desk with his hands folded and his legs crossed made you rethink that statement. Your father was a man that radiated authority. His presence alone made a room go dead silent. You never knew if he used it intentionally or if that was just the way he was. Regardless, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“We have had a new student arrive recently. He has…special needs and needs supervision close to constantly. While we have guards on him during the school day, he needs someone to watch him when the afternoon allows for students to roam free.”

“Okay, and why me? There are other students plenty capable of handling a new student? I didn't come here to be a babysitter. I came here to get a new start.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know you’re frustrated. And you’re right. The students are plenty of students capable of handling him. That’s exactly why I’ve chosen you. You don’t have a way to…Well, let’s just say it’s safer.” You let out soft scoff, bending down to pick up your bag that was laying against the chair. You threw it over your shoulder and spun to face the door. “Y/N…” 

You stopped in your tracks, not bothering to turn around. You were sure that the new student was the one that you spied on in the hall the other night. Even though you got a good look at him this morning, the collar around his neck scared you a little bit. He was cute, sure, but was he safe? “I’m listening…”

“This,” he began, “is a remote that controls a shock collar placed around the students neck.” He walked over to you. You wouldn’t move from your spot, so he came to you. He held out a small black controller smaller than a cellphone. There were only two buttons on the remote, but you wouldn’t press either one until you knew what they did. “His name is Tyler Galpin. He went to Jericho High until the end of last year. He’s in the infirmary right now. Hopefully resting. I want you to meet him.” He was ready to turn around and lead the way. But he stopped, looking at you with certainty. “Under no circumstances do you tell him that you have the controller. Understand?”

He tilted his head down towards you, looking at you in question. You shook your head in response. He didn’t say anything else before turning around. It startled you slightly, his quick movement, but you were soon right back on his heels. So that was the boy’s name. Tyler. It rolled off the tongue really well. And it fit him. You didn’t know why, but it did. 

The nurse was a lot closer to your father’s office than you thought. It makes it easier to get a fix up in case your roommate were to use one of those MANY weapons she has hidden in her trunk. Your father was slightly ahead of you, turning the corner before you. That was when you heard the yelling.

“What is going on? Is he still in there?”

“Everything’s okay, Sergeant. He’s still there. A few of the guards were knocked out.” 

“Well I can see that!” 

A few men were on the floor, ice packs on their heads, eyes checked. The hall seemed like chaos and your father wouldn’t stand for it. He was all about order and this little mishap would definitely cause issues for some people. 

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just go in and let me deal with this.”

He practically shoved you into the room. It was nice, spacious. The nurses wore old uniforms you would see in the eighties, just another touch of Nevermore. The beds were spread out, a curtain separating each one. There was a small section of the space dedicated to chairs and cabinets, no doubt containing medicine. Taking your things off of you and setting what little coffee you have left down, you looked around the beds to see if someone was in here. You spotted a figure laying on a bed in the middle of the room, one leg up, the other down. Moving closer, you spotted his shoes placed beside the bed on the floor. There was a cloth placed on his forehead, one that his hands were holding down. You only hoped that he wasn’t in pain. But how could you know with the shock collar around his neck? It looked big from where you stood, bigger than it seemed when you saw it up close this morning. But you weren’t supposed to remember that. He wasn’t supposed to know that you had the remote and even what it was, though you suspected if he caught you looking, he’d tell you. Though the boy didn’t exactly look like he was sleeping, his eyes were closed and you really didn’t want to disturb him. You wondered why your father wanted you to really meet him. Maybe proximity was the key with the shocker, but then why entrust you with it? If he was dangerous, why would your father risk putting you in the same room as him? You began to take a few steps back and ensuring not to make a sound. 

“I know you’re here,” you heard quietly from the other side of the room, making you halt any movement. He opened his eyes briefly, letting them adjust to the light before sitting up completely. The cloth on his forehead fell to the pillow he had just been laying on, but didn’t startle him one bit. “If I’m sleeping, people tend to leave me alone.” He sat with his knees up and arms resting on his knees. If you both had never met before, you would have judged him for looking you up and down. 

“We met earlier today,” you muttered, moving closer to him. “I’m Y/N. I don’t think I said my name this morning.” 

He retracted, leaning back slightly. Did he not want to shake your hand? Did he find you disgusting? How could he? He barely knew you…

“Don’t take it personally. I just don’t wanna hurt you. Tyler…Galpin.”

“Hurt me?” You crossed your arms. He didn’t look dangerous like your father made him seem but that fact that he himself feared injuring you was enough to make you wary. The controller felt heavier the longer you held on to it. 

“It doesn’t matter…W-what are you doing here?”

“My dad brought me here, but then guards were knocked out in the hall…He’s dealing with it out there.” “That would be due to an old acquaintance of mine. Wednesday Addams. You might know her.”

“Yeah, actually.” You rubbed your arm, forgetting about the weight of the remote in your hand. “She’s my roommate.”

“Roommate?” Tyler’s eyes went big and his body nearly lurched forward. Was it concern? Or fear that flashed through his face?

You shook your head in response and paused. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t either, both staying planted in one another’s spots. “What’s so wrong with that?” 

“N-nothing. She and I just…We have a bit of a track record. With each other. Just…be careful.” You rose your eyebrows, acting like you understood. “What’s that smell?” He inhaled shallowly, trying to identify what the smell was when he spotted a coffee cup laying next to the bag he noticed you wearing this morning. “Is that from the Weathervane?”

You had nearly forgotten that Tyler used to be a student at Jericho, lived there too. You nodded your head. “You want some? I don’t think I’m gonna finish it.”

Tyler swung his legs over the side of the bed, following you to your things like a little boy eager for candy. Grabbing the cup, you popped off the lid and handed him the half empty drink. He took a deep sip, practically inhaling it. “Caramel macchiato?” he asked, swallowing a gulp down. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?” You tilted your head. 

“I-It’s my favorite.” You hadn’t ever seen him smile before and it was nice. He looked at peace, a big contrast to how on edge he had been the entirety of the time you’d been in the room. While he still stood a ways away from you, he hadn’t hesitated to take the coffee from you. “You don’t seem like a caramel girl…” he questioned. 

“What aura do I give off then?” you joked, spinning in a circle. 

“Hmm…I’m gonna go with mint.”

“And why is that?” You hadn’t realized that he was getting closer. If it was voluntary, it didn’t show. His feet seemed to be stalking to you on their own accord, like an old habit. 

“Appealing to the eye, stripes are all orderly. You have a bold…scent. Not bad, just strong.”

You were by now blushing, but at the same time a little scared. His eyes had almost instantly transformed from the sweet boy laughing about coffee to hungry. For what, you didn’t know. “The taste overpowers everything but blends in with the coffee all together. But the taste lingers, leaving the consumer…satisfied.” He was speaking almost right into your ear at this point. Your heart was racing, both in affection and fear. You could practically hear it in your ears and were sure that he could too. 

You barely recognized when he pulled away, too caught up in the moment. He started talking again, but you couldn’t comprehend what it was. Thumping was the only thing that you could hear. He paused. “Are you okay?” 

Your eyes flickered back to his, finally being able to listen to the world around you. His features were back to normal, the shy teenager that you had walked in on a few minutes ago. Your father interrupted the conversation, standing just inside the threshold of the door. Both of your heads snapped to him. “Well, I believe that you two have already gotten to know one another. Tyler, Y/N. Y/N, Tyler. You have both been enrolled in an art extra curricular. Please follow me and we can get you to your place.” Tyler locked eyes with you again once your father turned around. You gave him a shy smile, more accurately a timid one. And Tyler knew. The hyde could smell the fear.

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin angst

[sharkpupsblog]

😨 Lost horse! 🐎

A Sabine x GN! Reader fanfic!

One req started!!! 😈😈😈 this is going to be multipart bcs I couldn’t find a way to shorten my writing to just one part 😭💔 I write too much 💔 its a blessing and a curse 💔 this part is to set the plot down 🗣🙏 I wrote so much for this part 😭 I have also started all the other reqs I have and . All of them will be multipart as well 😭❤️ once this req is done the next will come out and then the next! Then I think I will take a short break from writing to prevent burn out and to work on some other things! :D also for this req reader is not a soul rider! But Avalon’s kid! This is my second fic using Avalon as a dad 🙏 I care him 🙏 I didn’t want to make reader a soul rider but still wanted a way for them to be involved in druid stuff so the story would make sense so I made Avalon a dad again 🙏🙏🗣🗣 Anyways ty @ barricade-moonriser for the req! Enjoy! :D ❤️❤️❤️

Summary: You and your father visit Wildwoods and you find a lost horse

Warnings: Foul language, animal injuries, talk of an explosion and injuries caused by it.

“I’ll be back soon I promise!” You yelled to your father who watched you from the doorstep of Kora’s home. “I just have to deliver these to Rowan!” You showed him a bunch of papers in your hand. Rowan had you design some flyers for a trail ride, and now you were going to deliver them. You were already on your way to do the delivery, but you were stopped by your worried dad before you could even get on the trail to the ranger base. The man frowned he didn’t want you to go alone. Mistfall was dangerous there were wolves in the forest. Your father worried you might come across them. You also did not have a horse, if you got into trouble you would have to deal with it alone. He shook his head deciding it was best not to let you go “come back!” He yelled back to you. You were a bunch of feet away from him, so you both had to yell back and forth. “I am almost done talking to Kora! Wait for me and we can both go together!” Your father started walking towards you. You loved your dad you really did, but you also loved time alone. You walked to him as well, so you could speak and not yell. Once you got close to him you said “dad I can do it alone.” You wanted some alone time you hoped you could convince him to let you go. “I’ll be fine the ranger base is just down the road” you moved the papers in your hand towards the direction of the base. “If I get into any trouble, I can handle it alone” you grabbed your father’s hand giving it a comforting squeeze. “Go back inside and enjoy your tea with Kora I’ll be fine” you smiled when your dad squeezed your hand back. “Plus I’ve been around Mistfall many times and I have never seen a wolf” today would be no different. At least you hoped it wouldn’t. You brushed the thought away not wanting to accidentally manifest a wolf. “Can I go now?” You let go of your father’s hand. The man nodded, and you went wide eyed as he pulled you into a bone crushing hug. “Be careful” he said to you, and you managed to huff out an “I will!” Your dad was old you wondered where he got all that bone crushing strength. He was a druid his job did not require any psychical strength... Or did it? You didn’t really know what he did, he kept it all a secret from you. Maybe he was sneaking in some training sessions into his busy druid schedule to beat the shit out of Garnok himself. When your dad let you go, you took a deep breath in, and you said goodbye to him heading back to the trail. Your father headed back inside to speak to Kora leaving you alone. The walk to the ranger base was boring. You couldn’t use your phone it was low on battery, and you needed to save it. You looked around you trying to keep yourself entertained. You had seen all of Mistfall thousands of times. You had been up and down all the trails. The bad thing about having explored the whole forest was that there was nothing new to look at. You prayed to Aideen for something new. Maybe you should have allowed yourself to accidentally manifest a wolf. A nice wolf of course, so you don’t get mauled. As you walked you continued to look around. It did not take you long to notice that the forest was quiet. No birds were around. No rabbits or frogs either. No sounds as well. You were starting to feel uneasy. Why was the forest so quiet and still today? Your fear made your walk turn into a jog. You wanted to get to the ranger base quickly. It took a few minutes to get to the base and once you got there your fear grew as you saw that the base was empty. The lights were off, and the horses and people were gone. On the door you could see a paper taped to it. You walked over to the door reading the paper it said ‘Out investigating. Be back soon!’ You sighed wondering what to do. You needed to drop the papers off now while you were in Mistfall. You looked around for somewhere to put the papers. While you looked you thought about what the rangers were investigating. You heard some townspeople in Dundull say they heard an explosion last night. That same explosion was the reason why you and your father were in Mistfall.

When you asked your dad about it, he told you it was “classified druid business.” Whatever caused the explosion must be magical if your father was involved. You ended up finding a mailbox, and you neatly put the papers into it. You wished Rowan would have told you that they were going out. Maybe they could have picked the papers up from Kora’s house instead of making you come all the way out here. You reached for your phone in your back pocket. You were going to send Rowan a text saying you left the papers in the mailbox. When you touched your phone, you heard a shrill neigh. You stood still with your hand on your phone looking like an old timey western cowboy getting ready to draw. Did you imagine that neigh? You waited a few seconds, and you heard it again. It was coming from the trail leading to Wildwoods. The neighs echoed and bird calls followed after the neighs. You watched as birds quickly came flying out of the entrance. Rowan must be coming back now. You started walking down the trail to Wildwoods to meet Rowan there. The entrance to Wildwoods was covered by a bunch of bushes and vines. Some of the bushes looked like they had thorns, you would have to be really careful. As you walked into the entrance you carefully walked around the bushes with thorns. Some of the thorns came close to touching you but none of them actually did. The neighs got louder the deeper you walked into the entrance. You had never been inside the entrance of Wildwoods. It was all new to you, and it was amazing. You wished for something new while you were walking to the ranger base and you got it. You were so distracted by your surroundings that you didn’t realize you had gotten to the source of the neighs until you heard them again. You snapped your head towards the neighing. You moved your head so fast it hurt. You would have rubbed your neck in an attempt to soothe the pain, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t move you were shocked by what was in front of you. In front of you was a black horse with multiple wounds and damaged tack. Was this a new horse of the rangers? The horse neighed and bucked, and you noticed that one of its legs was not moving correctly. You feared the horse’s injuries caused lameness. Slowly you walked towards the horse “where is your rider?” You whispered to it not wanting to scare it. The horse turned to look at you, and you put a hand over your mouth quickly coming to a stop. The horse had red eyes. Blood red eyes that seemed to glow. You wanted to run you wanted to scream, but the look the horse gave you stopped you. It looked so sad… Could horses look sad? Were you imagining it? You didn’t have much horse experience. It had been a while since you last rode or had been around horses. The steed snorted, and looked away from you looking at the leg that did not move. You followed its gaze looking to its leg as well. You looked it over sighing in relief when you saw a vine wrapped on the horse’s leg. The horse was trapped that is why it wasn’t moving it was not lame, just trapped. You started moving again whispering “it’s okay” and “stay calm” to the horse. Some of those words were for you too. You were scared shitless, and you were trying to calm yourself down. The horse watched you as you walked towards it. Its red eyes watching you scared you more, and once you got close enough to the horse you slowly squatted down. “Please don’t kick me” you begged the horse, and it nickered. You hoped it was saying it would not kick you. Gently and slowly you grabbed the horse’s leg waiting for any indication that it was comfortable before proceeding. Once the horse relaxed its leg you began to try your best to remove the vine without further hurting the horse. You wanted something interesting to do today and you got it. If only the interesting thing would have been discovering a new kind of butterfly or a nice wolf and not a red-eyed horse in the woods. The vine slipped off the horse’s hoof, and you quickly moved to the side not wanting the horse to trample you.

You expected the horse to buck or to bite you or just do something crazy once it was free, but it just stood there. It snorted again, and it lowered its head to you sniffing your hair. The horse still had a medieval style bridle on it with an interesting symbol on the middle. The symbol looked like two snakes? You grabbed the reins of the bridle holding the horse still as you stood up. You examined the bridle. You hoped to find the owner’s or the horse’s name. You ended up getting lucky you found a tag on the bridle badly scribbled with sharpie that said ‘Khaan.’ You read it, and then you said it “Khaan?” The horse’s ears perked up, and you smiled “That’s your name? Khaan?” The horse neighed, and you pet them “where is your owner, Khaan? Can you lead me to them?” The horse did not move it just stood still watching you. With all the luck you were having today you expected the horse to move, and begin to lead you on some epic quest to save its owner. Luck must have run out. You thought about what to do, and while you thought it over you pet the horse. You stood there for a few seconds thinking about what to do while you patted the horse’s neck. Should you wait in place for the owner? Or go straight to the Dundull vet? Maybe report the missing horse to the rangers and hope they can find the owner? You didn’t know what to do, you were getting stressed. Khaan went stiff when he heard your name be called. It was your father he was calling you. You had taken too long, and he worried for you, so he came to find you. You panicked, you needed to find a way to hide the horse’s eyes. You looked at Khaan seeing his braided mane. He had a forelock it had been braided too and it looked long. You reached up undoing the braid. Khaan huffed as his forelock was spread evenly onto both sides of his face covering his eyes. You thanked his owner for growing out his forelock. You gently tugged on Khaan’s reins “can you walk Khaan?” The steed answered your question by taking stiff steps. The wounds on him hurt each time he took a step. You frowned, and you began to lead him out of the Wildwoods entrance “poor horse.” You pat his side “me and my dad will get you to the vet it will be okay.” Khaan nickered he trusted you to lead him through the entrance. His mane obscured his vision he was putting a lot of trust in you right now. Normally he would be very distrusting of a stranger. He would bite and kick, but right now he needed help, so he decided to trust. The ranger base was right outside and at the base was your dad. When he saw you he waved he stopped when he saw you were not alone. The man walked to you with his jaw open in disbelief “where did-.” You interrupted your dad wincing when you saw the upset look on his face “I’ll answer questions later right now we need to get this horse to the vet.” Your father saw the wounds on Khaan, and he understood your rude interruption. The horse looked… Familiar to him… Where had he seen it before? As you said before there was no time for questions, only time to help the horse, so he refocused. He could always think about where he saw the horse later. “Wait here” he said to you “I rode Kora’s horse here I’ll ride to Dundull and I’ll bring a trailer back with me.” Your father did not want the injured horse to walk further. You thanked your dad, and you watched him run back to Kora’s shire. Your dad wasted no time. He quickly got on the shire and you watched as he rode down the trail like he was in a race. Today was… Eventful you could not wait to go home and lay down. You smiled when you thought about bringing Khaan home. You knew he wasn’t your horse, but you were still excited. “You’re going to love staying with us Khaan” he huffed shaking his head to try and get his mane out of his eyes. “Don’t worry it won’t be forever” you fixed his forelock moving it away from his eyes. “Just until we find your owner… I hope they’re okay” You let out a little huff as Khaan laid his head on your shoulder.

He missed his owner, and he hoped she was alright. The explosion was bad, and from what Khaan saw his rider got the worst of it. You put a hand on his forehead, and you closed your eyes trying to provide some comfort to the poor horse.

TY FOR READING! :D ❤️🐎

#ssoblr #sso #star stable online #sabinessoxreader #sabinesso #khaansso #avalonsso #ssofanfic #mentioned > #korasso #sharkpupsblogwrites!‼️🗣 #lookingforssomoots💔

[winterknights]

WINTERKNIGHTS 2023 - FINAL AUTHOR/ARTIST REVEALS

It's time for our final masterlist and reveals for the 2023 WinterKnights fest!

Thank you to everyone who participated and supported the fest by showing your love through comments and kudos! If you haven't made it through all the fantastic works yet, it's never too late! Feedback is always appreciated.

For those who decided to be anonymous your work in the AO3 Collection has been revealed, and you may now cross-post your entries anywhere you please with your name attached.

Thank you all for another wonderful WinterKnights!

Please see our 2023 masterlist under the cut!

ART

• laevateinn created The Secret Ingredient - Merlin/Arthur o Merlin and Arthur have been together for quite some time now, it is only fair he helps around for Christmas.

• Anonymous created Morgana la Belfana the Christmas Witch - Gen o According to folklore, an old woman named Befana visits all the children of Camelot to fill their stockings with candy and leave them presents if they've been good. Just like Father Christmas, Befana enters through the chimney and is left with treats by the children who live there - typically wine and local delicacies.

• QuinnOliver created Merthur Cats in a Snow Globe / Merlin - Santa Lucia - Merlin/Arthur o Merthur cats in a snow globe. A snowy landscape with books in the background / Merlin leading Camelot to peace and freedom.

• ItsAWonderfulLife created The Queen Journeys On Alone - Gen o Gwen makes the annual journey to the lakeside of Avalon to honour her late husband and bring him a wreath for Christmas.

FIC

• chaosgenes created Kisses and Sneezes with Joy to All - Merlin/Arthur o ‘Tis the season of Yule and the halls have been decked… with the wrong mistletoe! Now a cold has been passed around and Merlin is stuck taking care of the knights instead of enjoying the festivities with them. But perhaps a little magic can lift their spirits…

• sage_owl created Mixed Company - Merlin/Arthur, Freya/Gwen/Morgana o A mixup in the mail leads to masquerades, glitter, scancal, glue guns, pining, and a very grumpy gingerbread man.

• Laurieonalark created Snow Ho Ho(w about we kiss?)- Merlin/Arthur o Merlin's being quite crabby about the winter season, so Arthur tries to fix it and maybe find some love along the way.

• ajsrandom created Falling for You - Merlin/Morgana o When Morgana wishes for love on a falling star, the universe throws Merlin into her path. Is he the one she was looking for?

• ItsAWonderfulLife created I wish I had a river I could skate away on... - Merlin/Arthur o Loosely based on Prompt 38 of the Winterknights prompt sheet: “Merlin/Arthur. Arthur, a bit of a Scrooge who hates Xmas and refuses to celebrate, slips on ice and knocks himself unconscious.

He wakes up to find himself wearing a pair of gaudy Xmas pyjamas and moments later his PA Merlin walks into his bedroom wearing a matching set and tells him to ‘hurry up because Mum will be here soon!” – the day gets stranger and stranger as he discovers he and Merlin are apparently a couple, even though Arthur has never actually admitted to liking blokes, and further more the gift he got Merlin looks very like and engagement ring, and they have all these friends who Arthur recognises from work but doesn’t really know, and Arthur’s sister even comes over! Confusingly he actually appears to be happy, when he would never have said he was unhappy before.

Up to author if this is reality or if he wakes up and tries to make it so.”

• ace_teagirl created Yule in Ealdor - Gen o On their way back from a patrol, Arthur and Merlin take shelter from a storm in Ealdor. Welcomed by Hunith and the villagers, Arthur spends the best Yule of his life.

• thetreeofwillow created I'll be Your Harvester of Light - Merlin/Arthur

o Winter solstices in Camelot are very different to the solstice in Ealdor, Merlin can't help but think as he watches the kitchen staff ready for the big feast.

In Camelot, the solstice is celebrated with a hunt the day before, and then a big feast the following day. t's so different to the solstice in Ealdor. In Ealdor, food stores are running low, most of the game has disappeared for the winter, and the nights are bitterly cold, and dangerous.. • camelittle created Magical Mishaps in Corporate Camelot - Merlin/Arthur o When Merlin Wyllt arrived at the colossal, ostentatious glass-and-concrete structure that would be his professional home for the foreseeable future, he beamed from ear to ear. This was everything he had been hoping for for months. Years, even! Finally, an opportunity to apply his skills in an environment that really mattered. His mother had been stalling him for too long. He had been ready for ages. Of course, he would have to be careful about not using his magic while he lived in the mundane world. His mother had made that abundantly clear. There were rules, and consequences when the rules were not followed. But keeping his magic under control shouldn’t be too hard. Should it?

• nuttersinc created The Planets bend between us - Merlin/Arthur o When Arthur drops out of university, his mother sends him to work at Aunt Alice's bakery in Northern Ireland in the busy weeks leading up to Christmas. Helping out in the bakery is hard work, but Arthur doesn't mind so much, not when the deal is sweetened by one of Alice's bakers. Merlin is beautiful and kind, and he has sacrificed his long-term relationship in order to follow dreams that lead him out of the village he's spent all his life in.

Arthur has always thought himsef to not get attached easily to other people romantically, but when Merlin, against all odds, shows interest in him, things get even more complicated.... • Excited_Insomniac created Texts for Ealdor - Merlin/Arthur o Arthur is going home to meet Merlin's family this Christmas. Here are some of the messages he sends Morgana about his adventures.

• teachingpoetry created A Dragon in the Hand - Merlin/Arthur o Arthur’s well-laid plans to get well laid go awry when the Christmas gift he brings Merlin turns out to be not just for Christmas.

• salamandair created Ghosts of Christmas Past - Gwaine/Percival o Everyone loved Christmas time. Except Percival. Or so it appeared to Gwaine, anyway.

• geeklover created Open Your Heart to Me - Merlin/Arthur o A ride through the beautiful snow to a picturesque frozen lake sounds like the stuff of romance, but for Merlin, it feels like it could be the beginning of a nightmare. Maybe he's just being paranoid. Only time - and Arthur - will tell. • Gil-galadhwen created Be Merry Sweet Lord, On This Yules Day - Gen o Merlin is confused by the kiss he’s starting to think he imagined sharing with Arthur when he was poisoned. But he’s even more confused by the gift Arthur gives him on Yules Day. Could it mean Arthur has feelings for him after all?

• tari_sue created That Guy I’ve Been Chasing All Year - Merlin/Arthur o "Bah, humbug" no, that's too strong, this is actually Merlin’s favourite holiday. But after a busy year where he constantly fails to go on a date with a certain blond prat, he’s just about ready to accept that it’s clearly not meant to be.

Merry Christmas, merry Christmas, but he might just miss this one this year.

#winterknights #winterknights 2023 #masterlist reveal #masterlist: 2023 #merlin #merlin fanfic #merlin fanart

[zeemczed-blog]

It's funny to go back and look at where the major players in the Webcomic Renaissance (tm) of the early 2k's ended up.

Really, there's four tiers (and a bucket).

First, there's Still Doin' They Thing Tier, for webcomickers that stuck to the grind and are still going strong. David Willis (Roomies!, It's Walky) is in his first full reboot of the Walkyverse with Dumbing of Age, and it's heckin' fun. Jeph Jacques is still doing Questionable Content, though he's now more mature and has gone sober. Brad Guigar is still doing Evil Inc., and shows no signs of stopping. Joe England finished Zebra Girl (and what an ending it was!), and will likely be doing more in the universe eventually. Bill Holbrook will stop doing Kevin and Kell when he has a total existence failure, and good luck getting Eric Schwartz away from either his Amiga or from Sabrina Online.

Then there's Still Doin' They Thing But More Queer Tier. There were a lot folks that realized "hey I'm not queer in some variety" over the last 20 years, and in a lot of cases this turned into something very cool in their work. Dan Shive (El Goonish Shive) has realized that he only prefers he/him pronouns because "it raises fewer questions" and is bi, and his work has turned from "no this is totally just gender-bending comedy because I'm using manga tropes" to one of the happiest queer comics on the internet. Mae Dean (Real Life Comics) realized she was trans during the lockdown, and while the schedule for RLC is as wonky as it's ever been, it's still ongoing.

Third is Fell Off. The creators of Avalon and Road Waffles and Jackie's Fridge have kinda disappeared. At least the former eventually hosted an AMA that explained he's working tech support now, and just kinda can't draw anymore. I also include Scott Kurtz in this - PvP was THE mainstream webcomic of my youth, and after his dad died, he kind of... dissolved. The whole thing is paywalled now, and AFAIK hasn't had a single update. Fourth is Got Big, with webcomickers that are now working in/have worked in animation in one stripe or another, or who are doing larger projects. ND Stevenson, Ian J, Rebecca Sugar (yes, I count The Ballad of Margo and Dread). And of course you have to include Jerry and Mike of Penny Arcade in here - while they're Still Doin' They Thing, they're also doing all kinds of larger projects. Of course, Dana Simpson is now doing a syndicated newspaper comic with Phoebe and Her Unicorn. Bobby Crosby's Marry Me got turned into a live action rom-com that is actually pretty damn good if you like romcoms.

And in the last tier, there's only one sad, sad person. And while I'm convinced that his self-loathing ass could be fixed with a massive load of peyote and a kick in the teeth, until then Tatsuya Ishida will remain alone in the Fucking Insane MAGA Asshole bucket.

Because he doesn't deserve a tier, that's why. (Edit: Fixed a typo.)

#Webcomics #Zee writes #Zee rambles