#5 plus 1

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

5 times Merlin got Arthur a good Christmas present and 1 time Arthur got Merlin the best Christmas present

Contains: temporary angst, banter, merthur, banter, mentioned argwen (not end game),banter, no smut, banter, Christmas Carol levels of effort applied to the happy ending, banter

ao3: 5 times Merlin got Arthur a good Christmas present and 1 time Arthur got Merlin the best Christmas present

The Start of a tradition

"MERlin."

Merlin sighs at the clear sign of an unavoidable list of chores or ribbing he's about to get.

"Yes, sire." He turns to see Arthur peeking out from behind the changing curtain, shirtless, of course, before he steps out and starts strutting over. He grabs Merlin by the shoulder and says as he drags him behind the curtain, "What is this?"

"Ah, that." Merlin notes.

"I know your brain is the size of a pickled egg, Merlin, but surely there was enough room to store an adequate amount of vocabulary to describe all the unusual things you get up to for when you get caught doing them."

The unusual thing in this particular instance was the pile of assorted items wrapped in some of Arthur's old shirts.

"Well," Merlin replied, "you know that holiday Christmas?"

"I've heard of it," Arthur replies with raised eyebrows, awaiting what he's sure will be an entertaining explanation if not an original one.

"Well, it is a tradition to give gifts to people on this holiday, and there are a number of kind, hardworking people I know who I thought might enjoy a little festive token of my appreciation for them."

"And you decided to hide them in my chambers?"

"Well, Gaius has a habit of popping into my room unannounced and you've been in council meetings all day, so I figured this was a good place to wrap and store them for a bit until I could find an effective way of sneaking them into a good hiding spot."

"Mmhm. And the shirts?"

"Well, it's a shame to waste good paper when there's more reusable and decorative material at hand."

"I see. Well, ignoring your complete disregard for whose chambers these are and whose shirts those are, I suppose it is a rather thoughtful thing to do for the recipients of those gifts."

If Merlin, wasn't mistaken, Arthur may have just complimented him. How peculiar. "Thank you, sire."

"Especially since you typically have no thoughts at all."

"Of course, sire," Merlin said with minimum sincerity (which, in this case, is less than none).

"And in the case of the surprise being spoilt for me already, you can go ahead and give me my present now."

Arthur had that look on his face like he had set up Merlin to get in trouble, not that Merlin ever needed help getting into trouble.

"Your present?"

Arthur pouted comedically. "Don't tell me you forgot to get me one."

"Well, to be fair, I did say I only got gifts for kind and hardworking people."

Arthur then had his most shocked trying-not-to-smile-face break free. That was one of Merlin's favorites.

"But as a matter of fact, I did get you something."

Arthur suddenly looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Yes." He walks over to the laundry basket he had brought up earlier with Arthur's freshly cleaned clothes, and dug around for two socks, which he proceded to ball up haphazardly and place in Arthur's hands before stepping away with an exaggerated bow.

Arthur quirked his lips and squinted his eyes the way he does when Merlin calls him a word he doesn't know. Another one of Merlin's favorite looks that Arthur does. "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome," Merlin says gleefully. "Shall I finish getting you ready for bed, sire?"

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes fondly as he walks over to where Merlin has started turning down the sheets.

"You know, gifts are usually something one does not already own," he says as he lays part of the way down.

"Well, I thought it would be a nice reminder to appreciate what you already have, sire." Merlin said with a cheeky smirk as they stared into each others eyes, closer than they really ought to be. Merlin breaks eye-contact first and gives the covers a last pat before extinguishing all the candles except the one immediately by Arthur's bedside, which Arthur will blow out when he's ready.

"Good night, Arthur. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Merlin." Arthur says with an exasperated sigh. Merlin shuts the door on his way out and Arthur lays his head down to feel something hard underneath his pillow.

"Ow! What the?!" He shoots up and yanks the pillow away, to find a small box.

He picked it up and saw there was a note that said "For the best dollophead one could ever have the misfourtune of working for." Arthur huffed out a laugh. He opened the box to find it was an assortment of Arthur's favorite sweets. Some of them he hadn't had since he was a child. He remembers telling Merlin about it to prove him wrong when he complained about Arthur having no concept of what makes a sweet actually good.

Arthur smiled to himself. He put the box on his bedside table, tucked the note safely in the bottom of the drawer, and blew out the candle.

2. Penny for your thoughts?

Arthur sat at his desk and pressed his hands to his face, letting out the most exhausted breath of air he'd held all day. He still had three speeches to write for various holiday events in the coming week and a plan for food rations to draw up and later present to the council. He'd already had a long morning of training. It seemed he was now in for a long afternoon.

Suddenly a tray with three scrolls on it was plopped down in front of him with a loud clatter. He looks up into a familiar smiling face. "Hello Merlin."

"Your royal highness."

"What are these?" He asks as Merlin turns to get started on dusting, if you could call his version of it that.

"Drafts for your speeches this week. I'm sure you'll find them quite well-written."

Arthur did his best to contain his surprise. "Oh, you didn't trust that I could write them myself, then?"

"I just had a feeling you were going to ask me to write them, like you always do. Besides, I couldn't bare to let all those people die from boredom by letting you be in charge of what'd come out of your mouth."

"I resent that," albeit halfheartedly, Arthur notes to himself.

Suddenly, a paperweight fell off his desk. Strange, his arm wasn't anywhere near it. He bent over and picked it up. As he did, he heard the sound of something being open and shut. He looked up, but nothing seemed out of place.

"Did you hear that?" Arthur asked.

"Hear what?" Merlin asked back.

"That sound. I could've sworn I heard something."

Merlin gave him a look that told Arthur he didn't believe him. One of his least favorite looks from his manservant. "I think you're just tired, sire. Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to help Gaius with some potions and you have speeches to look over. I'll be back later."

And then Merlin was gone. Arthur looked at the scrolls before him and decided to get things over with. He opened one up and it didn't take long before he found one of the 'jokes' Merlin likes to throw in that would never be appropriate to say as a drunk in the local tavern, let alone as a future king addressing his subjects. Most of the speech was fine, but he certainly wasn't going to refer to himself as "His royal highness, Prince Cabbage Head," nor speak the plans he apparently has to give his manservant a year off.

He can't help but smile to himself as he opened a drawer to retrieve a quill for adding in the things he'd actually say in these places, which he always has to do. He never crosses out Merlin's jokes, though.

He opens the drawer and notices there's something in it that wasn't there before. It was wrapped in one of his old shirts. He picks it up, takes the shirt off of it and sees it's a journal. Nothing anywhere near as extravagant as he's used to. On the first page, is an inscription that reads

"With the face of a toad,

and the voice of a donkey,

here's a place to come up with better jokes,

Because yours are a bit wonky.

Merry Christmas Dollop-head."

He turns another page to find a somewhat poor drawing of a donkey with the face of a toad.

He thinks of the nights when he and Merlin would be sat by a fire on a trip. The calm of the night and the way the firelight cast everything from the tree branches to Merlin's cheekbones in warm shadows would often move him to write a few words of poetry on a scrap of paper.

Merlin is the only person he'd ever admitted to about his hobby. Or rather, the only person who'd found out despite Arthur's best efforts. And he always ribs him about it. Yet, Merlin is the only person Arthur trusts to read his poems without being genuinely unkind about their quality...or even just their existence. Granted there are some poems he wouldn't let anyone read, including Merlin. Especially Merlin.

This notebook would hereafter come with Arthur on trips as often as Merlin would.

3. Two Turtle Doves And a Little Wooden Bird

Arthur was currently preparing to face his worse nightmare. Dancing. In public, no less.

Every year, the five kingdoms held a winter ball to celebrate another year of peace and prosperity as well as to show that they would be ready and willing to aid and provide for one another in times of need, such as in the winter when food is scarce and travel is difficult.

This year, Camelot was hosting, which Merlin loved because it meant they didn't have to trek through the snow for days on end. He also loved it because part of this sacred tradition was for the hosts to start the ball with a dance.

Therefore, Merlin was getting the wonderful opportunity to watch Arthur prance around in frilly clothes. Finally, he gets payback for that stupid hat.

However, he enters Arthur's chambers to find him nervously practicing the steps, looking like he's going to throw up.

Okay, maybe payback is going to have to wait.

"You alright, Arthur?"

Arthur snaps his eyes to Merlin like he's just had an epiphany.

"Merlin!"

"Yes, that is my name. Woah!"

Merlin suddenly found himself getting dragged to the center of the room, Arthur circling him like he's checking the quality of a horse. This is strange, even by Merlin's standards. "Arthur?"

Arthur suddenly stops, his hands gesturing pointedly and his face looking like he's about to make Merlin do one of his least favorite chores. "I need you to help me practice for the First Dance. I only have a few days left to practice it and you're feminine enough to make a half-decent dance partner."

Merlin was certain he heard that wrong. "Come again?"

Arthur huffs annoyedly. "I need you to dance with me so that I don't make a fool out of myself in front of all the five kingdoms during the first Winter Ball where I'll be presenting myself as king."

"Ah." Merlin should've known. Every "first" Arthur has gone through as king so far has led to him being a huge ball of nervous energy. Merlin couldn't blame him. He knows perfectly well how much the weight of the land can take a toll on one's shoulders. And he's known Arthur long enough to understand the toll it's taken on him, in particular.

"Arthur, I'm sure you'll do fine. Besides, you have days to perfect the dance and you'll have Gwen to help keep you in time with the music."

"Or to be humiliated by her oaf of a husband. I've already shoveled so much responsibility on her by making her queen; a queen half the council disapproves of solely for the circumstances of her birth. I can't ask her to make up for all my short-comings on top of everything else. I need to be as much someone for her to rely on as she is someone I rely on."

To say it's rare for Arthur to be emotionally vulnerable is an understatement of great and prophetic proportions. This is always where Merlin needs to tread carefully.

"Gwen knew what she was getting into when she married you. She knew you were a leader of one of the greatest kingdoms in the world. She knew you are constantly having to talk your way into the minds and hearts of your fellow leaders, the council members with dated views on what is good and just, and even your own people, many of whom are used to your father's way of doing things, if not supportive of them.

Arthur settles a bit, though still with a tightness to his shoulders and stress in his eyes.

"She knew she would gain an immense amount of responsibility and have her honor and capabilities picked at viciously. She knew she would have to get used to protocols and traditions of which there are thousands to learn about and keep in mind at all times.

"She also knew she'd have you at her side. She knows you love her and would do anything to ensure her happiness and well-being. She knows if there is anything she can't handle, which you and I both know is not a very long list,"

He got a small smile and hum of agreement out of Arthur for that.

"She knows she can come to you for anything. She does rely on you, Arthur. As much as you rely on her, and you know why?"

Arthur's eyes light up with hopeful curiousity.

"Because you've already proven to her that she can. You continue to prove it every day."

It's true. Merlin has seen how a touch of his hand calms Gwen when the crowds or the sternness of the council gets too overwhelming. He's seen how one shared look from either of them can change the other's scared expression to battle-ready. They were both born to be leaders. Putting them together only made them each more powerful and the kingdom more secure.

"She also married you knowing you couldn't dance for the life of you, so I really wouldn't worry about disappointing her there. I'm sure her expectations aren't that high."

A laugh burst out of Arthur at that. He'd barely had stopped laughing by the time he said "Thank you Merlin."

Merlin smiled back at him, then looked away as though considering something. "You know...Here." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small wooden carving of a bird, similar looking to the bird that is engraved on his mother's sigil. Very similar, indeed.

"I have a carving of a dragon, one of the few things I ever received from my father. Whenever, I hold it, I feel protected. Hopeful. Like I am more... capable and strong than I sometimes... feel I am."

Merlin takes a moment to swallow and gather the words he'll say next. Being emotionally vulnerable isn't all too easy for him either.

"It's also just something of a good luck charm. I just sort of figured, if you ever felt like you needed an extra bit of luck, it might be nice to have something to remind you of your own strengths. The things that make you a good king, a good husband, a good son. A good friend."

He looks Arthur in the eyes when he says this.

"You truly are destined for great things Arthur. You have everything you need within yourself to continue being a great king. And you don't have to do everything on your own. You have people who care about you. People who trust you and who will never judge you for whatever missteps you may make because they know you're only human. And that you're true-hearted enough to set things right when you need to. The people who matter will never abandon you for something as small as not satisfying the impossible standards of stuffy old farts."

"You know, you really shouldn't insult them like that," Arthur comments.

"Fine, I'll insult them even more creatively, then."

Arthur rolls his eyes. They land on the steadfast gaze of Merlin's, as strong in hue as they are in character.

Merlin holds out the small wooden bird. Arthur takes it and observes it. The detail on the wings. The familiarity of the shape. The smooth texture. He quickly glances up at Merlin before saying "You made this yourself?"

"I did." he answers softly.

"So wood-carving is one of those hidden talents you're always going on about, huh."

They smirk at one another, knowingly.

"One among many."

"I'm sure."

They're silent for a moment longer before there's a knock on the door and a guard reminds them of a meeting Arthur is being summoned for.

A few days later, the ball would take place and Arthur would actually have fun dancing with Gwen. He also, would only trip once, totally on purpose, to make Gwen smile amusedly, which she does. After a few dances, however, he's had enough. Gwen had too, and she goes to make charming conversation with their guests for a while, occasionally taking a break to converse with her ladies in waiting, many of whom, she's been friends with since before she was queen.

Arthur makes pleasant small talk with everyone as much as he can, but it is exhausting. He tries to get away so that he can banter with Merlin and just breathe, just to calm down a bit. He can't though. Everyone wants to talk to him and the room is so full of people dancing and milling about that he can't even see where Merlin is. He reaches a hand casually into his pocket and takes hold of the wooden token Merlin had given him. He thinks of what Merlin said. About his father, about their friends, about hope and strength.

Arthur will never tell Merlin this, but he truly must be a genius, because that little bird really did end up making him feel better.

4. Practice Makes Perfect

Arthur holds Excalibur in his hands. It truly is a magnificent sword. If ever there was a blade to convince you a legend was real, it was this one.

Still, Arthur has a hard time believing Merlin was being entirely truthful about the whole thing. He watches as Merlin speaks with some of the villagers. There really was a lot to do. Still, there was something he wanted to do that he didn't want to risk losing the chance to do.

"Merlin!"

Merlin immediately looks his way, excuses himself from the people he was talking to, and walks over.

Arthur reaches into his pocket and before Merlin can get a word out, shoves his old sword into his hands, much to Merlin's annoyance.

"Is polishing your sword really a priority right now, Arthur? I thought we-"

"That's not my sword."

"What?" Merlin blinked at him.

"That's not my sword. This is," he says, grasping the hilt of Excalibur.

Merlin looked delightfully flabbergasted.

"That's your sword." he continues.

"Arthur, you know I'm rubbish with sword-fighting. What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You're supposed to hit people with it. Preferably enemies. Consider it your Christmas present this year."

Merlin was flailing his mouth open and closed like a dying fish. Arthur told him as such.

"Arthur," Merlin called as he followed Arthur, who was resolutely walking away. He stammers for words. "Why your sword?"

"Practice makes perfect. Or, in your case, it ought to at least make you able to fight something bigger than an ant without getting knocked on your bottom. Besides, It's a practical gift. Don't I always get you practical gifts?"

"Yes, warm clothes and books, things I use regularly. But I hardly use a sword on a regular basis. It's not that I'm not grateful, don't get me wrong, but I just want to understand, why the change in routine?"

Arthur stops and looks at Merlin, then at the sword that he's had for quite some time. It was one of his favorites. Well-balanced, easy to wield, and not too flashy. Excalibur was clearly symbolic enough to justify the gold inlay and engravings, making it quite clear that this was not just a king's sword, but the king's sword. Arthur could feel that this sword was meant to be in his hands. Nonetheless, "That sword has served me well, Merlin. Even if your skillsets are lacking, and I worry for the safety of yourself and those around you when you have any sort of weapon in your hands, we're going to need all the help we can get now. And I trust that sword to be the most helpful to you in battle. So just take it."

He looks at Merlin intensely, making it clear that he won't back down.

Merlin sees this, and gives in with a nod. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Later, after they get back home and finally have time to rest, Arthur will find a new journal wrapped up for him; He had filled the last one and, evidently, Merlin had noticed, which wasn't very surprising.

This time, the inscription reads,

"Even if my skillsets are lacking,

Yes, I remember that slight.

Stop telling me I'm slacking,

I can still beat you with words if not in a sword fight.

Merry Christmas Clot-pole."

5. I'm Sorry

It was the first Christmas without Arthur. Merlin did as he often did these days, and visited the lake. He kneels by the edge, feeling the cold mud soak through the knees of his trousers, which he found vaguely comforting.

"It's that time of year again," He speaks aloud. "I've had the hardest time thinking of what to give you."

"When you gave me your sword, you told me you trusted it to be the most helpful to me in battle. I had given you a sword that I had hoped would be most helpful to you in battle. In the end we probably would've been better off if we'd have swapped, I think."

"I went through your journals the other day. I found...some poems, that sort of explained why you were always hesitant to let me so much as glance at the damn things, when I'd already seen a number of your other poems. I must admit, I feel like a fool for...well, for a lot of things. For my part in turning Morgana into a monster. For pushing Mordred to her. For not telling you about my magic sooner..."

"For not telling you-" He's near sobbing now, his tears falling to wet the ground even further.

"For not telling you everything. For all the mistakes I made. For not being able to save you."

"I'm sure, if you were here, you'd be underwhelmed at my choice of gift for you, but I truly think it's the best I can do."

"...I'm sorry, Arthur. That's my gift to you. I'm just sorry, for telling you 'there could be no place for magic in Camelot.' I'm sorry for the lies and the secrets. I'm sorry for letting you go anywhere near that battlefield. I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

+1. All I Want For Christmas Is You

Merlin would visit the lakeside every year, sometimes for a very long while, sometimes for just a few moments. Eventually, he'd barely find the strength to stop by at all.

Several hundred years after that, he'd get a job as a mail carrier, with a route that goes right by the lake. He walks that route now, in the winter cold and pauses for a breath. He doesn't look. He knows it's there. He knows he's not there. Not yet. Possibly not ever, at this point.

He continues along his route, as he has done over and over again, and will continue to do so over and over again until something forces him to change his habits as things do over and over again.

Until then, he keeps walking.

On this particular day, however, he must have been due for something to change again because something catches his eyes and ears. He hears the splash of water. He sees a glint of something shiny rising out of the lake. His heart stops. He drops his bag. He runs. His joints ache. He de-ages himself as he runs, so he can get to the lake faster. He gets there. He gets there and sees a fully armored, soaking wet, King Arthur of Camelot standing before him. They lock eyes. Arthur says his name and Merlin barely keeps from knocking him back into the water as he hugs him. Arthur hugs him back just as fiercely.

One year later, Arthur and Merlin will stand together in their house that stands somewhere close enough to the city that they can easily visit many of their reincarnated friends, who'd found wonderful lives for themselves in this new modern world(including Gwen and Lance, who had already been married for two years by the time everyone's memories came back), but far enough out that they can be left alone when they wish it.

It turns out that everyone aside from Arthur had been born into this new time and had new lives. When Arthur came back, they all regained their memories, and were all happy to see one another (mostly). Morgana and Mordred would each have a number of very long discussions with everyone. Over time apologies from all parties would be accepted.

In the meantime, Arthur and Merlin would be together, talking with each other, healing together, loving one another. Soon enough another Christmas is right around the corner and Arthur says, "I may need help finding a gift for you. I truly can't fathom how one can buy things with that same small card over and over and over. Not to mention the fact that your money is basically invisible now. It's ridiculous."

Merlin chuckles as he lays his head against Arthur's shoulder, the two of them sitting on the couch together as Merlin introduces him to the masterpiece that is "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."

After a moment of thought, he responds "Honestly, I don't think you need to get me anything ever again. You came back. That's all I've wanted for the longest time."

Arthur hugs him more tightly at that. Then he says "You're not getting out of me getting you a gift, by being all sappy."

"And you're not getting out of learning about modern currency by being cute."

"But you admit I'm cute."

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

They quickly end up wrestling each other until they've fully rolled off the couch and soon, it turns into a giggling mess of kisses and holding onto each other for dear life.

Even though he tried his best, Arthur has never been the best at picking out gifts for people. But in Merlin's book, nobody could ever beat the gift he got him that year. Nothing would ever top reuniting with the love of his life and finally living happily ever after.

[trashcan3001]

Of Purple and Being in Denial

A K-Project one-shot by me! (don't take it too seriously, I have no idea what I am doing)

Summary: 5 times Bandou and Doumyouji made purple and that one time they didn’t realise a king saw

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#1: The ‘purple incident’

It was supposed to be a simple mission. 

But then again, isn’t that what Kusanagi-san always tells them before everything goes to shit? Seriously, why does it always have to be him? Bandou can’t help but brood as he chases the now known strain, Susuki Haruto through the alleyways of Homra territory. 

No, seriously, why him?!

He rounds a corner ready to attack, only to slam straight into a moving wall…that is to say, another person. Another person wearing blue… and has a sword- aw shit, really?

"Get the hell out of my way!"

"Eh?!- no, this is Scepter 4 business, you need to leave!!!" The blue lackey's shrill voice cut through Bandou's ear drums like needles, ouch. God, why does it have to be him that runs into a Scepter 4 dumbass?

"You can tell your king to go fuck himself, this is Homra territory; you should know by now that you don't butt into another clan’s territory!" Bandou shoots back.

"Excuse me-"

A cough from the forgotten third person stopped the two clansmen from escalating their fight. Bandou flipped his head around to find the source of the voice, coming face to face with one Suzuki Haruto. 

He stood, hands glowing an almost black colour as a sadistic smirk graced his face. 

Uh oh.

Bandou takes a quick look at the blue clansmen with him, seeing that his expression is the same as his. They make eye contact briefly, nodding in what Bandou hopes is a truce to fight this strain together before looking back at their target.

The black glowing power pulses to greater heights in Haruto's palms, it surges. Bandou tackles the blue clad boy to the ground, narrowly dodging the attack. They roll together, standing at the ready, auras blazing to life in a blend of red and blue.

It's a stand still until Haruto hurls his power at them once more. Bandou blocks with his red flames as the blue clansmen beside him slashes his sword through the attack. For a moment, their auras connect, blending into a split second of purple. In that second Bandou feels the world come to a stop; what the fu-

“Bandou!”

“Doumyouji-kun!”

The calls of his comrades had Bandou tripping, reeling in shock and embarrassment. Luckily he’s not alone as the blue clansmen- Domyo- whatever the other blue bastards called him, tripped up as well, falling straight into him and bringing them both to the ground. 

“Oof”

“Ouch!”

Bando quickly rolled him off of him, standing up and dusting himself off; ugh, seriously?! He could just feel the laughter of the people around him, furthering his embarrassment at his visit to the dirty alleyway ground. 

Looking up, the scene around him revealed that the blues had arrested Suzuki Haruto who was, unfortunately, staring directly at him, a creepy smirk in place as though he knows something he isn’t supposed to. 

Did he see that whole ‘purple’ business? Does that even mean anything? Oh, whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore, the job is done. Fixing his sunglasses, hat and hood, Bandou stands tall and readies himself for the humiliation that his comrades would inadvertently give for his job not so gracefully completed.

With another hit to his pride, Bandou forgets all about that ‘purple’ incident as the knee jerking loud cackles of Chitose and the harsh back pats of Yata-san follow him all the way back to Homra. 

— — — — — — 

#2: The horse; yes, that one

Here Bandou finds himself again, chasing after a strain, or well, 2 strains now. 

With his comrades scattered and chasing from different directions, Bandou had the sneaking suspicion that his pride would be bruised both figuratively and physically by the end of the chase. Another corner rounded and his fate was sealed.

He found the blues with the 2 strains and some of his comrades attempting to get the prince guy to hand himself over. In the distance Bandou sees that same blue idiot from his last pride kicking moment. What was his name again? Dom, dam, Domo- Doumyouji! Yes, that one! The loud and annoying one that he somehow keeps crossing paths with.

Yeah, that's going to get old real soon. 

He found the prince strain and the horse trying to run with Anna in their grasp and he knew what he had to do. Running in front of their path, Bandou realised he wasn’t alone in his futile attempt. The Doumyouji guy was right there beside him and a sense of deja vu rolled over Bandou like a curse. 

Time had stopped again, for just a millisecond, as he and Doumyouji readied their powers, purple flickered into existence. Now, Bandou would have freaked out a bit more and recalled the first time this happened if it weren’t for the hoove that appeared to be getting closer by the second-

CRACK

Pain, oh man the pain. 

Bandou can feel his face throb from the direct kick given to him by Basashi. From the corner of his vision as he listens to Yata-san reassure him that he isn’t pathetic, Bandou sees ginger hair and assumes Doumyouji is in a similar state. Well, he guesses that not being alone in being the butmunch of his clan is better than nothing. 

He finds himself passed on to Shohei as the chase for that stupid asshole strain starts up again. Oh, and the one for the prince dude too. He is brought back to reality by a flashlight hitting his eyes like a laser. 

“Bandou, can you hear me?” Two Kamamoto’s asked. 

Let’s just say that with his concussion and a more obviously bruised ego, Bandou forgot all about that flicker of purple once again.

— — — — — — 

#3: That time the buttmunch duo were bested by a cat

You know how he said running into Doumyouji would get old real quick?

Well, it happened. Bandou was out and about trying to make his way back to Homra after patrol when he ran into the elusive moving wall (the person) once again. 

“Oi, what the hell are you doing in Homra territory, again?!” He points his index finger right into Doumyouji’s chest, forcing him to take a step back. 

“I was just leaving, why do you have blackout sunglasses on in the middle of the night?!” Well excuse him for having an aesthetic based on his paranoia!

He watches Doumyouji flail and as he was about to open his mouth to reprimand him again, a crash startled them both. Looking into eachothers eyes, Bandou found the same dread filling the blue clad boy in front of him.

“What was that?” Doumyouji whispered.

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” he whisper-yelled in answer. 

In hindsight, when this whole ordeal was over with, Bandou realised that looking for the danger first and then arguing about it would be the smarter thing to do in the future. For now though, he turned around like those idiots in horror movies waiting to die only to find a very plump cat. It froze as both he and Doumyouji continued to stare at it in disbelief.

“Is that a cat?” Bandou finds himself asking. 

“Yes, I hope.” Huh?

“You hope? What is that supposed to mean, what else could it be?” 

Another thing to add to the ‘To do better in the future list’ is to never assume anything is as it looks at first glance. Why? Well, you see, as they were talking the cat set out a vicious attack! It was a terrifying ordeal; who would have thought something so round could jump so high? 

In the midst of this brawl, both Doumyouji and Bandou unconsciously let out their respective auras. Somehow, they merged and a zap of purple is the only thing that allowed them to escape the horrifying creature. When they had gotten out of the alleyway together something changed. With one uncomfortably long staring contest, an agreement was met. 

‘We didn’t see a thing, and nothing happened’. Well, except for the cat of course, nothing could hide the dishevelled hair or the copious scratched all over their faces. 

Kusanagi-san was not impressed by his story to say the least. 

“How did you get so ruffed up by a cat?!” 

— — — — — — 

#4: The purple wielding strain (how convenient) 

It took three sleepless nights and being extra quiet for his comrades to ask him what was wrong.

The problem for Bandou was that he didn’t think he could tell them that he’s been thinking too hard about a blue clansman and their aura compatibility. Is it fate? Can he do it with others? Is it only them? Is it only him? Yeah, he really couldn’t risk telling his clansmen about this, at least, not yet. 

So here he is, slowly making his way home after falling asleep standing in the middle of Kusanagi-san and Totsuka-san’s lecture about taking care of yourself. Oh, and Shohei is here too. Well, not for long though as soon a strain led yakuza group would show themselves on Homra’s territory and it became all able hands on deck. 

Turns out, Bandou was not a part of the ‘able hands’ on deck. 

That didn’t stop him from cutting through the alleyways to get to the group before anyone else. It also didn’t stop his sleep deprived brain from noticing one panting Doumyouji of the blue clan running his way as well. It was just them and the yakuza group. He couldn’t remember much other than the leader emitting a surprisingly purple aura and then taking it as a challenge. 

Here he grabbed Doumyouji’s arm beside him and merged their aura’s to emit an even brighter purple aura. He didn’t notice the absolute shock on the blue clansman beside him, or the interest in the yakuza leader’s expression. To be fair though, he really didn’t notice anything at all. 

Next thing they both know, the yakuza strain group hybrid was incompasitated and knocked out all around them. Bandou to this day still doesn’t know how it happened and Doumyouji is really bad at making reports. His crayon drawings aren’t even legible! 

“Watch out!” 

Okay, so not everyone was knocked out, and the leader blasted them both with his purple flame. Lucky for both Bandou and Doumyouji though, since the strain had purple flames, the one around them wasn’t questioned at all! 

They collapsed, or at least, Bandou collapsed and brought Doumyouji down with him. With his sleep deprivation and mushy thoughts, it didn’t take more than 5 seconds for him to lose consciousness as the sounds of frantic voices filled his ears.

oops.

— — — — — — 

#5: Testing

He woke up to a massive headache and confusion.

Forcing his eyelids up and open revealed a surprisingly dim room, the window showing the sun setting into the night.

He wasn’t in Homra, that he knew. Where he was, however, remained a mystery until the door to the room he was in opened and revealed Doumyouji. He walked in, closing the door behind him and sat in the chair Bandou hadn’t noticed was beside his bed. 

“So… you’re in Scepter 4’s infirmary if you didn’t realise.” Huh, well that’s good to know. 

“Why am I here?” He asks instead. 

“Well, you passed out after being hit by the strain’s power and nothing anyone did could wake you up. We thought you got hurt somewhere or that the strain power did something so we took you in to keep watch.” 

“Oh, well I feel fine so can I leave?” 

Bandou sat up fully, throwing the blanket away from him and turned to stand up. Well, he would have stood up if an arm didn’t grab him and push him down onto the bed again.

“Oof-”

“Wait-”

They stare at each other for a moment, Bandou in indignation and Doumyouji in what looked like awkward fear. 

“What?” Bandou finally asked.

“Um, well, you remember the fight right?” 

“Yes, what about-” 

Purple, oh god they merged and created purple! They fought with the purple! It wasn’t a split second or flash of it, it was a whole take down of a yakuza group with the purple! Oh fuck-

“You just remembered our aura’s merging didn’t you!” Right, Doumyouji i still there.

Right, he needed to find a way to get out of this. He will need to gaslight, gate-keep and insult! There was no merging, why would he ever merge with a blue bastard? Besides, that’s ridiculous-

“Yes.” Shit.

“Can we try it again?” Wait, what?

“Huh?” 

“Can we try to merge our aura’s again?” 

“Why would you want to do that?” 

“Because, we controlled it like it was our own when fighting and I want to see if it’s dangerous or not!” He gave Doumyouji a look.

“Okay so maybe I think it’s cool! I think you do too!” No he doesn’t.

He thinks it’s scary. He thinks that although he wishes he wasn’t insignificant this was not the way for that to go. 

“If I test it out with you, will you let me go?” He finally asks.

“Yes!”

And so he grabbed his hand, both aura’s coming to life, only for nothing to happen. They tried three more times before giving up and concluding that it was all the strain’s fault. As he walked back to Homra with the name ‘Andy’ in his PDA, Bandou wondered if perhaps he was just dreaming of the purple. 

Maybe he was going crazy and in reality he was still just an insignificant, normal (for a clansman that is) dude. 

What he didn’t hear was life laughing at him in the distance.

— — — — — — 

+1: I’m Not crazy? Damn it!

Running into Andy really was getting old. 

Seriously, how are they both faster than their comrades at getting to strains wreaking havoc? They looked at each other with a new understanding that perhaps they aren’t as useless as their teammates always say they are. No, seriously, how are they always the first ones there? 

“Why is it that whenever there's a strain both of our clans are chasing we are always the only ones to catch up?” That’s a question they won’t ever get an answer to.

“I wish I knew man, I wish I knew.” 

Before long, the strain of the day took their attention, sharp blades swinging for their jugulars. Dodging and blocking, Bandou found himself on the opposite side of Andy, making a crude gesture to try and communicate his idea hoping it worked. 

It did.

He jumped onto the back of the strain, forcing him to turn around and try to throw him off. Andy burst forward in a blaze of blue and cut the strain down as Bandou hopped off at the last second. Now beside one another, Bandou nodded towards Andy, a silent thanks for a good job at following his plan. Not that he ever had any doubts of course, he’s Bando of Homra, only the smartest of-

The strain threw himself at them and Bandou didn’t know how, but he grabbed Andy’s sword hand and swung it down on the strain’s coming blades. It was a moment of purple, merging from red and blue. Aw shit, are you kidding me?! Is it real? He’s not nuts? Come on-

He and Andy make eye contact and nod in another agreement.

“This never happened”

“Yep”

“Nothing weird happened at all”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about”

They parted ways as their clans finally made it to the scene, not noticing the sharp glint of glasses on a king known for his sadistic curiosity. 

Sorry Bandou, life thinks, I didn’t realise the blue king would just sit back and watch. 

Whoops!

[fictionallemons]

Five times Sam and Dean had accidental phone sex and one time they did it on purpose. A smutty/sweet 5+1 (+1) for Dean and Sam.

[femmedefandom]

Prince, Exile, Traitor, Hero

Reminiscing on my one and only completed multi chapter fic and hoping re-reading my others will kickstart the inspiration to finish instead of just starting another WIP. 😅

[uncanny-tranny]

Another bonus to learning a fiber art is being able to speak to others in a Lovecraftian language that nobody else understands...

...and also being able to read things like THIS:

[correct-hermitcraft-quotes]

Joe Hills: Everyone should follow Bdubs on Youtube, and if you follow Stress you will get to Bdubs eventually!

[kirby-the-gorb]

[amphibianaday]

day 1349

[cameoutstruggling93]

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK XMEN'97!!! WHY DO YOU WANT TO HURT ME SO MUCH!!!

[beebundt]

first animation ever..... or ENAmation u could say

[fortune-maiden]

I have discovered the True Final Boss of PMD:

The Hunger Mechanic

[mokeonn]

I fucking hate the tetris effect so much. Like oooh lemme play this funnie little card game rogue-like, ooh it's so fun it's gonna be the only game I play for weeks now, oooh what do you mean I'm fucking duplicating multi-card holographic sevens in my dreams

[sandraharissa]

I’ve seen somebody call the dynamic between Cait, Vi and Jinx a love triangle and they praised arcane for utilizing it in a unique way that doesn’t solely involve romantic love. And I completely agree, but the thing is is that arcane did it so much that those love triangles are all over the place. It really is such a unique concept to apply this kind of dynamic to platonic relationships cos typically ppl don’t think of platonic bonds as exclusive, so how would the conflict of two relationships that are inherently in opposition to each other even work in that case? and yet, when arcane figured out how to do it they went all in.

Firstly and most speculatively we have Silco, Vander and Benzo. Vander and Benzo seem like best friends and Silco and Vander were ‘brothers’ but I get the vibe that Silco and Benzo never got along and there was no love lost there. They just purely dislike each other from what we’ve seen and it seems like the only reason they’d hang out is cos of both of their connections to Vander. If there was a deeper character choice there for Vander to make when choosing between the two that is not explored in arcane.

Then there’s Sevika, Silco and Jinx, and again, Sevika and Jinx are the two closest ppl to Silco and the only ones he seems to have any sentimental feelings towards, and yet Sevika and Jinx can’t stand each other, likely only hang out in each other’s vicinity bcos of Silco and would murder each other if they could. Again, there’s no love there and it’s almost like a competition for Silco’s favor. Sevika also represents his devotion to his dream and Jinx his devotion to her, his family.

And then there’s Silco, Jinx and Vi. With the two characters being the two closest bonds Jinx ever had and both being her care-takers. The two are in competition with each other over Jinx and are actively trying to kill each other. They represent the mutually exclusive options of morality/sanity and immorality/madness.

Then there’s the aforementioned Jinx, Vi and Cait. With yet again, the two being the absolute closest ppl to Vi in the world and yet themselves being mortal enemies to each other who’d kill each other if they were left together in a room. If I were to give these characters their thing then I think it’d be Cait representing morality, a future that Vi could have, hope and a healthy relationship where Jinx represents immorality, the past, guilt and a toxic relationship. Altho the finale and Jinx leaving wasn’t really a choice Vi was making between the two. And notice how so far it’s the first example of a romantic relationship being a part of these love triangles.

And lastly a shout-out to our Piltover characters with Mel, Jayce and Viktor being portrayed as tho the romance gets in the way of Jayce and Viktor’s friendship and vice versa. Altho so far it’s subtle cos shit hasn’t hit the fan yet.

I could be missing one but just the examples I already listed are so many, and they cover most main characters and all the most crucial players. Thinking about it, if they hadn’t cut out the Ekko flashback I’d probs be able to add Ekko, Jinx and Silco to the list. (Maybe even Mylo, Vi and Powder count, if Vi agrees with Mylo then Powder’s a jinx, if she protects Powder then Mylo gets his face bashed in and she just gets a pass. Also what about Vi, Cait and Cassandra? could they count? it's kinda underdeveloped but they kinda fit)

But anyway, great majority of the bonds involved in all these triangles are platonic and there’s always intricate character reasons why certain bonds, platonic vs platonic or platonic vs romantic, are actually mutually exclusive. But even stuff as simple as ‘they don’t vibe with each other’ is good enough to justify a completely platonic love triangle where a person has to choose between relationships that on the surface level don’t seem incompatible, like two friends or family members. Most of the competing relationships also typically represent two drastically different choices/life paths a person could choose, where the choice of one inherently excludes the other person from being a part of the character’s life, like a ‘going down a path I can’t follow’ situation. If Silco picks Jinx then Sevika wouldn’t be able to follow him anymore. If Jinx picks madness then Vi can’t follow her anymore. Etc. etc.

[omaano]

Instead of leaving a comment on a fic like a decent human being, I decided that it was a good idea to set myself up for an art project that is 50% landscape and fabric and colours I rarely-if-ever get to use oops X"D

On an unrelated note, did you know that @brightmouth 's Lessons in Idle Ecstasies is fucking great?? (All her writing is, really, I just have so much reading I need to catch up on, I've been too busy trying to figure out how to paint rocks and mountains and things I thought I knew how to paint ^^; )

[musicalchaos07]

Hello my fellow Jonathan enjoyers I am once again coming to you with a possibly controversial opinion. After look at that blurry ass photo all day I genuinely think his hair is going to be closer to this:

Which imo tracks bc what we've seen so far from s5 is that they're playing up the s1 nostalgia HEAVILY. Like with the exception of Dustin (and maybe el) everyone else that we've seen so far is very s1 (Joyce is wearing the same jacket, Steve's wearing the same shoes also like Mike wheeler) HOWEVER, I am also ok with him having the kitchen scissor monstrosity of s3 bc he looks so pookie.

🕯️🙏 Manifesting less blurry pics of blorbo asap (also giving him a flamethrower)🙏🕯️

[peridots-pixiwolf]

sketches from @mipexch 's whiteboard a couple days ago!!

also feat. a very small reference to @onlineviolence :]