#but if I have to repopulate the content for this ship on my own SO BE IT

[vvitchering]

Cobb getting out of bacta tank containment and promptly filling tf out because he finally has access to enough food and water for the first time in his life. Finding out he wasn’t tired and worn out all the time because he was getting too old to be marshal, it was because he was living in a town never sure when it’s next delivery of food and water was coming. He was getting by on much fewer calories and less water than everyone else because less in his mouth meant more in someone else’s. He was having spotchka for dinner most nights. Now with his town under the new daimyo’s direct protection and a couple weeks of good filling meals under his belt, Cobb looks and feels like he’s in his thirties again.

And of course Boba notices. He’s the one who personally flew supplies out to Freetown the first time Cobb refused food because no way was he eating steak while his people needed water.

He’s watched the marshal slowly and stubbornly claw his way back from the brink of death, from the loss of a limb, to where he is now: practically glowing with health and in the best spirits he’s been in since maybe ever.

Cobb was attractive before. He’s got kind eyes and an honest smile and a not very well-hidden feral side that comes from living his sort of life. There wasn’t an ounce extra on him when they brought him in. There was a lot of speculation on whether his body had the resources to bounce back at all.

Subjected to the full force of the man’s personality, the attraction only grew. Cobb might be the only other person Boba has met who’s as much of a stubborn bastard as he is. He hates to lose, hates to feel like anything is out of his control, and that’s something Boba is intimately familiar with.

Now that he doesn’t look like a strong breeze would send him flying anymore, Boba is having a hard time focusing on much else during their sparring practice. Cobb’s artificial arm had to be resculpted recently to match the progress he’s made on his remaining flesh and blood arm. He’ll always be on the leaner side, it’s just how he’s built, but the muscle he’s packed on and honed is impressive.

He’s been learning close combat skills with Fennec. It’s helped him become more comfortable with his new arm and been a productive way to work out his frustrations at being essentially trapped while he continues to heal. He still gets his ass kicked up and down the length of the training hall on a regular basis, but he’s improving.

Fennec taps out after an hour or so and leaves the wrap-up to Boba most days. Which means he gets Cobb when he’s at his sweatiest and most eager to prove himself. Boba is beginning to think Fen does this on purpose.

Cobb gets closer and closer to scoring a hit on Boba every day. It’s rewarding to see he and Fennec have made a difference in this man’s life. And maybe a different kind of rewarding to watch him swipe strands of damp silver hair out of his face and smile crookedly when Boba calls a stop for the evening.

[thehandsomecat]

controversial RaC opinion: rivchet is a really weird ship. Like... Would you really date your own genderbent clone?

i agree with you so much anon. r/vchet really isn't my cup of tea either, ngl

though i didn't really think about it in the sense that rivet is ratchet's literal genderbent clone... [rambling under the cut]

bear in mind that i haven't played rift apart myself (owning a ps5? in this economy?) and i have the memory of a goldfish, so i might be wrong about this or missing something important:

but i was under the impression that rivet is truly a different person from ratchet, and the main reason she's considered ratchet's (almost) 1:1 dimensional counterpart is the fact that they have so much in common (height, backstory similarities, personality, putting up with nefarious, etc) but beyond that, they seem like separate individuals. but if i missed something that proves that they are clones, that's definitely another thing to consider.

(not trying to be annoying about semantics, just musing about the clone idea - sorry for the tangent)

but anyway - me, being a loser who thinks way too much about the logic behind shipping - my main issue with r/vchet is that the idea of them being together feels like it's being forced onto the characters, even despite ratchet already having a canonical girlfriend, and rivet being a lesbian? i think? (albeit stated to be such outside of official canon as far as i know, thus making the topic of her sexuality - and rivet, the character, as a whole - the subject of many very annoying online debates)

but all of that gets disregarded in the context of shipping them together. because apparently, a woman (especially a ~lombax woman~) just Cannot Exist on screen in ratchet's vicinity without HAVING to be his love interest. because she's Not Allowed to be her own person, independent of the male lead with her own role in the story. she just has to exist solely to play a very specific romantic role towards ~The Main Man~ <3

and - in the specific case of this ship (and ratchet x angela, to a much lesser extent, though i feel like i've seen this too) - there's this weird idea of like, "well, they're the ~last lombaxes~, you know what that means <3" with the implication being that they're somehow "required" to get together for "the future of the species."

...even though the lombaxes aren't in actual danger of going extinct (in fact, they left their home dimension to AVOID that happening), they're just scattered across dimensions and, other than themselves, there aren't any left in either ratchet or rivet's dimension. and thus this gives the appearance that the lombaxes are going extinct, when they really aren't. with the newly repaired dimensionator they can literally Go Find Them Now if they want to.

and so not only does the idea not really make sense in an in-universe context, it feels like it reduces both characters to what they're capable of 'giving' to the universe at large without considering them as individuals with their own wants.

and i'm not trying to say that's the only reason anyone ships them. i'm sure there are other reasons that people have, though i wouldn't know because i just Cannot get into it. and i also don't care That much. but like, i feel like i've stumbled on wayyy too much content of the ship that centers entirely around their status as The Last Of Their Kind, with the running theme being that Repopulation Is Their Sacred Duty or some weird shit. and all in all, it just puts a bad taste in my mouth.

i will give the R/vchet Likers one thing - there's a reason people are shipping ratchet with rivet despite the fact that they knew each other for a very short time canonically, and it's because ratchet and rivet had more on-screen interaction and a vague yet slightly better sense of 'chemistry' with each other (which is really just two people being polite with someone they just met, as they have no reason not to be) than ratchet has with his own girlfriend.

which is a separate issue and ultimately the fault of the writing basically making talwyn a non-presence for several games in the series at this point, and i hate that for her, i really do. but that's a rant for another day. this post is long enough as is.

[thesleepy1]

My King Shall Have Everything

A/N: A fuck load of people seemed to like my last Merthur fic. I even got a request for a sequel from @antobcq who wanted a 5+1 fic where Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap. I haven’t done one of these fics in ages but I’m down with this prompt. I also love the headcanon where Merlin is a better court member and adviser than Arthur and completely leaves Arthur in the dust during diplomatic meetings. Unbeta’d as always, we die like Arthur.

Extra note, this turned out much longer than I expected it to. This might be my longest fic yet. I didn’t mean for it to be like this but I spent too much time on it to just leave it alone. And much to my surprise, it’s a linear storyline as well. I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to give me some feedback. Do you prefer the linear storylines or short snippets of scenes? Also, kind of sorry for the slight angst. My bad. It got worse towards the end, I was getting really tired and wasn’t completely sure how to end it. It’s not on the highest note is all I’ll say.

Pairings: Merlin x Arthur, slight Gwen x Morgana

Summary: Five times Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap and one time where Merlin couldn’t get anything done without Arthur on his lap.

Word count: 10,485

Warnings: Lap sitting, fluff, physical touch, sexual content, grinding, angst, wounds, violence, character death, more warnings to be added, more tags to be added, proceed with caution, breeding kink, impregnation kink, mentions of dub/con, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, eugenics, blood, gore, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, whump, injuries, begging, character death, mentions of public executions, long fic, foul language, asphyxiation, strangulation, choking,

Arthur was good at many things, but being on time was not one of them. Especially, when at the end of the hall he had to attend a council meeting with some of the most stuck up people he had ever met, and that was saying something considering he had to spend the last winter with his extended family. His advisers had been up his ass all week about the new rising kingdom beyond the continent. A kingdom so far away, he had just heard of it several months prior. It was like the kingdom had appeared overnight, suddenly a new ink blotch taking over the lower side of the map.

Personally, he didn’t believe it was real in the first place, having a squadron of knights and hired mercenaries sail over to investigate this so-called Kingdom of Le Lubrique. Much to his disbelief, they didn’t come back empty handed and instead returned with a message. A greeting, as his advisers and Merlin had called it.

To Arthur, it was merely stiff aristocrats getting together in too large a room to talk about dull nonsense. Something he had enough of in his own kingdom. Every other month he was already forced to put on a brave face and converse with the other ruling kings and queens of the continent; he didn’t need another to add on to the mix. He already loathed the balls he was required to host.

“You’re late,” Merlin hissed at him as he entered through a side door so as to not alert the others of his presence.

“That’s kind of the point of me coming here long after the time I was supposed to, Merlin,” Arthur rolled his eyes, sneaking behind the other advisers present to his seat. Merlin begrudgingly followed right on his tail.

“This is serious Arthur, you should have been here ten minutes ago!” Merlin nagged a tad too loudly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great king of Camelot himself. I’m delighted to see you have graced us with the honor of your belated attendance,” said an adviser from the guest kingdom with a tone that made Arthur want to stab him, wars be damned.

“I hope you could excuse my tardiness just this once,” Arthur began, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. He looked over to Merlin for help, but the warlock looked clueless as usual. “It...was just that I was caught up with...making sure my...uh...husband’s family were making themselves at home. The in-laws are visiting, you see. You know how hard it can be to keep them happy.”

Merlin looked like he wanted to hang Arthur with his own entrails at the king’s quick thinking. Camelot’s advisers seemed to be considering throwing themselves from the window. And the guest advisers seemed content with Arthur’s answer; though not pleased.

“Oh, believe me,” one of them began, a tall woman with high cheekbones and piercing brown eyes, “I know exactly how tiring in-laws can be.” She let out a high pitched laugh like the sound of dying blue jays; the sound made Arthur want to join his advisers as they inched towards the open windows.

“Well, yes, hahaha, they can be quite a hassle. Especially people that are related to my husband here,” Arthur clapped his hands, smiling at Merlin as he took his seat at the head of the table, “Shall we properly begin then?”

Arthur truly and wholeheartedly regretted agreeing to the whole thing. It was hour after hour of mindless words with little to no meaning. They just went on and on about things that meant little to nothing. He tried to tune out their voices but the tall woman’s laugh was like the crack of a whip, bringing him back to reality each time someone made a vaguely funny comment.

“Are you alright, Arthur?” Merlin said in a hushed tone next to his side. Concern had brought his dark eyebrows together. Arthur was tempted to take his fingers and smooth out Merlin’s worry, but perhaps that was too intimate an act for a meeting. Then again, when did Arthur care about what other people thought of him and his husband.

“I’m fine, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, “Just so bored with all of this.”

“How could you be bored? Have you been listening to half of what they’ve been saying? For a kingdom so small they have so much potential. Their farmlands double ours, as well as their ores, and their medicine is even on par to Gaius’s.” Merlin continued on with such a light in his eyes that Arthur was distracted like a moth to a glowing flame.

“Arthur, have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”

The king shook his head softly, slightly ashamed for not paying attention to his husband. “I’m sorry. I’m just so distracted. I need something to ground me if I’m going to survive another dreadful hour of this,” he groaned, thinking over if the fall from the window would kill him or lethally wound him. Either way, he’d be away from this horror with Merlin at his bedside playing nurse. At the private thought, an idea crossed his mind that had him delighted.

“You know what would help me?” Arthur began, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“What?” Merlin gave him a suspicious look, having seen the grin on the king many times before.

“It’ll really help if you were on my lap.” Merlin gave him an incredulous glare, ready to smack him across the back of the head for such a suggestion during such a crucial conference. “Please, Merlin? You really do help me focus.”

The warlock seemed to be thinking over Arthur’s request, a frown twisting his face. He looked like he was going to say no, but the pleading look on Arthur’s face made him change his mind. “Just this once. I don’t want to make a habit of this, Arthur,” Merlin warned in a hurried voice.

“Just this once,” Arthur lied through his teeth.

The second king of Camelot sat himself on the first, his side pressed against Arthur’s chest. Arthur wound his arm around Merlin and held him tightly. The action seemed to have garnered the attention of the visitors who looked at the pair strangely. And for some odd reason, the visiting ladies of the guest kingdom seemed to be glaring intently at Merlin.

“We are ever so sorry to be boring you, your majesty, but there is still much to discuss,” a visiting high lord coughed, glaring at the pair. “I apologize that our talk of declining population, racial biases against commoners and sorcerers, and ever so low birth rates have made you tired, but considering it may be the undoing of Le Lubrique, I deem it vital,” he practically snarled.

Arthur’s grip on Merlin tightened, his other hand palming Merlin’s thighs. The warlock couldn’t hide the grin that was stretched across his beautiful face at the touch. The king absolutely loved that grin. Arthur glared right back at those who dared question his behavior, for him showing his love for his king. He sounded in a stern voice that left no room for argument, “No apologies needed. Please, continue.”

“Don’t let us disturb you,” Merlin added with a more snarky tone, commanding the same amount of respect. “You have our full attention.”

-----

“Must I attend? You’ll be there, is that not enough?” Arthur whined as Merlin buttoned up his shirt.

“We are hosting a party in the Kingdom of Le Lubrique’s honor. Their queen has traveled all the way here to properly meet us,” Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s cheek for the effort. “Must I continue?”

“Only if you wish, my dear,” Arthur pointed to his other cheek, waiting for the same treatment as the other.

Merlin rolled his eyes, pressing another kiss to Arthur. “I’m serious, Arthur, this could mean an all out war or the strongest of ally ship. I mean, have you read the reports of what their kingdom is like? It sounds, and excuse for my word choice but there really is no other way to describe it; magical. I would love to visit the country myself. If we make a good impression they might invite us for a stay,” he continued, tying a red handkerchief with Camelot’s crest around his own neck.

“And that’s why the second king of Camelot would be in attendance.”

Merlin left Arthur in their room after that, knowing that Arthur would follow him. “Are you really going to make me sit there and listen to them go on and on about their plan to repopulate their country, or over tax their people for the food that’s in abundance? Come on, Merlin, we could have our council handle it.” Arthur stepped in front of Merlin to block his way. “Why don’t we head back to our room and make this a more entertaining night?” he wiggled his eyebrows to make sure Merlin got his point.

Merlin heard him loud and clear and rightfully ignored Arthur’s attempt to get into his pants. He sidestepped the man to continue on his path, turning a corner to the ballroom. “Do you hear yourself? What kind of impression would that give Le Lubrique if you just suddenly disappeared?!” Arthur turned to run back to their room just to prove Merlin’s point, but the warlock quickly magicked him back to his side. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

And that was how Arthur ended up sitting on his throne, bored out of his mind and unwilling to be civil or sociable when he could have spent the entire evening snuggled inside Merlin. He could have been in bed by now, having Merlin moaning his name underneath him, but instead Arthur watched as the guest and court mingled and danced. The instrumentalists bobbed their heads in tune to their upbeat song.

Despite refusing to speak to anyone besides Morgana, and Merlin, and occasionally Gwen when she could spare a moment from dancing; he had learned quite a bit about their guests. The fact that although they had a vast amount of farmlands, they had little people to work in them. Which came as a shock to Arthur because he had learned earlier on that Le Lubrique consisted of mostly sorcerers.

Le Lubrique’s queen was the tall woman with a voice that made Arthur’s ears bleed. Her lady in waiting seemed to be a distant relative from their shared trait of high cheekbones, drowning brown eyes, and dark hair. The two were glued at the hip, her lady in waiting obsessively trailing behind her like a newborn duckling wherever they went. They were both strong magic users if Merlin’s gushing was anything to go by. And also very beautiful with fancy perfume that complimented each other so nicely that they smelt like heaven, from Merlin’s words of course, not his. If Arthur didn’t know any better, he would think Merlin fancied them; the queen and her lady in waiting.

Even when the queen was dancing with a number of council members, the servant would be right next to her. It was quite amusing to watch them struggle to sway in time with the music. Arthur had already made bets with Gwen on the number of times party guests would refuse dances with the pair because they refused to separate. So far Arthur was winning.

That was until the queen smugly asked Merlin for a dance. Her lady in waiting immediately stepped away like someone had called for her assistance, leaving the queen alone with Merlin. Much to Arthur’s disappointment, Merlin happily accepted the dance. He took the queen’s hand and off they went, twirling around as if they were the only ones in the room. His hands on her shoulder and waist, her hands virtually tearing his clothes from his chest.

The way the queen of Le Lubrique looked at Merlin made a sick feeling build up from the pit of Arthur’s stomach. She was undressing him with her eyes, the brown in her gaze turning an almost pitch black from lust. The woman said something that made Merlin taken aback, something about dragons and druids, but it was hard to hear from the chatter of the room. For all Arthur knew, it could have very well been a spell.

Merlin recovered quickly with a grin and laugh that had Arthur’s heart skipping a beat. Then the two of them had the audacity to continue dancing as if nothing had happened, the queen still shamelessly pulling at Merlin’s fine clothes that only Arthur was allowed to rip away.

Arthur didn’t know why Merlin didn’t stop the queen when she pulled his handkerchief from his neck. The king was almost killed for even playing with Merlin’s handkerchief and now this woman was doing the same without losing an arm and a leg? Completely unfair. That was proof in itself, she had casted a spell on Merlin.

“Merlin,” Arthur called out to his husband sternly only to be ignored once more. “Merlin,” Arthur stepped away from his throne, making his way towards his husband and the queen.

“I think you should go to bed before things get ugly,” Morgana gently warned Gwen, gesturing towards Arthur’s outburst. “It could either go well or we’ll die of secondhand embarrassment.”

“Thank you for your concern, my love,” Gwen replied with a smirk, “But I want to see how this unfolds.”

Morgana laughed at that, glancing between Arthur and Merlin. “Suit yourself.”

The two high ladies watched as Arthur pulled Merlin away from the queen of Le Lubrique, dragging him away from the woman as she stared on in horror. To Gwen's and Morgana’s surprise, the queen tried to pull Merlin back into her arms. Merlin seemed to be in a daze throughout the whole skirmish. His eyes glazed over, even from afar.

“Should we step in?” Gwen asked with concern, ready to intervene.

“Arthur can handle it, probably.”

The queen called her lady in waiting to help her. Three heads tugged at poor Merlin like he was flax rope at a kingdom fair. The lady in waiting tried to block Arthur from getting a good grip on Merlin while the queen tried to take more of Merlin’s clothes off. A crowd was forming and Morgana distinctively noticed coins being passed around in bets.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Oh, It's just getting good,” Morgana grinned like a Cheshire cat. “How much are you willing to bet, my beloved?”

Finally, as the crowd began cheering, Arthur twisted out of the lady in waiting’s grip and grabbed hold of Merlin’s waist. The king lifted the warlock up in a bridal carry and turned on his heel for his throne, the crowd parting in heckles and laughs. Arthur blatantly ignored them, sitting down on his throne with Merlin in his lap. Unfortunately, he was unable to retrieve Merlin’s handkerchief, a matter he will surely not hear the end of for quite some time. But between a measly piece of fabric and Merlin’s life, Arthur would choose Merlin time and time again, his own life be damned.

Taking a moment to throw a sneer at Gwen and Morgana who were snickering, Arthur tried to shake Merlin out of the haze. “Are you alright, Merlin?” He stroked Merlin’s arms gently, trying to bring him back to the present. His blue gray eyes were a stormy glaze, seemingly out of it. It made an ugly feeling swirl around in Arthur’s head, the fact that some queen had touched his Merlin in such a way made Arthur sick.

Merlin shuddered in Arthur’s hold, looking down at himself and then at the ballroom floor where others had returned to dancing. Confusion crossed his face, “Of course, I’m alright,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “How did I get here?” Merlin rubbed at his temple, trying to soothe the ache that had formed there.

“Arthur carried you like the jealous brute he is,” Morgana explained, passing Gwen a handful of coins.

“Jealous brute?” Merlin questioned, looking at the trio for a real explanation.

Arthur was about to defend himself when a member of Le Lubrique’s court approached them. “Haha, I couldn’t help but notice the spectacle that you put on there, sire,” the man addressed Merlin.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow.”

The man laughed again, mirth in his eyes. “I guess you wouldn’t,” he said vaguely, “The queen does have a way with words.”

“What do you mean by that?” Arthur butted in, holding Merlin a tad too tight. Merlin squirmed in Arthur’s lap but Arthur seemed to hardly notice.

“Well, you are a warlock, aren’t you, sire?” the man addressed Merlin once more. Merlin nodded despite himself. “A warlock as well as a dragonlord under the queen’s attention is bound to feel the efforts of her magic. And her special attention for that matter, hahaha.”

“Sorry,” Merlin began, more confused than before. “What do you mean by that expactly?”

“Our queen is a lovely dragon tamer. Her family is the last of their kind. Although taming a dragon is much easier when you have someone who can speak to the creatures,” the man laughed as if telling a joke only he knew the punchline to and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Least to say, the rest of the night Arthur didn’t let Merlin out of his sight. He had no idea what a dragon tamer was and Merlin seemed as lost as he was, but he wasn’t taking any chances. No one was going to “tame” his lover. Whatever that meant. Morgana and Gwen could laugh and call him jealous all they want, Arthur only had Merlin’s best interest at heart.

“I doubt having me be a lap warmer is in my best interest.”

-----

It had been weeks and Arthur naively thought they were done interacting with the kingdom of Le Lubrique. He had hoped to be finished with the rising kingdom, to leave them alone as long as they left him be.

He was rarely fortunate these days. Never even.

Apparently, Merlin was not deterred by almost being kidnapped by the queen and her lady in waiting. Merlin even said he enjoyed their company and their attention to his every breathing word. Arthur loved the man, but sometimes he could be quite an idiot.

Merlin, without Arthur’s knowledge, had invited a member of Le Lubrique’s court to stay at the castle. Who else to volunteer to come to Camelot but the queen’s lady in waiting. She was only supposed to be in the kingdom for a couple of weeks, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. That couple of weeks turned into a couple of months and eventually the woman practically lived there. She had made herself at home on day one, much to Arthur’s dismay. He couldn’t really kick her out without making a bad impression towards her kingdom, despite what her queen had already done.

He was a king. Much to his reluctance, he had to act like it. And that meant acting like you liked people that you hated to the core.

“And these are our forests,” Arthur gestured to the thick wall of trees that signified the beginning of the woods. “I typically take neighboring kings hunting here. If you’re interested, we can go if you’d like.”

Sylvy, the lady in waiting, sat on her horse with her head held high. For someone with a position like her’s, she acted like she was queen herself. Arthur had spent the whole day trying to show her around for the utmost time. She was never satisfied with what he showed her, as if she were looking for a break in the walls of the kingdom.

Every morning she demanded to be taken around on a tour and every afternoon she was left with a deep frown on her face. Nothing made her happy it seemed, and Arthur had truly tried to make her feel at the very least, welcomed. It was just so difficult to do so with the knowledge of what she had done to Merlin. Had enchanted him, put him in a daze of some sort.

If Camelot still had the ban on magic, she would’ve been dead the moment she laid a hand on Merlin. On the crown’s orders, she would have been hung or burned, some form of public execution. Her dark hair would go up in flames as the fire burned higher and higher, her head would hang low as the bucket was kicked out underneath her. Arthur was still considering having her prisoned for what she did and simply explained to her queen that there had been a freak accident. If he were a lesser man, a lesser king, he would’ve done so and let it be a warning.

“I despise hunting as a sport, it’s just mindlessly cruel,” she snarled, her lips curling as a show of disdain. She held the reins to her horse like a vice, afraid that she’d be ripped from the saddle and forced to participate in such barbaric practices. At least, that was what Arthur thought was swimming through her mind.

“Yes, yes, but some like the adrenaline rush of a good hunt,” Arthur explained without real passion, merely a form of continuing the dry conversation. Sylvy had woken him up so early that morning he barely had a chance to give Merlin a goodbye kiss. “Some have to do it to survive.”

“There are other ways to live,” Sylvy began, urging her horse to turn by towards the main part of the kingdom, seeing as they were on the outskirts. “Le Lubrique for one replies solely on farmlands. We have no need for meat or the slaughtering of innocent animals. Everyone can live without such a horrible act; people and sorcerers alike. Meat is simply murder.”

Arthur half heartedly nodded, trailing behind her while trying not to fall off his horse. “I can’t argue with you there.” He didn’t want to argue with about anything her to be truthful, he had had enough of that already.

They traveled at a moderate trot in silence before she spoke up again. “Why haven't you invited me to a council meeting? I’ve been here for ages. Surely you have these sorts of things at least once a month.” She tried to act nonchalantly, but Arthur could see right through her. “I mean, there must be all sorts of things to discuss. An heir to the throne for one, seeing as neither you nor king Merlin can bear children.”

“We just haven’t had any council meetings, nothing interesting to report that couldn’t be done with a quill and parchment is all,” Arthur lied with a fake smile she could not see. “And an heir doesn’t need to be of blood. They just need to be taught how to properly command a kingdom like a fair and just ruler. To know what’s best for a kingdom, who to trust and who to leave behind in the woods.”

A look of abhorrence lingered on Sylvy’s face at Arthur’s words, bothered that he would even say such a thing. But Arthur was right, it didn’t matter if his heir was not his child as long as they were just and fair to all that passed them. Arthur could only imagine what Le Lubrique was like if all their subjects thought the same way Sylvy did. It must be all out war for them if a bastard appeared in court one day; though in reality royal bastards were a dime a dozen.

Sylvy went quiet for a moment, calculating her words while mulling over what Arthur had said. “With a kingdom as large as yours, surely there’s action all around? Suitable women all around. Something worthwhile must have happened during my stay,” her voice took on a tone that Arthur didn’t like, a light flush painting her cheeks like some teenage girl with a crush, “What about king Merlin?”

“What about my husband?”

“What has he been up to?” Sylvy asked indifferently, trying to hide her curiosity from Arthur. If only she would try to hide that damn blush. Merlin was physically attractive, Arthur knew this as an undeniable fact, but to be so unabashed while in front of the man’s husband? What was he? The first king of Camelot reduced to chop liver. Unbelievable!

“Well, he’s the second king of Camelot. A king’s job is never done. There is always more work than one man can handle. I should know, I used to be the one doing all the work.”

They reached town just as Sylvy took on an accusatory tone, “Then what are you doing here?”

Arthur resisted the urge to strangle her in front of so many people. His fists clenched around his reins so hard his knuckles turned ivory. “I’m showing you around, just as you had requested,” Arthur gritted through his teeth, trying so very hard not to glare at her.

“And here I was, hoping to attend a meeting with the second king.”

“Really now?” Arthur could feel the mare under him shuffle on her hooves at his fury. “You know what? There might be one later today.” What he had planned was so unbelievably petty and a tad childish, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. Sylvy was getting on his last nerve. “I’ll have a servant call you when it’s time. For now, why don’t you explore our lovely town by yourself? Walk around without a king hovering over you and all. That way, I could get back to doing my job.”

Sylvy brightened up in spite of Arthur’s words. A smile was forming on her face, her high cheekbones pushed up even farther. Her brown eyes crinkled at the notion that she’ll be able to see Merlin. “I can’t wait,” she said, unsaddling and handing the reins to her horse to Arthur. “I must get ready,” she said to herself loud enough for Arthur to hear.

“Take all the time you need.”

Arthur would regret those words later that night when he sat among his advisers. Sylvy, their honored guest was over half an hour late and the others were beginning to feel on edge. Many of them were not planned for a meeting so soon after the one they had earlier that week. It was an unprompted get together for the lady in waiting’s sake, Arthur had explained to them.

On days like these Arthur was glad he was king and that there’d be grave consequences if he were murdered by one of his advisers. They would be in the right to do so, kill him that is; but he was hoping to live long enough to raise a couple of children with Merlin.

“Why are we doing this, Arthur?” Merlin asked, hiding a yawn with his hand. While Arthur was riding around the kingdom with Le Lubrique’s queen’s lady in waiting, Merlin was left to run the kingdom by himself. The haunted task of commanding and keeping an eye on so many people was taking its toll on the sorcerer. Merlin hadn’t properly slept in days, too busy keeping the kingdom in one piece.

“Sylvy wanted to be present for a council meeting. As a member of Le Lubrique’s court, we have to answer to her call until her stay is up.” Merlin gave him a look that called Arthur out on his poorly constructed plan. “And I may or may not want her to know that you’re taken.”

Merlin rolled his eyes along with most of the present court. They should all be used to Arthur’s antics at this point. What were they expecting? An honest to god meeting to discuss important topics with their visitor from foreign lands? Never. A fake meeting just so Arthur could flaunt the fact that Merlin loved him and not some conceited queen and her lady in waiting? That was more like it.

“Sometimes I can’t believe I asked you to marry me,” Merlin yawned again, giving Arthur a tired look in more ways than one.

“Feels just like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“More like a nightmare.”

“You love me,” Arthur opened up his arms so Merlin could take his place on the king’s lap. Merlin shook his head at the gesture, so incredibly done with Arthur. “Come on, Merlin. You know you like it here.” He teasingly patted his lap. “You can rest until our guest arrives.”

“Fine,” Merlin said begrudgingly after a moment of hesitation, his mind clouded by the want for sleep. “But you better wake me up when she comes.”

“Of course,” Arthur assured, inviting Merlin over once more. This time Merlin made himself home on Arthur’s lap, his head going to rest on Arthur’s chest. He curled in Arthur’s lap like second nature, having done this so many times over the years. Arthur wrapped his arms around the younger man, making sure he was supported and comfortable. Merlin fit perfectly nonetheless. Within moments, a soft snoring sound could be heard from the man on Arthur’s lap, content in where he sat. The second king finally got the rest he deserved. “I wouldn’t wake you for the world,” Arthur whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Merlin’s arm and leg.

Another half an hour passed achingly slowly without the esteemed lady in waiting’s presence. Arthur was about to call off the whole thing and make his way to his bedchamber when at last, the doors to the room opened to reveal Sylvy. She was no longer dressed in her usual servant attire with its cream apron and blue gray dress. Instead she had ransacked the queen’s wardrobe, wearing something befitting a ball.

The dress was elegant and detailed with silk and satin; a deep shade of bourbon that brought out her brown eyes. Her hand was even done up in cascading dark curls that perfectly fell from the knot atop her head. A glittering wine hair piece sat nestled against her hair, matching perfectly with the studs in her ears. She was beautiful even without the time spent enhancing what was already there, but now she stood ready to rule a kingdom.

Sylvy took her seat across from where Merlin would have sat. “Where is king Merlin?” she asked, not noticing that the man in question was currently sleeping on Arthur’s lap.

“I’m sorry for how unprepared we were, but I can relate to your troubles of not having enough hands to run a kingdom. My husband had taken the task of ruling all alone while I tended to your needs.” Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s hair when he stirred in his sleep, continuing on his over sweetened words. “He’s beyond exhausted, but still wanted to take part in our meeting. Please understand that he really did try his best to stay awake.”

The emotions that crossed Sylvy’s face came in a blur; she was unreadable. But one thing was for sure, Arthur had won this small battle. He had shoved Merlin’s unquestionable favor for him in the lady in waiting’s face. Merlin was his and his alone. For good measure Arthur pressed a deep kiss onto Merlin’s lips, the sorcerer smiling in his sleep.

His advisers on the other hand felt cheated. If the death glares shot his way were anything to go by. Though there was one from Sylvy as well. A lot of people wanted him dead at the moment. But he was perfectly happy. They could string him up after the meeting for all he cared, the unintelligible look on Sylvy’s face was worth it. She was utterly speechless.

“I’m ever so sorry we were late to start, but would you like to commence this meeting?” Arthur asked like a gentleman with a cocky grin, making sure to stare right at Le Lubrique’s envoy.

-----

When Sylvy left Arthur rejoiced. She was finally out of his hair. Things could go back to normal and he could go back to spending his free time with Merlin instead of on horseback through a bare orchard. No matter how many times Arthur explained to Sylvy that their crops were not aided by magic like Le Lubrique’s, Sylvy insisted on seeing their “mortal” development.

Everything was put back into its rightful place. He couldn’t wait to put everything about Le Lubrique behind him and move on.

He was back on the throne with Merlin, leading the kingdom just as they were before the whole ordeal with Le Lubrique. Their advisers especially liked the fact that Arthur was back with Merlin; it meant less work for them. The moment that Sylvy left their grounds, Camelot’s advisers piled parchment after novel after demands on his table.

Those selfish bastards.

The so-called requests were so thick that Merlin didn’t even make a sarcastic comment comparing it to Arthur’s ass, and, or his thick skull; the warlock simply went to work. If Arthur himself wasn’t already terrified of the workload, he would have shocked himself to the grave at Merlin’s willingness to submit to their advisers. The two kings of Camelot knew when they met their match.

What felt like weeks passed where Arthur and Merlin did nothing but what their advisers ordered. They were slaves to their own court. The two didn’t leave their room for anything, not food, not training, not even a breath of fresh air. Their knights would occasionally knock on their door to make sure they were both still alive, but once the knights of the round table had been turned down a couple dozen times, they stopped caring. Merlin and Arthur shut off the world. They were practically locked in there, all because of their own doing.

Well, mostly Merlin’s doing. He was the one who invited the envoy over and wanted to make peace with the new kingdom. Arthur had nothing to do with that prolonged visit from the devil, he was only paying the price. His hands ached like it had been shorn off at the wrists, his back screaming for him to rest. He didn’t remember the last time he touched his bed, the neatly tucked in linens calling him to slumber. But he couldn’t, neither of them could until their work was done. Their kingdom depended on it and their kingdom came first, Arthur and Merlin’s comfort second. They both knew what they had signed up for when they decided to wed.

“A-Arthur,” Merlin groaned late one night, the sun mere minutes from the horizon.

Arthur immediately looked up from his book, putting his full attention on Merlin who was on the other side of the room. Neither of them had talked in days besides the few grunts they exchanged while passing over important text. The fact that Merlin was straining his voice now meant something serious was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur coughed, his throat parched and dry as a desert.

“I-I-” Merlin began, rubbing harshly at his hurt eyes, “I think that’s the last one.” The sorcerer signed one more parchment with a flick of his wrist, setting it aside to dry along with the rest.

And the thing was, Merlin was right. There was no more work to go through, to tirelessly read; everything was finally done. “I’m so tired I don’t think I can see straight, b-but that was it!”

“What?”

“We’re finished, you clophole," Merlin smiled, taking Arthur’s breath away.

Arthur leapt out of his seat, pure joy masking the aches and pains as he rushed over to Merlin’s side. The king pulled the sorcerer from his chair, lifting the man into the air, Arthur kissed Merlin like it was their wedding day. Deep and full of all the longing he had for the man, grasping at him as if he could protect Merlin from the world.

He only pulled back for air, inhaling lungfuls before pressing his lips back against Merlin’s. Arthur missed his husband so damn much despite having worked across the room for each other. He hadn’t touched the other man in ages, it was heaven to feel his heartbeat beneath his pained fingers. To kiss down Merlin’s pale neck and mark him until the whole castle knew exactly what they had been up to. To pull at Merlin’s clothes, ripping his tunic right off of his chest, the buttons flying across the room.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, gently pushing Arthur back so he could speak. “I liked that shirt.”

Arthur thumbed at Merlin’s trousers, holding his hips tight enough to leave marks that Merlin would feel for days to come. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“But my mother made me that one,” Merlin complained, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck. His strong hand went to cup Arthur’s cheek, making the king look at him. Forcing the king to calm down and evaluate things. “We have to get something to eat too, dear,” Merlin told Arthur in a loving tone. “We’re both too exhausted for this.”

“I’m never too tired for you,” Arthur bit back, leaning into Merlin’s hand. He may have been putting his weight on Merlin’s desk so as to not fall over, but Merlin didn’t need to know that. Arthur could most definitely ravage Merlin while on the brink of death.

Merlin pulled Arthur close to kiss him softly, “If we go to bed now, then we can spend all of next day together,” Merlin tried to bargain, eyes teary from lack of any sort of sleep. “You’re going to hurt yourself, you ass,” he chuckled with a small smile that made his eyes crinkle with mirth.

“I don’t want to,” Arthur whined, “I’ve worked for weeks on end. Now I want my reward for behaving.” Arthur sat back on Merlin’s desk, pulling the man on top of him. The desk groaned under their combined weight, but Arthur hardly cared when he had Merlin on his lap and straddling his thighs. “You’re all I want.” He embraced Merlin, the warlock half naked and moaning as Arthur kissed along his arm. His mouth sucked at Merlin’s skin, teeth leaving markings on pale skin claiming Merlin as his. Arthur worshiped Merlin until his stormy eyes were hazy with unabated lust.

“Just you….”

Arthur slumped forward, out like a dying candle before he even knew it. Merlin had to stifle a laugh, though he doubted anything would wake Arthur then. The king was out cold, snoring like there was no tomorrow. Too bad Merlin had to carry his fat ass over to their bed. The warlock was beginning to rethink their plans for tomorrow. Sometimes he wished Arthur wasn’t such a stubborn ass and listened to him. It would save them both the trouble, Merlin was right most of the time after all.

“Get some rest, you oaf,” Merlin said to the asleep man, tucking him into their bed. Arthur’s blonde hair was like a halo against their stark white pillow, the dark bags underneath his eyes a contrast with the paleness of his skin. His old tunic was a dull red from overuse, the buttons holding onto the fabric for dear life. Merlin stripped Arthur of his boats and stuffy tunic leaving both men in their trousers. A much better way to sleep if anyone asked.

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear, snuggling up against the king. He threw the blankets over himself and laid on Arthur’s chest. The pull of sleep had Merlin out just as quickly, the moment he allowed his breath to even out, there was nothing that would stop him from getting the well earned sleep that he so needed.

“Rest well, Merlin,” Arthur answered in a murmur, pulling Merlin in close. “Sweet dreams, you idiot.”

-----

“Arthur, calm down and try to see reason!” Merlin all but yelled at the king without his crown. The man in question was in his knight gear, armor and chainmail strapped tightly to his body for protection. His sword hung to his side, within reach at all times. Arthur could feel something ominous looming on the horizon, it was Merlin who was still seeing the world with rose colored glasses.

“I tried to see reason. I tried to play nice. And this is what I get in return,” Arthur gestured to the pile of charred wood on the round table. Wood that was once the homes of innocent farmers who played no part in the altercations of royals. People that Arthur was supposed to protect, their livelihoods and homes included. “We were nothing but good to them and this is what happened. Dozens of houses burned to nothing overnight!”

“We have to act now, Merlin.”

“Going in there with your swords raised in offence isn’t going to do anything but start an all out war,” Merlin insisted, urging Arthur to reel himself in, to not lash out at the closest thing. If it were anyone else Merlin would have already smacked them over the head for raising their voice at him. Unfortunately, Merlin was sleeping with the man and didn’t want to be smothered in his sleep. “That’s what Le Lubrique wants; a reason to fight. We can’t give them that.”

“Then what exactly do you expect us to do, Merlin?” Gwen piped in across the table from Merlin. Morgana stood to her side, eyes darting between all the speakers in a frenzy. “They attacked first. It’s only right that we return what they have given us.” Gwen picked up a piece of wood, charcoal rubbing off on her hands as she turned it over. “Arthur is right, we just can’t sit idle.”

Merlin stared at Gwen, hoping that she would be on his side on this. She solemnly shook her head, denying her friend’s offer. Gwen wanted to go on the offence just as much as Arthur, her friends were harmed when Le Lubrique’s soldiers set fire to a section of the kingdom. They burned down acres of farmland, dozens of homes with children and elderly. Luckily, nobody was killed in the process but many were harmed. Gwen wanted vengeance for them. She was a loyal ruler, loyal to her people.

“And we won’t,” Merlin bargained, “We won’t let them gain any more than they already have. No one here knows exactly what they want from us, but we do know that they’re willing to play dirty to get it,” he went on, talking with his hands to release some of the tension. “Let me be a spy and-”

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“No,” Arthur said firmly, daring Merlin to argue. “You stay right here with me. I will not have you risking your life for measly information.”

“It's not measly information, Arthur. It could be the difference between thousands dead and a simple treaty. We don’t know what Le Lubrique wants, but if we do, we could try to bargain with them. No blood needs to be shed,” Merlin tried, laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, forcing the man to look at him. “The queen wants me. She made that very clear. She won’t hurt me if she thinks I’m on her side.”

Arthur stared at Merlin, watching the sorcerer for any sign of hesitation. When he saw nothing of the sort Arthur sat down in his chair with a huff. Merlin really wanted to do this. Spy work is equal to a as rushing in with their flag flying and swords shining; both could end with Merlin buried six feet under. Even the implication had Arthur feeling like hell.

“How am I supposed to get anything done with you gone?” Arthur questioned genuinely, much to the snickers of the knights and ladies. “I can’t function without you,” this was whispered softly to Merlin, just for Merlin.

The anger and stress dissipated from Merlin’s eyes, his shoulders slacked in resignation. Realization slowly but surely dawned on the sorcerer. Arthur was simply afraid. The first king of Camelot was worried, on the brink of tears from it if anyone looked close enough. Merlin rolled his eyes, even after all these years Arthur was still undoubtedly the same.

Without a care for the other people in the room, Merlin sat down on Arthur’s lap, hands on the other’s chest to stabilize himself. Merlin leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, cradling his jaw like it was something breakable. “Everything will be alright, Arthur. I can protect myself just fine,” Merlin reassured in a careful voice, stroking Arthur’s cheek. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always feel empty without you, Merlin." Arthur pulled Merlin in for another kiss, this one deeper than the last. The two only pulled away for air and even then they went back for more. They couldn’t have enough of the other, constantly needing to feel the other person. A give and take only the other could provide. “What am I supposed to do if you don’t return?” Arthur asked quietly, resting his forehead on Merlin’s. “How am I supposed to live?”

“I promise to you, you’ll never have to find out. You’re stuck with me," Merlin smirked, running his fingers through Arthur’s hair. "Till death do us part, darling.”

Arthur wished he could believe Merlin’s promise. He swore on his mother’s grave that if Merlin fulfilled his promise that he’ll listen to everything Merlin has to say. He’ll never question Merlin again, never talk back to the warlock, shove his stubbornness down and never speak of it again. Arthur would have done anything for Merlin, only the man asked.

Not a month later Arthur received news in the form of a messenger. Le Lubrique had declared war on any who dared try to take the last living dragonlord from them. Merlin was theirs, they stated, the dragonlord belonged to dragon tamers. The two are vital for the continuation of dragons in the old religion. One to gain their trust, the other to keep the creatures in chains where they belong. Any and all who tried to take away their dragonlord would be faced with lethal consequences.

At that Arthur sent the messenger to be put into the stocks. Lethal consequences. Arthur will show them just how deadly he could be. Le Lubrique will pay, a month without Merlin was torture but if they dared to lay a hand on Merlin they would all burn. Gwen was absolutely right, Arthur required vengeance, he wanted them all to feel just what angering Camelot will do, what angering him will do.

And after making such a claim over Merlin’s life, Arthur will show them no mercy. Le Lubrique had declared war on Camelot and Arthur would answer tenfold.

------

It took around two weeks for Arthur to prepare for battle against a kingdom full of sorcerers. Another week was spent traveling with his soldiers over land and sea. Through it all he couldn’t help but be eaten alive by the nagging feeling that he was too late. That he would arrive only to find ash; bones if he was lucky. Day and night he was slowly being killed by the fact that he could very well be walking into his husband’s grave.

“He’s going to be okay,” Morgana reassured him one day as he leaned against the railing of their ship. They were perhaps an hour if not less from shore and Arthur hadn’t slept a wink. He could feel exhaustion mixing with the worry brewing in his mind, ready to overflow at a single inconvenience. His sword was once again at his side, the memory making everything so much worse. “Merlin will be teasing you for worrying so much if he were here.”

“But he isn’t, is he, Morgana?” Arthur said more harshly than he intended. “He could already be dead for all we know.” And it would be all Arthur’s fault, though he kept that notion to himself. By the look on Morgana’s face, she must have been thinking the same thing.

“It's not your fault, Arthur. Merlin chose to go on his own free will.”

“But I was the one who allowed it,” Arthur bit back, standing straight on his feet. “I sent him to his death.”

“You don’t know that,” Morgana crossed her arms. She should be used to Arthur’s self destructive behavior but even this was getting too much for her. “If what that messenger said was true, Merlin’s probably being pampered to death.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to have said because Arthur’s despair did not lighten. It seemed to have gotten worse. “What if he likes it better with Le Lubrique’s court? I’m no warlock, I can’t compete with their magic!”

“Arthur, you’re overthinking this,” Morgana was done with Arthur’s antics. She was ready to gag him and throw him in the ship’s makeshift prison cell until they had properly docked. “Merlin will run right into your arms the moment he sees you. I’m willing to bet on it, just you wait and see. Merlin loves-”

At Morgana’s silence, Arthur looked over to the direction of her gaze. Their ship was making speed but Arthur suddenly wished they had stopped right where they were and sink. The sight took Arthur’s breath away, making his blood go cold. Le Lubrique was burning and it looked like it had been burning for a very long time. There was no shoreside to speak of, just endless flickering flames. Where the castle should have been standing tall like a beacon was nothing but flames, ruble, and ash.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled even though his voice would not carry that far. “Merlin!” he called again, his heart sinking to his stomach. He wanted to drown at sea. He never wanted to reach the shore, to be lost in the ocean and never have to face what he already knew was there. The absence of what he knew should’ve been. “Merlin!” he shouted even though it was futile.

“Arthur, please!” Morgana struggled to pull him back from the side, afraid he’ll jump and swim the rest of the way himself. Or worse. “Just an hour, please. That’s all you have to wait for. You- you don’t know for sure.” Even Morgana was not so sure of her words, the picture in front of them was hard to paint as lies.

“I sent him to his death….” Arthur whimpered, “I killed him. I killed my husband.” The king sank to his knees, kneeling next to Morgana. The woman could barely hide the tears in her eyes at the sight. Everything she wanted to say, every reassurance died on her tongue. Whatever she said could very well be a lie and nothing more.

“We will make them pay, Arthur. We will make them pay for what they’ve done,” Morgana decided instead, pulling Arthur to his feet. “They won’t get away with this,” she stated sternly, much like their father when he had set his mind to something.

Less than an hour passed where the tension was so thick, one could slice through it with an unsharpened sword. All on board prepared for battle, despite the fact that the fires never stopped burning. Regardless of the fact that they might be too late to be of much good. The fighting had already begun long before they docked, a civil war where the same flag was flying on opposite sides.

“Go search for what is left, we’ll handle everything else,” Gwen informed Arthur when they stepped foot on the raging battlefield. She was dressed in chainmail armor just like everyone else, Camelot’s colors making her blend in with the searing fires. Her helmet was covering most of her face, giving her the appearance of a frightening soldier ready to take lives at a moment's notice. If Arthur was in a better mood, he would have been sorry for the folks who would come face to face with Gwen, the quick footed soldier instead of Gwen, the gentle, kind hearted high lady. At the moment he was on the verge of breaking and was ever so glad that Gwen was as cut throat as she was.

“Thank you,” Arthur told her from the bottom of his heart, “We should have listened to you from the start.”

“You followed your husband’s request, I can’t fault you for that.” She pulled Arthur in for a hug before sending him off. “Go find our king.”

Gwen didn’t have to tell Arthur twice, he was off before she finished speaking. The only thing is his mind was finding and holding Merlin. Nothing else mattered. Not the war thriving around him, swords clashing, arrows flying, Camelot’s red against the duality of Le Lubrique’s purples; nothing. The sorcerer was all that was worth living for and Arthur had a guess as to where Merlin would be.

The castle with Le Lubrique’s flag flapping against the blistering wind was as good as any place to start. Arthur climbed the hill that the palace stood on with lead in his stomach. It felt like every step he took he was merely walking into a trap. The castle should not still be in one piece, the battles around the structure should have made it no more than debris. However, it still stood on weak support.

Going against the nagging voice in the back of his head Arthur called out for his husband, “Merlin!” He walked closer to what would have been the courtyard. Around the perimeter were burning shrubbery that must have been a sight to behold at one point in time. Now there were nothing more than flares and the source of black smoke. The cobblestone center was stained with a drying red that Arthur did not want to face the source of. “Merlin!” Arthur sounded out in the courtyard.

“Arthur,” a hoarse voice groaned weakly. Arthur ran in the direction it came from, his sense of self preservation be damned. Merlin’s life could be on the line.

“Merlin, stay with me. Keep talking!”

“I-I’m over here,” Merlin hissed out helpfully, not informing Arthur where, “here” exactly was. Why did Arthur have to marry such a buffoon? Sure, no one could compare to Merlin, but at the very least he could have courted a smarter man.

“I’m coming, just stay where you are,” Arthur said hastily, rushing through the crumbling courtyard. “Don’t you dare die on me, I’ll kill you myself if you do!” he threatened, searching every nook and cranny for the warlock.

“That’s my line, you ass,” Merlin moaned in complaint, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Come up with your own catchphrases.”

Sometimes Arthur couldn’t believe his choice in a partner. Merlin was really making banter with him while possibly on the brink of death. He was definitely going to kill Merlin for this. “Make me, you bastard,” Arthur cursed, rounding a sharp corner that fell apart as he passed it. His breath was taken away for the second time that day when he saw Merlin on the ground.

They were in what must have been a parlor, the stained glass windows shattered on the ground as a number of the fine furniture burned to cinder. Arthur could imagine the room as something beautiful if he were to be invited over for tea. Now he just saw it as a smoking mess, something that he was glad was going up in flames. Though, without him or Merlin in it would be nice.

“There you are!” Arthur exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling on the floor next to Merlin’s frame. The sorcerer was half naked with sharp nail marks littered across his pale skin. Merlin’s neck was a raring red as if a hand had been wrapped around his throat which didn’t let up until he passed out from the lack of air. His form was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and tears, his rib cage stuck out in unpleasant angles. It looked like he hadn’t been fed in days. The sight made Arthur furious, but Le Lubrique’s court could wait. Arthur had to get Merlin to safety first.

“Took you long enough, you oaf,” Merlin hissed through his teeth, his lips chapped from dehydration. The corner of his mouth was bleeding as if he had been back handed across the face. Arthur reached out a hand to touch it, to make sure Merlin was real and not just some illusion made by a sick sorcerer. “Stop that, it already hurts to talk,” Merlin coughed, his eyes hazy.

“What happened?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, shrugging off his cape to throw over Merlin’s bare chest. It didn’t offer much coverage but it was protection against the flying embers. As a bonus it covered the markings that made Arthur’s skin crawl.

“I arrived under the guise of an envoy, just as we had planned. Everything seemed to be going fine, but they found out I was a spy early on. It was like they could read my mind, and I don’t doubt that they have the knowledge just for the spell,” Merlin explained, pulling Arthur’s cape close, the soft fabric offering a sense of shelter. “But they didn’t seem to care that I was there under ulterior motives. They were only glad to have me, mind and body,” Merlin shivered at the thought. “Le Lubrique’s queen wanted me to father her children.”

Merlin paused to let the thought sink in. He watched Arthur for his reaction. Arthur’s face twisted in a disgusted sneer, baring his teeth at the implication. The king clenched his fists until his nails dug deep enough into his palm to drag blood. Arthur wanted to feel the pain, something to ground him farther so he didn’t march off to kill someone who might already be dead.

“Le Lubrique wanted dragons as slaves, no king would be dumb enough to go to war with a kingdom with dragons on their side; no matter its size,” Merlin went on, his eyes glowing yellow at the notion. “They needed me as a stud.”

Arthur was repulsed at the notion that Le Lubrique would even conceive of such a thing. He must have looked ready to vomit because Merlin quickly added, “Le Lubrique’s queen even tried to make herself appealing to me when I denied her advances.” Arthur could only imagine what the woman did. Sylvy’s antics immediately came to mind. “She magicked her hair blonde and made her eyes your shade of blue.”

Arthur couldn’t help but darkly chuckle at that. Of all the ways to make Merlin fall for someone, blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t it. “Did she really think looking like me would get you to bed her?”

“No,” Merlin began again with a pained yelp that he tried to hide. “What she said was what made me comply.”

“What did she say?” Arthur growled, his earlier fury seeping back into his bloodstream. “What did that harlot say?”

“She threatened your life, Arthur. Your honor, your dignity, and reign as king. Everything,” Merlin got teary eyed at the memory. “The way she took her pleasure from me was painful, but it was nothing compared to the thought of what she said she would have done to you.”

Arthur was shaking with rage, his whole body trembled with the urge to tear Le Lubrique’s queen apart, limb by limb by his own bare hands. His hand hovered over his sword subconsciously. He wanted to kill her, needed to destroy her for what she’s done. For the fear she incited into Merlin. Arthur was bloodthirsty; he hoped that Gwen was just as demanding of blood.

“I wanted to kill her.” Merlin’s quivering voice brought Arthur back to the present. “Let me kill her, Arthur,” Merlin begged his husband, his lip beginning to bleed.

“Of course,” Arthur wiped Merlin’s tears away with his thumb, his hand caressing Merlin’s cheek gently. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you in a heartbeat.”

“Now, Arthur. I want to kill her now.” Merlin tried to sit up but the cry of pain had him falling right back to where he was. “She deserves to suffer.” His eyes lit up in a gold light, trying to magic his way upright but failed and fell down once more. The warlock’s body was in a worse state than he appeared, he shook in a cold sweat like an infection induced fever.

When Merlin began coughing fistfuls of blood at the strain Arthur was forced to act quickly. The king straddled Merlin’s legs, sitting down on his lap to keep Merlin on the ground. “Shhh, I’m here, Merlin. I’m safe, I’m alive,” Arthur barricaded Merlin with his arms. “I’ll bring you her head, I swear.”

“Let me do it, Arthur. I can kill her myself,” Merlin barked, another fit of coughs had him squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’ll bring her to you, alive. You can do anything you want with her court,” Arthur tried a different approach, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of Merlin in this state. “You can make her pay for what she’s done, make her feel the same pain. But please, Merlin,” Arthur begged, stroking Merlin’s face as tears fell on the man’s face. “Stay with me. Keep talking.”

Merlin opened his eyes at Arthur’s request, pain painting them a disorientating blue. “It hurts, Arthur. She did so, so many horrible things,” Merlin admitted in the burning parlor room. He reached out angry scarred arms to wrap around Arthur, pulling the king flush against his chest. “Everything aches, it feels like I’m being burned alive.” Merlin had Arthur in a death grip, there was barely enough room for either of them to breathe. It felt like home.

“They will pay, this I swear,” Arthur made an oath, kissing Merlin to make it true. “By the end of this day their bodies will be put on display for all to see.” He kissed down Merlin’s neck, burying Le Lubrique’s queen’s markings with his own. “Do you want her kingdom as well, Merlin? Say the word and it's yours.”

“I want you. I want her gone. I want her kingdom. I want it all,” Merlin’s mind was spinning with searing fever, screaming pain, and the constant pleasure of Arthur licking at his throat. He squeezed Arthur’s neck with his shaking arms. “Give me everything.”

In a burning parlor of a dying country with a queen and court that abandoned it, the first king of Camelot made a vow to the second king; an apology and a promise. Everything the licking fire was eating, everything destroyed by its own queen; the country, and the sea that surrounded it. The never ending farmlands, the people that survived, and the bones that would be buried by ash of its own making. The entire kingdom; dead, dying, or thriving. All of it would be Merlin’s.

All of it is Merlin’s.

“My king shall have everything.”

[coincidencemagnet]

Mass Effect 3 Modding Thoughts

I need to get better at modding Mass Effect so I can make my own "What if your choices actually mattered?" climax.

Because aside from Starchild being irritating, which is a whole separate essay, the thing I liked least about that ending was that it didn't feel like the individual choices mattered. All that mattered was being a completionist. I'm already a completionist (because I didn't buy a game to play half the content), so I was always going to have all the options at the end, especially if you're a Paragon completionist. Choosing to save the Rachni Queen or the Krogan squad, or choosing to cure the genophage or sabotage it came down to flavour, because it all comes out to about the same number of war assets, and that number is all that matters. And I think so much more could have been done, with the content that's already there and the numbers they were already collecting.

What I want to do is give each war asset a tag that marks it for Sword, Shield, or Hammer;

Sword:

Most of the ships, refuelling stations, basically any assets that help the fleet. Leviathans, probably.

Shield:

Engineering assets, material resources, Prothean data, Reaper research, anything that affects the fine tuning of the crucible, and also some of the ships being used as the actual Shield escort.

Hammer:

Ground troops. The Krogan, Kirahe's men, weapons upgrades and biotic amplifiers, whether or not you found the krogan mount DNA or Medigel updrade research. Anything that helps your ground forces.

Then for the actual climax:

[Destroy default ending. I came here to kill the Reapers, not to enact a plan that came out of the mouth of any man indoctrinated since the first contact war.]

Hammer assets affect the survival of your ground team. Also, your ground team shouldn't be restricted to your two squad-mates. While it makes sense for some unchosen squad-mates to remain on the ship, eg; Tali in engineering, Garrus in the main battery, or Edi being the ship, the likes of Ashley, Vega, and Javik really should be on the ground as par of or even leading their own squad if they're not in your group. Higher Hammer assets mean fewer deaths in a similar ranking order to ME2, with a high threshold of assets that can result in no squad deaths similar to the revised ending, but with your squad injured and unable to accompany you to the beacon. Could also have an effect on the survival of the Krogan; If they lose too many troops to the Hammer they may not be able to repopulate even with a cured genophage? No Normandy drive-by, get back into Sword where you belong.

Sword assets decide the survival of your fleet. Too low and everyone on the ships dies. The Quarians are screwed, the Turians are probably screwed, Hackett is screwed. Everyone on the Normandy? Screwed. Pretty low threshold required for the fate of whole races, higher threshold for the survival of your ship-bound squad-mates who waited too long hoping to hear from you. Again, random-ish deaths with a similar ranking system to ME2, with the possibility of everyone surviving if your assets in this category are high enough, resulting in the ship suffering minimal damage in the firefight over earth. Edi faces a double threat.

Shield assets decide how successfully the Crucible has been engineered to take out only the Reapers and not just anything using reaper tech or, worse, whatever technology it comes into contact with. This decided the damage to the Citadel, the Mass Relays, technological infrastructure as a whole, and the fates of Edi and the Geth (which will also influence the epilogue fate of the Quarians if they're working together). Low threshold for not damaging normal technology, higher threshold for minimal damage to the relays and other reaper-designed infrastructure, very high threshold for the survival of reper-based AI such as Edi and the upgraded Geth.

As for Shepard, personally I'm pretty okay with a 'they die next to Anderson, watching the Crucible fire' ending, but I'm open to a "Shepard at the memorial if the total from all three categories is high" ending, where high Hammer means they're not grievously injured on your run to the beam, high Shield means the tech in Shepard's body isn't wrecked by the Crucible and the Citadel is left intact enough to maintain life support, and high Sword means there's somebody left to hear a distress signal and come pick you up.

Given what I've seen other people do with the ending, I'm pretty sure all of this is doable I just don't know where to start.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 16)

As Diana and Akko fell asleep, elsewhere, a different duo were busy making sure they’d be awake and alert as possible, Winter waiting for her super-concentrated cup of black moss tea to brew with a grim look on her face, Qrow knocking back shots of alcohol.

“One to wake up, two for good luck, three for courage...” he muttered as he downed each shot, before he slammed the empty glass down on the table, accidentally cracking the bottom.

The maid kneeling in front of their table carefully took it into her hands. “I’ll get you a new glass, Mr. Branwen,” she said as she began to stand up.

Qrow held out his hand and stopped her. “No, don’t bother; I’ll just drink straight from the bottle when I get back.”

The maid nodded as she sat back down, nestled the glass in a nearly invisible pocket in her robes. “As you wish, Mr. Branwen.”

Winter’s cup finished brewing, she brought it up to her lips, her nose wrinkling as she got a whiff of its scent. She pinched her nose, and knocked it back in one go. “Eugh! Fuck me!” she gasped as she started hacking and choking.

The maid flinched. “Are you alright, Ms. Schnee…?”

Winter gagged and lurched forward, a hand on the table to keep her up. “I’m fine, I’m fine...” she coughed. “Just… it went down the wrong tube.”

The maid frowned. “That’s unfortunate. Would you like something to help soothe your throat, Ms. Schnee?”

Winter shook her head. “I’ll be fine, trust me...” she muttered, putting her cup down before beating her chest that hand.

The maid nodded. “As you wish, Ms. Schnee. Is there anything else I can help you two with?”

“No, nothing.” “I’m good.”

The maid nodded again. “Excuse me, I will take my leave now,” she said as she stood up, and bowed to the both of them. “I wish you both luck in your mission this morning.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Qrow said, shooting her a wink and a finger gun.

Her lips tugged slightly downward, before she recovered and resumed the small, tranquil smile of the Haven maids. “You’re welcome, Mr. Branwen,” she said, before she left the room, yelping as she suddenly stumbled.

“Are you alright?” Winter asked.

“I’m fine!” the maid said as she caught herself on the door frame. “Thank you for the concern, Ms. Schnee,” she said, giving them one last smile before she closed it behind her.

As it clicked shut, Winter sighed and shot Qrow a dirty look. “Must you flirt with every single attractive hostess, waitress, and maid we meet...?”

“Yes, because it’s actually fun to be a dirty, drunk old man,” Qrow replied. “You should try it in a couple of decades; with the current cultural trends, you’d probably be equally likely to be slapped then as I am now.”

“I’d really rather not,” Winter said flatly, before she returned to her futon, opened a metal box with a collection of worn hair pins all lined up in a row, and a mirror under the lid. She spent a moment hovering her hand over them, before she picked out one that that looked like the Shiny Rod, except thinner and longer.

“Really, Ice Queen?” Qrow said as stood up and looked for his shirt.

“I thought it’d be appropriate for the occasion,” Winter replied as she tied her hair into a bun.

“Then don’t go blaming me if some Grimm start swarming us thinking it’s the real thing, just shrunken for portability,” Qrow said as he found and struggled to put his shirt back on.

Winter snorted as she carefully slid the pin in. “Please, Qrow—with our luck, the horde will come before they notice what it seems to look like.” She carefully, artfully teased out some strands of her hair, double-checked her appearance in the mirror, before she smiled and carefully shut the lid.

“You ready to go attend to your royal duties, your highness?” Qrow said as he grabbed his weapon and his flask, clipped them both to his belt.

“Let’s go see what’s threatening to destroy all of Remnant this time...” Winter muttered as she got up.

The two of them left their room and the guest house, Qrow frowning as he went down the stairs, Winter smiling as she took a deep breath. “Ahh, fresh, cold, and definitely not recycled over and over again… nothing beats Mistral mountain air, I tell you...” she said as they walked down the concrete paths, sunny and cheerful despite the fact that it was nearly pitch black and freezing out.

“I don’t know, I’ve always rather enjoyed a nice, warm sea breeze from Menagerie...” Qrow muttered as he hugged himself.

Winter shrugged. “To each their own, I suppose!” she said. She exchanged the smile for a serious expression as they reached the docks, a soldier with a large scroll walking up to meet them.

“Status report?” Winter asked.

“Grimm activity has gone down significantly since Initiation,” the soldier replied, setting up a projection for their benefit. “The bait seems to have finally completely lost its potency, and the Grimm themselves seem to understand there won’t be any more vulnerable initiates for them to hunt.”

“And what about the new giant hole in the ground?” Qrow asked.

“Still there, no detectable changes, and it’s a damn good thing the students’ report mentioned they didn’t get a confirmed kill of the petra gigas.”

“It’s still alive…?” Winter asked.

The soldier nodded. “Exactly. We tried to get in for a closer look, especially because its body looked very different from the surrounding rock, but then it started hurling boulders at us and we had to turn back. It was a good thing it wasn’t intent on completely bringing us down, but now we’re worried about why exactly it was content to just chase us off.”

“And let me guess: the nevermore at the castle is still alive, too…?” Qrow asked.

The soldier nodded. “It looked incredibly injured and had burn scars all over its body, but the rest of the Grimm are repopulating the location now that it’s stopped burning. Also, it’s perched on the tower the students destroyed, and is seemingly keeping watch on the cliff face where they found the tunnel which is... concerning.”

“Well, someone better go tell the staff it won’t be a good idea to be sending team AWRD back there any time soon,” Qrow said. “Swear I’ll go sober for the rest of my life if those bastards and the grave lord aren’t just itching for a round two...”

“Anything else to report, soldier?” Winter asked.

The soldier shook her head. “No ma’am. Everything else in the Hills is business as usual, especially since batch 7 was the only one where things got really… exciting.”

“Well, that’s certainly one way to put it.” Winter replied. “Thank you, soldier, you’re dismissed,” she said as she and Qrow stepped past her.

The soldier tensed up. “Ah—ma’am: you two aren’t seriously going out there, alone, without any air support, are you...?”

“Soldier, you just said there’s two very real threats to airships of any kind out there, right?” Winter asked. “And I’m assuming that ship was yours?” she gestured to a docked ship with cracks and a damaged wing.

“Yes, and yes, ma’am...”

“Then I suppose we can both agree that sending out any ships outside of a transport would just be a waste of the vehicles, and the lives of the people on there, wouldn’t it?”

The soldier nodded. “But are you two sure you two can handle either of those, alone?”

Qrow stopped and turned around, saying, “Look, lady, they wouldn’t have deployed us together if the mission seemed even the slightest bit possible.”

“We’re veteran hunters, soldier: we’ve got this,” Winter said, putting a hand on the soldier’s shoulder before she continued on.

The two of them boarded a waiting airship, riding in the open-air undercarriage. As it took off and headed for the hills, they loaded themselves up with the vast quantities of high explosives, ammunition, and assorted excavation equipment waiting on the sides, before they passed the time standing by the hatch, watching the clouds and tops of trees go by.

“You think one of these puppies are going to arm themselves just like that, blow up the ship, and kill us all before we get there?” Qrow asked, holding up one of the demolition charges.

“Nah, that won’t be unlucky enough,” Winter replied. “Maybe a swarm of nevermores will come meet us, steal all of the explosives to figure out what to do with them, then one of them will accidentally arm an explosive, blow up the ship, and kill us all. That way, some day in the future, Mistral and its surrounding territories are going to be terrorized by nevermore suicide bombers.”

Qrow nodded. “Yeah, that sounds much more like it.”

The two of them continued to theorize about how badly Qrow’s semblance could screw them over, until the pilot’s voice came over the intercomm. “Approaching the reported danger zone; we can try and drop you off as close to the landing sight as we possibly can, but this ship can only take so many boulders chucked at it.”

“Don’t bother,” Winter said as she pressed the console on their side. “Get yourselves back to Haven, and either wait for us to call for pickup, or for them to declare us MIA.”

“It’s a long walk and a lot of Grimm before you reach ground zero, folks… you sure about that?”

“Yes,” Winter replied. “Besides: they may have stingers to hold you still this time.”

The pilot shuddered. “Alright, alright, I get it… best of luck out there, you two.”

Winter smiled. “Thanks.”

The airship slowed down and began to bank, Winter and Qrow looked at each other before they jumped out, and to the canopy below. The pilots saw the glyphs being summoned, heard the shots ringing in the air, but lost sight of them when they breached the trees, started transforming into animals.

Qrow began to fly past the branches with his new wings, Winter hopped from bough to bough on her new paws, the two of them landing safely on the leaf-covered ground below. Shortly after, Grimm swarmed their location, moving shadows in the darkness, their blood red eyes darting about everywhere, snarls and growls filling the air as they smelled the scent of human, detected their auras, but only found two terrified animals, a black crow and a white-furred fox.

Eventually, the Grimm gave up, grumbling and snorting in annoyance as they went back to lurking in the woods, looking for prey or keeping watch over their territories.

“Don’t you just love magical animal disguises?” Qrow thought as they began to head towards the crater, his words echoing in Winter’s head.

“Indeed,” Winter thought back as she ran and jumped through the bushes and the roots. “Good for subterfuge, and getting around quickly and effortlessly whilst still loaded with enough munitions to level a city block.

“Almost makes me wish every huntsman and huntress got the opportunity to use it,” she thought as she squeezed under a fallen log.

“You realize that could go seriously wrong pretty fast with a sudden rush of perverted and criminal animals sneaking into places where they shouldn’t, right?” Qrow asked as he perched on top of it, waiting for Winter to reappear.

“Which is why I said ‘almost,’” Winter replied as she poked her head out, scratched and dug at the ground with her tiny paws to help pull herself out.

“You really should have chosen a form that can fly, Ice Queen,” Qrow said as he looked at her.

“If I only get one shot at getting an animal form, it better be something I’d be happy being for the rest of my life,” Winter replied as she got out, and trotted to a boulder blocking their way.

“And a teeny, tiny fox permanently stuck on land and taking a whole lot of time extra time to get around is somehow better than a bird?” Qrow asked as he flew over it, watched Winter climb and hop up the ridges.

“Yes!” Winter replied as made it to the top, gazed at the terrain before her, then jumped off and landed into a pile of leaves.

Whoosh!

Dried and rotting leaves flew up into the air, and fell off Winter as she trotted forward, looking as proud as an arctic fox could be. “Look at me! I’m adorable!”

Qrow flew off the boulder, and hovered to a stop next to her. “And that’s supposed to help you hunt Grimm and help keep Remnant safe how?”

“It doesn’t, really, I’ll admit, but let’s be fair: how many ear scritches, random treats, and times people did NOT violently shoo you away with a broom have YOU gotten?” Winter asked, giving Qrow a smug look.

Qrow sighed, in as much as his beak would allow him. “Okay, fine: you’ve got great fringe benefits. But just the fringe benefits. You still don’t have the ability to scout and case an area quickly,” he said as he took flight once more.

Winter chuckled. “And you say that like I should envy you for always having recon duty,” she thought as she started running through the trees.

“You Schnees really do have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Qrow asked as he swooped around a particularly thick tree.

“Yes. Yes we do.” Winter replied as she hoped through a hole some other critter had bored through it long ago.

They stopped as they reached the crater, standing within the ring of trees before the ground suddenly turned into a dramatic drop into rubble, upturned earth, and crushed and collapsed trees.

Qrow whistled, or rather, squawked softly. “Wow. This is some serious collateral damage that thing is capable of.”

“Makes you wonder what else it can do once Akko and Ruby unlock its secrets, too...” Winter replied as she scanned the area, before she stopped, and frowned. “… Aside from giving petra gigas new, special material for their bodies, at least...”

The two of them gazed at the petra gigas sitting in the center of the crater, just a boulder without any limbs, but the smooth, glassy sheen of its surface, and the spikes jutting out here and there gave them pause. For the moment, it just seemed to be intent on finding more of the rocks transformed by the blast, lifting up large batches of rubble into the air, floating what it wanted towards it while throwing away the rest.

Geist and all varieties of gigas weren’t known to be very expressive, but it wasn’t hard to imagine this particular specimen scowling and grumbling under its metaphorical breath.

“Did you ever see anything like this ever happen to a petra gigas before?” Winter asked.

“No, and given the amount of shit I’ve seen in my life, this honestly really worries me,” Qrow replied. “Both because it’s new, and also because the Red Queen will definitely have both our asses if we don’t leave enough of it behind to study.”

“How do you think we’re supposed to fight it?” Winter asked.

“SOP, and work it all out from there, I suppose,” Qrow said. “Come on, let’s get back in the woods, start setting up a trap, blow it to kingdom come with everything we’ve got.”

“You think it might work?” Winter asked.

“Nope! But at the very least we’ll definitely know whether or not to start running and come back later with more huntsmen and huntresses.”

“Good point.”

The two of them stopped as the petra gigas happened to levitate some rocks in their general direction, noticed the two animals that seemed to be gazing right at it. Winter and Qrow started acting “natural,” the petra gigas’ one eye resumed examining the rocks in its telekinetic grip, ignoring them.

Then, it did a double take.

“… I think it may have realized you don’t really see adorable, fluffy arctic foxes this far down south...” Qrow thought.

“And I think you’re right!” Winter replied as she watched the petra gigas dropped the smaller of the rocks and the debris, started bringing the largest of the boulders back to it and above its body. “You know, times like these, I really regret not choosing a more widespread, common species of fox.”

“Eh, to be fair, the fringe benefits are pretty good,” Qrow said as he and her transformed back into their human forms.

Boulders started to fly towards them at devastating speed, they split and just avoided getting crushed, started running around the rim of the crater.

Black, twisted limbs with claws started to erupt from the petra gigas main body, possessing the larger chunks of smooth, glassy rock from the pile nearby. It formed arms, slamming its fists into the ground and pushing itself upward before it built itself a pair of legs to match, crushed rubble underfoot until it compacted a stable ground for itself.

It looked around, caught sight of Qrow flying towards it, sword in one hand, a beeping satchel charge in the other, and a big, wide smile on his face.

[carrowbrown]

DBZ Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to it. All the content in this story is written purely for fun. Please enjoy. ----

Chapter One: I was serious three planets ago.

The bug-eyed created pointed one of its fingers to the screen. "So what about this planet?"

Captian Taiji walked over, his serpent-like tail slithering on the floor behind him as he peered at the monitor of the helm officer. His talon flicked through the details of the planet that were collected from a probe that had come a few weeks prior to their arrival.

"Low population for a planet that size," he mused. "Am I reading these scans correctly? Plenty of water and vegetation, but low life forms?"

"The researchers think there was a recent war of sorts. You can see it in the craters all over the surface, but," the helm officer brought up another close screen of the craters, "if you look closely, you can see that they aren't the result of meteorites." He leaned back to look at the captain. "You think the population is open to trading?"

The captain frown, his attention fixed on the display of the blue planet. "Wasn't there something about this planet in the galaxy logs? The name seems familiar."

"Perhaps." The helm officer flew across the console keys, pulling up the galactic records. After skimming through the scrolling text, he pointed a finger to one line. "It says that Lord Freeza and his father were killed here by a Sayjin."

The captain's scaly browns went up. "That's right. I remember those reports. A Sayjin… That's interesting. Any active tags to show they're still there?"

"No, I double checked." The humanoid-insect leaned back in his chair. "Unless they learned how to deactivate them."

"Shame. Who knew how much they'd be needed after they were eradicated. We're lucky we found the one we did." He studied the planet display again, his tail flicking to and fro as he stared in silence. "Prepare for entry. We'll open for trade and see what we can find out. If we're lucky, maybe the Sayjin did some repopulation activities."

The helm officer chuckled, the sound coming out in a series of clicks and hisses. "Of course." He turned and punched in codes as the lights on the ship changed from their calming blue to green: the color to let the crew know to prepare for landing.

* * * * *

Five years.

Five years since the androids were destroyed. Five nice, peaceful, years humans used to up the pieces and put their lives back together. Sure, there had been hard times in some places with food shortages or small domestics, but they weren't that urgent in the large scheme of things. Bulma herself was content with the current state of things. Could they be better? Of course. Would they? In time.

Between her and Trunks efforts, life returned to a sibilance of normalcy. A slow return, but steady. Thanks to Capsule Corporation technology, getting supplies and much-needed rations to different people around the world made relief work for more deprived areas possible. People still flinched when a shadow passed overhead, but the children that were running about didn't have such reactions. They were growing up in better times and that was all that mattered to the blue haired scientist.

Bulma leaned back in her office chair, rubbing her eyes with a sigh. A look at the clock showed she'd been there for the better part of six hours. As if by magic, the moment she saw the time her stomach growled.

I'm turning into my father, she mused, standing and walking out of the office. Days would pass and he'd forget to feed himself if it wasn't for mother.

It made her sad to think of her parents, gone now. So many of those on earth were lacking parents or key family members. Her heart went out to Chichi, living with her father in the middle of the woods with her husband and son gone. Bulma felt lucky in that, she still had her son.

Walking into the kitchen, a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the coffee maker caught her attention. She picked it up, looking at the small and neat handwriting of her son.

Hi mom. Looked like you were in the zone. I left you some breakfast. Going to Pepper City to see about fixing a generator. Back for dinner. Trunks.

"Such a good boy." She smiled at the note, placing it on the table before opening the fridge to see what creation Trucks had left her. Bright and gifted he was, he still has single-man habits when it came to the concept of foods. Nachos for dinner, beans on toast, and take-out where Trucks' idea of 'making dinner.' Bulma spotted the left-over pizza and felt her stomach growl.

Putting it into the microwave, she mused over the change of her son. Since his return, Trunks spent more time taking care of her than her taking care of him. It never reached a fussy level, but she noted how close he stayed to home.

He never elaborated about his time in the past. When he did speak about it, it was too cut and dry. Too technical. Like a lab report. Something had happened that shook him, but hell if she could guess what it was. She hoped one day Trunks would be willing to share it with her.

"Maybe one day," she said, speaking herself. "You definitely picked up some of your father's manors."

Bulma hoped that Vegeta had been a good father figure for Trunks… or at least what he thought was a good one. Placing a hand over her heart, she mentally pushed away the pangs of loneliness. Whoever had said time heals all wounds never loved a Sayjin Prince. Vegeta hadn't been the greatest of lovers, but he'd been perfect for her. Equal in ego, wit, power—in their own ways—and passion.

The beeping brought her out of her thoughts and she looked back to the microwave—

—it was still cooking.

The beeping happened again and she looked up to find one of the droids she made was floating overhead while flashing at her. She blinked at it, completely taken by surprised by it. She'd made it over thirty years ago when the first Sayjin had landed on earth.

She'd made it to give warning before there was another landing.

Snapping out of her daze she punched a button on the droid and pulled it down to look at the screen on it. The image showed a ship that was slowly lowering into the atmosphere. It wasn't like one of the pods that she'd seen and much larger than the Namek ship she'd piloted. There were what she suspected to be weapons on the ship, but they were pointed up and away from the surface of the earth.

For now.

Oh please, kami, Bulma thought. Let this be a peaceful group.

She rushed out of the kitchen and do her speeder, her food in the microwave forgotten. Punching in the coordinates for the estimated landing site, Bulma guided the speeder up and let the navigation take over. She wasn't sure how much good she could do, but given she was one of the few people with experience in speaking to alien species, she wanted to do what she could with this new and unknown group.

And it would be a lie to say she wasn't a little excited about it.

* * * * *

The crew scurried about the ship like an ant colony. The security prepped and handed out ki-blaster to those venturing outside. By the main door, a group of environmental scientist in light blue bodysuits checked, rechecked, and triple checked the readings of the planet's atmosphere.

"It's safe," one said, over the ship intercom. "You can breathe the air. I don't recommend drinking the water or eating anything until we have it tested. No telling what's developed on this planet."

"Understood. At least we don't have to greet them wearing the suits," said the captain. "Landing crew ready?"

"Yes, sir." The helm officer looked at his screen and tilted his head at the monitor. "There is a message from engineering about one of the turbo engines."

The captain grimaced at the announcement. "Stall for me. I want to stretch my legs a bit before having to deal with the head engineer." He wanted to step outside and breath in planet-created air and bath in the warmth of a sun. All the crew did.

"Yes, sir," The officer said as he turned his attention back to his own monitor.

Rolling his shoulders, the Captain went back to his chair to pluck his modest officer jacket up and worked it on. He took a moment to smooth it out, attempting to be as presentable as possible. Often these visits went well, but normally they were planets that were used to outside visitors. If records were correct, the only real outside visitors this sphere had gotten were Sayjins and that was not always the best introduction to life in space. He nodded to two others on the ship, his second in command and communication officer.

Most planets understood Galatic Common.

The trio made their way towards the entrance of the ship where three security officers stood waiting for them. At the sign of the three officers, they straightened to attention and saluted.

"At ease," the captain said. Once the men relaxed, he added, "I want this to be a peaceful mission. We don't know the culture, the customs, or even if they speak Galactic Common. For all we know, we've landed on a holy area and started a war. So," he gave each crew member in front of him a look, "best behavior. We want to trade and stay planetside for as long as the welcome lasts."

They all answered with a curt nod.

The computer by the door beeped, a computerized voice saying, "Door opening. Please watch your step."

The captain pulled in a breath and released it. "Let's make friends."

The computer unlatched all the safeties as the first whoosh of fresh air rushed into the ship. Security took the lead and once the all-clear sounded on the displayed of his scouter.

Taiji stepped out, barely suppressing a groan as natural warmth touched his scaly skin. His head tilted back and eyes closed and he soaked in the feel of the air all around him. He'd spent too long under a sun-lamp and not enough time in the sun.

"Captian," one of the security men said, "something's coming."

Looking around, Taiji picked out a growing dot in the distance. He watched it, assuming it to be a vessel of sorts. "No sudden moves. Let's see what happens."

They watched the large Capsule Corps car slow and coming to a stop several yards from them. A female shaped figure stepped out and stood there. She didn't move or speak. Instead, the creature did the same thing they were doing.

Watching.

Before he could take a step toward the figure, the second in command nudged him and jerked his head down the way they had come. The captain looked back to the figure marching over to him down the corridor and visibly cringed.

Apparently, the helm officer couldn't stall for very long. But seeing the look on his chief engineer's face, Taiji wouldn't have been able to either. Horrific storm clouds looked cuddly next to the promise in those dark eyes.

In truth, her appearance was cousin to the female that awaiting outside with only a few differences in her build. Sturdy and made for a warmer climate. Her hair was black and matted even though it was tightly braided in a bun. She wore engineer coveralls with easy to see patches and stains on it from oil and who knew what else. Her face was a little messy from smearing oil across it, but other than that, one would say the female was pretty indeed.

"Captain," The female said, speaking in her native language. It was a composition of clicks, low single syllables, that all merged together into something musical. "I would really like it if you would listen to me."

"I always listen to you, Veta," Taiji said in Galactic Common, trying to keep his tone light. "Now is not th-"

She cut him off. "You don't. Because if you did listen to me three planets ago, we could have actual turbo coils and not the makeshift ones I've made from the buffer panels." The female jerked a thumb towards the front of the ship. "Now we can't leave."

That got the Captain's attention and he frowned at Veta. "What do you mean we can't leave?"

"I mean we are stuck here," she said, pointing a finger to the ground, "until I can make actual replacement coils. Or buy them. The material I was using wasn't meant to transmit the type of energy that the engine needs to function. It was just a bandage over a wound. We're lucky the ship didn't explode on entry." She stopped to peek outside the door and nodded at the scenery. "At least we landed on a nice planet and not a piece of shit."

Taiji frowned, staring hard at his engineer. "How long would it take you to fix it?"

Veta shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. Depends if I can find what I need on this planet or not. Could be a few weeks or a few months."

Buju spoke up, speaking in Veta's native tongue, though it lacked the musical quality, "You can't be serious."

Taiji's chief leveled a glare at the communications officer. "I was serious three planets ago."

The two looked at each other for a long moment while the others around them watched nervously. The Captain sighed in defeat and rubbed his three eyes. "Fix what you can, and I will see what can be done about obtaining the materials you need."

"Thanks." She gave him a curt nod and walked off back to the engine room, a monkey-like tail swayed in time with her walk.

Taiji pulled in a breath and released it. "One step at a time."

Looking back out to the female figure that was standing before the ship, the Captain recomposed himself before walking towards her. His second in command and communication officer came with him with a much heavier air about them than they'd originally had. The Captain kept himself looking has unintimidating as he could while walking over to the native who did not seem overly alarmed by his being there. A curious thing.

Once he was close enough, he bowed his head in what he hoped would be a respectful gesture here. "My name is Captain Taiji. We come to you in peace and in need. I'm afraid we're stranded here."

* * * * *

Author note: Hey all! If you made here, then I hoped you like the start of what I've done so far. I haven't written fanfiction in a long time and I wanted to pick this story up again. If you like it, let me know! Feedback is always welcomed-motivating-and appreciated.

[felassan]

What's wrong with Jill?

oh dear.. so this is like this whole thing.. not really sure where to start. under a cut for length and because the content is negative I guess. this kind of turned into a ramble sorry, might come back and add to it. 

[msg either refs this post or this post]

so first of all Gil is a total sweetie, funny, a fast learner, intuitive, supportive, quick-witted, smart, thoughtful, hard-working, adaptable, an amazingly talented engineer - he was taking apart shuttle engines and putting them back together at age 10, without any schooling! he had a tough start to life as, in his words, an undocumented street kid (whose dad died before he was born), and by his own admission he has very few close ties and no real sense of purpose. he makes an irreversible decision (travelling to a whole new galaxy) thinking maybe he’ll find his true calling and purpose in life there. at the start of the game he considers Jill his one (and only) true friend. he’s never had absolute trust and safety in a romantic relationship.

Gil is already lacking in content compared to other Tempest crew-members and especially to other LIs, both as an LI and as a non-romanced character. at least Suvi is at the front of the ship by the galaxy map, and has additional lines as you do stuff like scanning planets. in that regard she’s prominent for a non-squad LI, whereas Gil is tucked away at the back end of the ship, outta sight outta mind. and, sadly for Gil, much of his already-limited screen-time and word-budget is spent on.. Jill. 

that wouldn’t exactly be a problem in and of itself, but.. like, in early conversations Gil and I had about Jill as we were getting to know each other, I genuinely wondered whether she was a real person or some kind of personification or alter-ego he made to deal with insecurities and things that trouble him. legit, she sounded to me like an insidious mean voice in his head. I mean really, ‘Gil’ and ‘Jill’?

she teases Gil that he makes her job harder, says that if he’s not making babies, he’s part of “the problem”, determinedly pressures him about his “civic duty as a man”. Ryder can straight-up say to Gil, that sounds disrespectful and hurtful. you know, the issue isn’t with that kind of friendship which are heavy on the teasing bants, lord knows I have close friendships with other LGBTQ-spectrum people where we express our affection for one another by giving each other shit and trading insults. Jill’s dynamic with Gil though.. I dunno, I just find it kind of gross and it made me feel uncomfortable. it feels low-key homophobic and emotionally abusive? almost like reproductive coercion. Gil says it’s alright because she’s like family and supports him unconditionally. I can’t presume to know the circumstances of Gil and Jill’s friendship in the Milky Way, what they’ve been through and supported each other through together, but I do know that being family or close friends isn’t an excuse for being a dick that piles on guilt and reduces your worth as a person and contributor to society to whether or not you breed, and that sometimes the worst kind of abuse and shitty behavior is done to people by their family.. Gil thinks Jill is amazing - he clearly holds her in high regard. meeting Jill, especially as a Gil-romancing Scott, is more than just a “meeting the best friend” scene. it’s Gil’s equivalent of a “meeting the parents/family” moment. he’s hoping that Scott and Jill will like each other, and that Jill will approve. what Jill says to him he clearly takes on board. it weighs on and sticks with him. I just felt like, this is your one true friend in all the world Gil? someone who says this stuff to you? my heart broke. he respects her and she has influence over him, and that’s the kind of shit she says to him.

Jill heads the Colonial Repopulation Committee. in the future. girl can’t offer same-sex and mixed-species couples which don’t involve an asari, advice and information on their child-having (and child-rearing, if they are so inclined) options? we do that already for same-sex couples in 2017. girl can’t do her job without being creepy and pressurey? the AI isn’t going to putter into extinction because a few people choose not to procreate. is she going to come harass my Roo Ryder about “the biological imperative” for not wanting children ever and for dating (universe depending) a turian female or a male angara? is she gonna come at Suvi the lesbian and try the same shtick? does she go around pressuring all colonists this way about reproduction, or just Gil (actually, either scenario is gross)? does she care about how the way she phrases things might make infertile or trans colonists feel - and we know there are trans people among the colonists? she would have been better written as part of an AI Family Planning Committee and not taking up so much of Gil’s already limited arc. the “boosting the batter” (gross) [human baby] issue is an ‘obstacle’ for Scotts who romance Reyes or Vetra, or Saras who romance Suvi or Vetra or Jaal, hell even for Scotts/Saras who don’t romance anyone or who romance Peebs (an asari child isn’t going to boost human baby numbers). yes, all Ryders can meet Jill, but the issue really arises exclusively as part of the only Tempest m/m LI’s arc. someone elsewhere phrased it, “making the main m/m romance in the game, strangely, about the dreams and aspirations of a woman.” I don’t believe that the AI only allowed sign-ups with the mandate that upon securing a home in Andromeda, you must all have at least one biological child.

the issue isn’t the plotline of a same-sex couple (Scott and Gil) or a gay man (Gil) becoming dads/a dad, or with a child having a multi-parental set-up like Gil-Scott-Jill, or with gay people and their opposite-sex friends (straight or gay. I don’t think we know what Jill’s sexuality is) agreeing to have a biological child together. nothing wrong with any of those scenarios. it’s how it was handled in the game and Jill’s weird, invasive, reductionist, homophobic, mean treatment of Gil. the plotline should have been handled better. maybe Jill turkeybastes herself using donor sperm from the AI sperm and egg bank (no way they don’t have a sperm and egg bank, tbh) and Gil’s psyched to be an uncle and it gets him thinking about what he wants in life and where he’s going. maybe Jill is explicitly a lesbian and some of her comments are self-referential and the story is about a gay man and his lesbian friend becoming parents. maybe Gil decides he wants to have a child at some point in the future, and Jill as the head of that Committee talks him (or him and Scott) through what options they have. maybe Gil finds his purpose and calling in life as part of Ryder’s team in some way - yknow, he has value to Ryder and the AI for his worth as an awesome engineer, as an example. maybe Gil has scenes where he talks about how the things Jill says make him feel and then goes on to question her treatment. 

I just.. I wanted to tell Jill, um, excuse you, you’re a bit of a jerk, back off, and tell Gil, Gil, have children if you want to and if you’re ready and in the way that you want to, you don’t have to if you don’t want to but if you do want to that’s totally fine, and never forget that you have other supportive friends in Ryder and the Tempest crew (like Vetra and Suvi), and that your worth to Ryder and the AI and to yourself as a person is not defined by or dependent on whether or not you have biological children but by so much else.

someone on bsn phrased it like,

But the arc kind a fizzles into: Jill wants me to feel bad about being gay and thus not able to have babies, Jill is a female, jill wants my sperm, Jill is going to have my baby to make my being here not detrimental to the Initiative, I have value to this initiative because you’re dating me Scott, and Jill is going to be pregnant with my baby! Which… was kind of not enjoyable to experience.

I didn’t even romance Gil and felt uncomfortable with Jill and the whole plotline. Imagine if Jill was your lesbian engineer and gil was the committee head friend, or if suvi had a male friend called Buvi, and this Gil or Buvi pressured these gay women about their civic duties as incubators or to submit to invasive egg donation procedures.. Gross. Still gross when its a woman doing it to a gay man.

will say that their dynamic changes some based on whether Jill is LGBTQ or not, but we don’t know whether she is. and this isn’t a “Gil doesn’t want to be a father”, post, it’s me taking issue with Jill’s weirdness and way she treats him and things that stem from that.

check out this post by @homoryder.