#merlin: that's a whole wife right there

[achillesuwu]

Au where merthur have soulmate identifying mark but merlin is the only one who know they are because if Arthur knew he would find out about his magic 👀 (arthur's mark being a beautiful dragon mainly on on his back but its tall is draped on his torso, a wing stretch on his right shoulder, another end on his hip and its head rest upon his stomach. As if it were jealousy protecting him. its scale are of a blue so dark it nearly look black. It has golden eye and tread of gold on is horn, gold shimmer on its body highlighting its scale at some place.

It screams powerful sorcerer.)

And thus it doesn't change anything from the show. Merlin doesn't tell him not even at the very end (Merlin's mark is a smaller red dragon with its head on his shoulder and who is is holding itself on his shoulder)

It would be very angsty but also SO FUNNY if in a post return futur where arthur (Gwen, the knights) are very confuse and lost but luckily for them there exist multiple center for "People who got Teleported at the wrong place/Bought back from the dead? We are here to help!/ your five yo drank a weird potion? No problem! Etc" basically Magic help center.

Just imagine basic social worker sorcerers who tries to do their job at 3 am and see THE Emrys mark ™ on a random dude and they are like *gasp*.

Them : what the fuck

Arthur :???

Them :WHAT THE FUCK

the others :????

Them : we are calling your soulmate RIGHT NOW. WHAT THE FUCK should I call the government too???? I'M NOT PAY ENOUGH FOR THIS.

Arthur : my???

Them : YOU. DO NOT MOVE IF I LOSE YOU I'M DEAD. DEAD.

You can imagine arthur pendragon pacing like a 13 years old stressed before an oral presentation because even if he was afraid then thought he globally didn't really care about his soulmate. He realised that it wasn't so much that he didn't care but he thought it would simply never be so he just... Kinda forgot about it. Now he just can not put it away because is soulmate IS coming and WHERE IS MERLIN WHEN HE NEEDS HIM (he is blocking any thoughts about Merlin potential dead thank you very much)

(Gwen is currently finding the situation extremely funny because she figured out in 5x13 and she is 80 yo (in a younger body but still) . And she is waaaayyyyyy to old to see her former husband stay in his denial.

Leon is 78 years old and he is slowly recognising the dragon in question that look very much like Merlin's family crest. He is looking at his wife in a very conspiracy way.

Gwaine is currently not really giving a damn about the whole soulmate thing. What do you MEAN you can send messages to people in less that a second?!?!?

Elyan would usually not give a damn but he is very much not happy ™ to find out that his sister (first) husband had a soulmate mark who isn't dead and he is glaring at Arthur but he is also getting a hug from gwen so it doesn't look menacing at all.

Perceval (57) is right behind Gwaine but he is currently watching himself in the mirror because seeing his younger self again is weird asf

Meanwhile Lancelot is talking with the assistant (on the verge of a break down because they are going to see the GOD OF MAGIC OH MY GOD) about magical history

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Can’t Spell Enemy Without Friend

Ao3

“We can’t keep doing this,” Draco whispered, head over his shoulder as it was his turn to be the lookout. “Harry’s going to catch us, and I don’t want to see his face.”

“I know,” Ron groaned, the sound muffled by his head in his hands. “Me either, but what choice do we have?”

“We could come clean,” Draco hedged, biting his lip. Merlin knew he didn’t want to do that either, but they couldn’t keep going as is. Harry was getting suspicious.

“I don’t know,” Ron grimaced. “If you think Harry will be smug, you haven’t spent enough time around Hermione.”

“No thanks,” Draco drawled. Granger might be able to hold a conversation with him, but they didn’t get along and no amount of time was going to change that. “I’ll pass. You spend enough time with your wife for the both of us.”

Ron lifted his head just to flip him off. Rude. Absolutely no decorum.

“We might be overthinking this,” Ron said.

“You’d have to use your brain in the first place to overthink.”

“Piss off,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just saying, what if we are making this bigger than it needs to be? They might not even react.”

“After all the valid shit I’ve said about you over the years?” Draco scoffed. “No one is going to believe that we’re friends.”

“You never know, they might—wait—what do you mean valid?”

Draco smirked. “Keep up Ronald, will you?”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“My charm, obviously.”

“That’s not it.”

“My dashing good looks.”

“That’s definitely not it.”

“My sharp wit.”

“You’d have to have wit in the first place.”

Draco lapsed in maturity as his face twisted in a mockery of Ron’s words. “You think you’re clever.”

“One of us has to be.”

The day he willingly became friends with Ron was clearly a mistake. His judgment had lapsed right along with his maturity.

A shame, truly a shame.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

Ron elbowed him in the side. “You can lie to yourself, but you aren’t fooling me. I’m your best friend.”

“You are, and that right there is a cry for help. Surely, someone will hear it and save me from you.”

Another elbow to the side had Draco contemplating poisoning Ron. The brute knew that he bruised easily and still used his bony elbows on the regular.

“You’re so damn dramatic. If I didn’t know you, I’d wonder why Harry was with you.”

Draco looked down at his hands in an attempt to hide a wince. “You did wonder that, though.”

“Yeah, but—hey,” Ron turned to Draco, all humor gone as he covered Draco’s hands with his own. “Don’t second guess yourself now. The two of you have been together for years, longer than we’ve been friends, but I know enough about you to say that your insecurities can go fuck themselves.”

Draco snorted, hating that Ron always knew how to cheer him up. “I wish it was that easy.”

“He’s going to say yes, you know.”

His heart skipped several beats. “You don’t know that.”

Ron scoffed, eyes rolling before he pinched the back of Draco’s hand. “Don’t be stupid, that’s beneath you.”

“I know,” Draco closed his eyes. “But there’s a difference in being the boyfriend to me and being the husband.”

“Harry loves you, Draco. I know it, you know it. The whole world knows it because the two of you can’t stop making out in public. Sometimes doing more than that, you nasties.”

Draco laughed, hating that it came out wet. The weight of the ring box in his pocket felt heavier than it had in the month that he’d been carrying it everywhere with him.

“What if he says no?” Draco asked, looking at Ron pleadingly. “Don’t deflect and tell me that he will. I want to know the truth. What if he says no?”

Ron’s hands tightened their hold. “Then he says no, and you reevaluate your relationship. Decide if that’s a deal breaker or not.”

Draco nodded; stomach uneasy at the idea of being rejected. He appreciated the honesty, it’s what he needed.

“Just know that I get to keep you in the breakup if he says no,” Ron said, laying his head on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco rested his head against the top of Ron’s, smiling despite everything. “He’s your best friend, he’ll want a shoulder to cry on.”

“He can keep Hermione; she has shoulders too.”

“Okay,” Draco said, taking a deep inhale. “I’ll do it.”

“Yeah?” Ron asked, head moving until he could look at Draco with eyes bright and a wide grin. “You’ll do it?”

Draco nodded, resolve strengthening, and diminishing the morose mood he had been in.

“I’m going to ask my boyfriend to marry me.”

———----------------

 “Where’s Ron? He said he had to go to the loo an hour ago.”

Harry rolled his eyes, propping his feet on the table, glad that Draco wasn’t around to see it. “Off with Draco I imagine.”

Hermione’s lips quirked as she looked out the window. “How long do you think they’re going to pretend to hate each other?”

“Forever.”

“It’s been four years. They can’t think we’re stupid.”

“No,” Harry agreed, placing his hands behind his head. “I think it’s more that they think they’re that smart. That we wouldn’t have the foggiest clue that they sneak out to spend time together.”

“Idiots,” Hermione shook her head. “The both of them.”

“How long are we going to let them think we don’t know that they are friends?”

There was a mischievousness in Hermione’s eyes as she leaned forward and repeated Harry’s words.

“Forever.”  

-----------------

I was responding to @wtfiswiththisplace ask for a writer ask thing. One of the questions was, ‘what’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet’. So I opened my notes app where I keep my fic ideas and this idea was the first one and I got so inspired in that moment that I didn’t even read the rest. Just picked this one and the idea wouldn’t leave. So here you go! (Also I’ll respond to your ask, sorry it took so long) 

[drlettuce]

Arthur: I can't choose you.

Merlin: and yet I still chose you

Arthur: Merlin you know why I can't because-

Merlin: because you chose her.

Arthur: because I chose her....

Arthur: Merlin listen this whole thing is a fantasy the others wouldn't understand

Merlin: why should we care if they didn't understand?!?!

Arthur: I HAVE TOO MANY TO LOSE FOR THIS I WILL LOSE MY KINGDOM MY PEOPLE MY LEGACY I CAN'T JUST SACRIFICE THIS FOR A SILLY PLAY PRETEND-

Merlin: PLAY PRETEND?!?! YOU TREAT OUR RELATIONSHIP LIKE A GAME YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT SACRIFICE?!?! FINE THEN I SACRIFICED MY PEOPLE TO STAY BESIDE YOU I LEFT MY FAMILY TO HELP YOU I SACRIFICED MY BEST FRIEND FOR YOU I LOST MY WIFE YET I STAND HERE BESIDE YOU AND YET YOU GAVE ME NOTHING BUT PAIN STILL I AM HERE WITH YOU BECAUSE I CHOOSE YOOU!!!

Arthur: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO CHOOSE YOU?!?! YOU LIED TO ME FOR SO MANY YEARS I AM HERE LOSING MY MIND BECAUSE I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE MAN I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH IS REAL OR IT IS JUST ANOTHER LIE DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT HURTS TO THINK THAT ALL THE MEMORIES WE HAVE BUILD HAS BEEN JUST A LIE DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT DRIVES ME CRAZY TO SEE YOU RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ME YET I CANNOT HAVE YOU IN MY ARMS BECAUSE IM AFRAID THAT THIS IS JUST ANOTHER ONE OF YOU'RE LIES ?!?!?

Arthur: I love you ..... But I don't know if I can trust you I don't even think I've know you for years we've been together I feel like you're just a stranger...

Merlin: .... Arthur...

Leon: when I suggested that we play a different game with pairs this isn't how I thought game night would go.....

Gwaine: maybe we shouldn't let Arthur play against Merlin next time....

Mordred: umm what the fuck????

Gwen: shit just got real really quick

[starlingflight]

Ginniversary Drabble 6

Prompt - N42 - it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife

AO3 or read below:

Is The Chosen One Choosing Marriage? 

As famous witch and occasional novelist Jane Austen said, ‘it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife’, and today it appears even the Wizarding World’s most eligible saviour is not exempt from the basic laws of nature as Ginny Weasley, Holyhead Harpies star Chaser, and long-time girlfriend of Harry Potter, Auror and defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, steps out bearing a new, and rather eye-catching piece of jewellery. 

Weasley, 20, set tongues wagging as she left the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade late last night accompanied by longtime friends, esteemed Auror, Neville Longbottom, and lauded Magizoologist, Luna Lovegood; sporting a ruby and diamond ring which could be seen from across the street, and left none but the most oblivious in any doubt as to the size of Potter’s fortune [pictures page 4]. 

Sources from within the Hogsmeade establishment say that Weasley and friends were seen enjoying a round of drinks, over which she flaunted the ring for the admiration of her companions, accepting enthusiastic congratulations, and a hug from Longbottom that some suggest may have been too familiar. 

There was no sign of the illustrious Mr Potter in attendance, but this can come as no surprise as sightings of the couple together outside of Weasley’s matches are rare, leading many rather optimistic readers, to speculate on several occasions previously that the pair had parted ways.  

In an interview with popular wireless host, Lee Jordan, last year Weasley stated, “we’re not concerned with the headlines. As I’ve said to my brothers on many occasions, mine and Harry’s relationship is between us, and it’s no one else’s business… Now, let’s talk about Quidditch.”

Potter and Weasley were first officially spotted together in the Summer of 1998 [pictures page 5], though sources from their Hogwarts days advise the relationship has been going much longer than that [full relationship timeline, page 6]. 

“Weasley got her claws in him back in our fifth year,” said Romilda Vane, former classmate of Ginny Weasley. “She still had a boyfriend when she snogged Potter in front of the whole common room. It was quite pathetic actually.” 

Other sources have debunked the suggestion that there was overlap between the beginning of Potter and Weasley’s relationship, and any of her previous romantic partners, of which there were apparently many. 

Dean Thomas, up-and-coming artist, and one such conquest, has stated, “I’m only going to answer this once, Ginny and I were over before anything happened with her and Harry. We weren’t right for each other, we both knew it, and we’re both now with the people we’re meant to be with. We remain good friends, and, for the love of Merlin, I would like to be excluded from this narrative.” 

We will, of course, let our readers draw their own conclusions. 

Despite the rumours that abound about the couple's sordid past, the future apparently looks bright for Potter and Weasley, though no official statement has been forthcoming from the supposedly happy couple. When asked for comment, both Weasley’s and Potter’s representation declined to give one, leaving us here at Witch Weekly no choice but to speculate on if, and when, the pair will make it down the aisle. 

[pega7sus]

Jealous (Professor Longbottom x Fem!Reader)

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch what you said, Y/N/N.”

“I was jealous, Nev.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ WHEN Y/N overhears a few seventh-year girls giggling about the oh-so handsome Professor Longbottom, she can’t help but feel jealous.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Wife!Reader, Pureblood!Reader, mentions of blushing, fluff, jealousy, unedited writing, and that’s about it :)

I’m still kinda new to Tumblr, since I’m mostly on Wattpad (follow me on there @/sage-like-the-herb if you want to), so don’t judge this too harshly. Also, I felt bored when I wrote this, so the idea is pretty underdeveloped. Because I’m not as active here, don’t expect stuff like this too often 😂 I hope y’all like it, though!

(Edit: It’s sooo short…)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Third-person POV)

Y/N was besides herself with excitement. After months of being away from her husband, she finally got an owl with a time and date to meet up. So, that’s how she found herself waiting outside his classroom.

As the bell rang, and students came out of the room in swarms, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward.

“Aunt Y/N?” a voice asked suddenly.

Head snapping upward, she met the familiar eyes of Albus Potter. After being introduced to her as if she was family, the whole lot of Potter children had taken to calling her their aunt.

“Albus!” she exclaimed, hugging him. She felt relieved upon realizing that she was still tall in his eyes; he was about shoulder-level to her. “Merlin, you’ve grown! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Lily keeps talking about you,” Albus commented, breaking out of the embrace. “She wants to know when you and Uncle Neville will come by again.”

“Hopefully soon,” Y/N promised. “Now, run along to lunch, I want to drop by Nev’s office for a bit.”

“There are students inside,” Albus informed her. “A rather annoying lot of seventh-years. They just burst in during class! I’d wait out here for a bit, if I were you.”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll do just that.”

So, she waited.

Thankfully, she didn’t stand for too long. Moments later, a trio of girls came walking out of the room, giggling away madly.

“He’s so cute!” a blonde-haired girl squealed. (Admittedly, the girl reminded Y/N of a prepubescent Hannah Abbott, who had harbored a crush on Neville for years until he rejected her in favor of Ginny Weasley as his Yule Ball date.)

Jealousy slapped a bewildered Y/N across the face.

“Yeah!” the blonde girl’s friend agreed. “I don’t care if he’s married, I’d smash him, for sure.”

Y/N felt disgusted.

“Don’t steal my man,” the third girl joked. “I did the research; our Zodiac signs are compatible. Do wizards even believe in Zodiacs?”

“Whatever,” the blonde girl rolled her eyes. “He’s still eye candy.”

“Excuse me,” Y/N said loudly, unable to take this talk of her husband any louder. “Could you young ladies move, please?” When the girls only gave confused and slightly disgusted looks, she continued. “I’d like to see my husband.”

All three girls stopped mid-conversation.

The second-girl’s face paled. “Y-you’re Professor Longbottom’s w-wife?”

“We don’t mean any harm!” the third girl squeaked, eyes widening in fear. “We were only joking! Right, Jessica?” she nudged the girl beside her.

The blonde girl, Jessica, was at a loss of words. She opened her mouth, then closed it once more. “Sorry, Mrs. Longbottom,” she apologized immediately.

“It’s Mrs. Y/L/N, actually,” Y/N scowled. “Mrs. Longbottom is my mother-in-law. Now move,” filthy mudbloods. Thankfully, she didn’t let the last two words slip out her mouth.

Merlin, marrying a Longbottom sure smacked the pureblood supremacist out of Y/N.

However, Y/N didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed of herself as she slammed her shoulder against Jessica’s on her way into Neville’s classroom.

Y/N twisted the door handle, and rather aggressively slammed the door open. “Nev?” she called out.

“Y/N/N!” Neville exclaimed, accidentally knocking an empty flower pot off his desk in excitement. “Whoops.” He muttered a quiet Reparo and fixed it, before setting the pot back on his desk.

He was quick to wrap his arms tightly around his wife. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in the moment, before breaking apart.

“I missed you, Nev,” Y/N sighed, looking her husband in his warm honey-like eyes. She must’ve looked the slightest bit irritated from her encounter with the seventh-years, since he gazed at her in worry.

“What’s wrong, flower?” he asked, concern written on his now angular face (all the chubbiness of his youth had abandoned his post-pubescent figure).

Y/N stayed quiet, feeling too embarrassed to admit it. She could feel a flush creeping up her face.

“Y/N/N?”

Merlin, it sure felt weird to be jealous of bloody seventh-years.

“Iwaskindajealousofthosegirlsthatwereherebefore,” Y/N blurted out, hoping that Neville would drop the subject.

However, her sweet Nev, her sweet, caring Nev, could sense the situation gnawing at her insides, so he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch what you said, Y/N/N.” Noticing Y/N’s awkward expression and clearly flustered face, he added a soft, “it’s okay, flower, you can tell me. I won’t judge.”

At this point, she wanted to cry. From embarrassment of her predicament, or pure adoration toward her loving husband, Y/N didn’t have a single clue.

“I was jealous, Nev.” Her face must’ve been a tomato by that point.

At his confused look, she elaborated her statement.

“These really pretty seventh-years were leaving your classroom, while talking about how good-looking you are, and I felt jealous. It’s just that— they were gorgeous!” Y/N ranted.

Neville blinked at her. Then, he burst into a fit of laughter. Well, what she assumed was laughter. Neville must’ve been holding back the full brink of his amusement for her sake, since his chuckles sounded rather like wheezes of desperation.

“You were jealous of those girls?” he laughed. “I don’t normally want to talk bad about my students, but they’re the worst group of people I’ve ever encountered. The ironic thing is, they were visiting my room to get some herbs for a Glamour Potion.”

At Y/N’s doubtful look, he spun her around to place both his hands on her shoulders.

“Y/N/N,” he said seriously. “Flower. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on— sorry, Gran,” he joked. Y/N cracked a smile. “I’m so lucky to be married to someone as wonderful as you. You’re kind, loving, appreciative, considerate, and just about every quality that girls like them lack.”

“I—”

“Don’t compare yourself to them,” Neville warned. “Otherwise I’ll have to muster up all my Gryffindor courage just to come up with another motivational speech.” His so-called ‘Gryffindor’ courage must’ve been given a boost by Y/N’s growing smile, since he finished with a passionate “I love you. You. Not them.”

Y/N leaned forward just a bit to press her lips against her husbands.

“I love you too, Nev,” she murmured while kissing him.

The End.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not me ending the story in the most third grade-me way ever 💀💀 i haven’t ended a story with ‘the end,’ in a while, but I’ve never actually been motivated to finish my stories in a while, either. Anywho, thoughts on this?? The writing and plot aren’t too bad, right?

[oxyvouge]

: ̗̀➛ wax wings ༊·˚

summary: after the news of Sirius cheating on you broke out to the whole wizarding world, you confronted him about it.

━━ ✦ pairing(s): husband! sirius black x wife! reader

━━ ✦ warning: cheating

━━ ✦ word count: 1,382

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'M BACK but several months late 😭🙏. here's your request, @lilacspider. hope y'all enjoy <333

YOU DIDN'T exactly remember how you got in this position; with your eyes screaming anger, sadness, and regret all in one in front of your husband himself, Sirius Black.

You didn't get it, why would he do this? And you will never get it. What was the reason? Were you not enough? Aren't you both happy? Why did everything lead to this? There were so many questions floating in your head yet you preferred if they were left unanswered.

Tho, you quite vividly remembered how you watched your son going back to his playroom after giving you a letter he found somewhere inside the house. How Marlene drank all the remaining butterbeer, putting it down on the table with a loud clang.

How Marlene also started talking shit about Sirius. "Honestly, Black can fuck Merlin's Beard. He and his bloody dick can't control itself." How Dorcas kicked Marlene after hearing what she said. "What? I'm right tho. If he controlled his dick, Y/N wouldn't even be in this situation now."

Everything could ramble all over your fuzzy mind but you would never forget how you looked into a specific page of the Daily Prophet reading Sirius' name. BLACK'S AFFAIR BRINGS SHAME TO FAMILY LEGACY. It was written on the headline.

You couldn't bring yourself to read the whole article. It was heart-wrenching. What would become of your son if he was to know? That the whole wizarding world knew about his father's affair except for him.

But you couldn't bring yourself to tell him about it so here you are, confronting Sirius about it with angry tears from the all-for-nothing years that were wasted because of a single affair.

Letters burnt but a single is saved yet crumpled in between your tightly closed hands.

"Be careful with that one, love. He may have already left the Black household, but what runs through him will never leave. He will do what it takes to survive." That was what Dorcas said. Was what they all said. But did you believe it?

You heard rumors about him yet never once in your life have you doubted Sirius' faithfulness until now.

"Are you happy now? Do you feel proud of yourself?" You managed to crack out. "You got back at the legacy you've always been talking about. And now you have a broken family. Congratulations." Legacy. Such a word to risk something important for. But was it just something important?

Sirius didn't say anything. Maybe he was too ashamed to even say anything. He should be. Sirius opened his mouth to speak yet he didn't say anything. You noted how his jaw clenched and his eyes darting everywhere all at once refusing to look you back in the eye.

"You think you're so slick, don't you? Slithering around behind my back like some kind of serpent. You should've been with the Slytherins like your whole family. Tell me, Sirius, why did you do it?"

A scoff was the only sound that came from his mouth. Sirius set his eyes on you, courage slowly building up and that lump in his throat disappearing. "You were gone. I was alone and lonely." Was the only thing he said.

It didn't need you a minute or two to put things together. It's his dick. It always has been. "Was she worth it then? Trading our vows for your lack of companionship?"

"This isn't the first time, Y/N." Dorcas took a look at you and held your hand in an assuring way. "You've married an Icarus, he has flown too close to the sun." They must've been laughing at you already. Noting how dumb you could be, especially in the face of love.

"No! She was no one! She begged me." Sirius cried. He never cried like this so hard ever since he left the Black household for the better.

You laughed. It was stupid. Men and their ability to make stupid decisions with their dick. "Because you were alone? Do you even know why you're alone, Sirius? Because you refuse to come home and now you're pulling me that bloody excuse of loneliness like it was my fault when it wasn't!"

"But I still love you, Y/N!" He kneeled, wanting to grab your hand and beg to all of the Gods out there, Merlin, but most importantly, to you.

"No. I refuse to believe that. That became a lie ever since you were entangled with that woman." You felt tears building up in the corner of your eyes but you would never let it fall. Not when he could see and may use for his self-pleasure. "My—Cepheus, our son, was always coming to our bedroom asking when you'd be back." You emphasized. "You know what I always tell him? I tell him, "Daddy will come home, honey, once you're a good and big boy already!" and he must've already memorized it."

"I'm a big boy now, aren't I, mother?" Your 6-year-old son asked as he stood in front of a measuring tape for his height.

You've always been in front of your porch, waiting when Sirius would come home. "When was the last time he came home?" You remembered Lily asking that and how you stayed silent thinking carefully, when did he last come home? But you never knew the answer to that.

"Every time I look at you now, I see nothing but betrayal etched into your face. That must've been the reason why you never come home."

Maybe you should've burned the article moments ago so you didn't have to be in this position. Like how you burnt the letters he gave you. "Did your wax wings melt? Because I would never understand where you got the courage to do that and admit it like it was never your fault."

You turn from him and into the table where the newspaper lies. You turn to snatch it from there and show it to Sirius. You let out a chuckle, "It was ironic, honestly. You've always talked about legacy; legacy this, legacy that." You took a moment to compose yourself yet your eyes never left Sirius'. "Are you that blind Sirius? They aren't your legacy Sirius. Your legacy isn't your family who you turned your back on. Not Hogwarts. Not the Marauders. Not the Wizarding World. Not them but us. We are your legacy."

You've married the brightest star in the sky, he collided with another and everything exploded. "You've left scars on my heart that may never heal, all because you couldn't keep it in your pants."

You regained your posture and said, "By the break of dawn, I want every each one your clothes and things gone from this house."

"Mommy, is everything alright?" You heard a soft voice calling out to you. You turned to look at the door and saw how your son was holding onto the doorknob, peaking with his tired eyes that came from his sleep. Sirius stood up from the floor and turned away from Cepheus. "Dad?"

You passed Sirius and walked straight towards your son. "Baby?" You bent down to look at him and saw how he rubbed his eyes with a yawn. "Come on, let's go to bed. Daddy has things to do and he's in a hurry baby."

"He's always gone." Your son muttered, catching Sirius' attention. You both left the room and closed the door behind you.

"Did you and dad fight, mommy?" You only managed to smile.

Dear Y/N,

You're the person I want to spend my entire life with. You're the match in a world full of moths and it's drawing me to you. I chased you ever since first year and I don't plan on just walking towards you anytime soon. I want to run. Let's run till we can't anymore. I would watch the world burn, let the supernova engulf the Universe, and let everything fall apart in front of us as long as I'm with you.

I love you so much, my love. Words can't explain how much I love you to the Saturn and back. But maybe, I'm certain, every time I look at you, I fell a million times over.

Let's build a family. A new legacy of the Blacks. It'll be for us all; and maybe, just maybe we can show them what being a Black is really like.

With all love,

S. O. B.

you can make a request here where you'll be guided by the guidelines and check out the masterlist.

this is the most beautiful thing i've written 🥹🥹

ps. i still hate cheaters.

[katherynefromphilly]

Are you still doing the DVD commentary ask thing? This is one of my favorite scenes from the story, I've always loved how it acknowledged that Arthur really loved Gwen but there was always something between Arthur and Merlin. But I wanted to hear what you were thinking when you wrote it.

Scene:

“As I said, a battle wound,” Arthur told him.  “It needs time to heal.  Though even when it does, I’m certain I’ll still awaken some mornings expecting Sir Leon to burst into the room with word of an attack. Or one of my Counsel to be waiting for an audience.  Or for Guinevere to be here in…”

Merlin flinched before he could catch himself.

Arthur noticed.  He began to speak, then hesitated, uncertain.

“You expect Gwen to be here instead of me,” Merlin said, so that Arthur knew he still had a friend to confide in about such things, no matter what the two of them had become to each other.

“Yes,” Arthur said softly.

“Of course you do,” Merlin assured him, ignoring how strange he felt to speak of this while Arthur was stretched out half naked at his side in the royal bed.  “Gwen was your wife, sire.  Your queen.  I’d-“  He swallowed, forced a smile.  “I’d never think of trying to take her place.  I know I never could.”

Arthur smiled at him, a small thing in the dim daylight that still set a sparkle to his blue eyes. “No, you couldn’t,” he said.  “Just as Guinevere never could take yours.”

“As… your servant?”

“No, Merlin,” he drawled out, putting overtones of ‘idiot’ into his name.  “Not as my servant.”

“Well what, then?”

Arthur pushed himself up to an elbow, his blond hair mussed and his cheeks pink with the heat of their bed.  “I did love Guinevere.  As much as I knew how at the time.  But you…”

“Me… what?”

Arthur touched Merlin’s face, fingertips sliding down his cheek before tracing his lips.  First the top, and then the bottom, and then the top again, all the while watching his own fingers with a wistful smile.  “I remember staring at your mouth.  From that first day we met.   I remember telling myself it was because you had the pretty lips of a girl.”

“I do not have the pretty lips of a girl-”

“You have seen your lips, haven’t you.”

“You’re one to talk.  Your mouth is-“

Arthur silenced him with a kiss, right where his fingers had been, before resuming his soft touches.  “Do you remember what you said our first night together?”

It was difficult to remember anything at all with Arthur touching him as if he were something precious and rare, whispering as if sharing a secret.  “I… No?”

“You said that in hindsight, it was obvious how you felt about me.  You just didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time.”

“You mean… you…”

“Yes.”

“Even then?”

“Even then,” Arthur said.  “So you see, right from the very start, before any of it, before all of it, your place was here.  In my life.  In my heart.  In my bed.   I’ll not hear of you doubting that.  Not even for a moment.  Do you understand?”

I’d be happy to talk about this scene. :)

Because I like to write in canon, I needed to keep Arthur’s love for Gwen in tact. In Season 5, Gwen’s character representation is all over the place (don’t get me started on the whole Evil Gwen thing), but in Diamond of the Day especially, which I rewatched A LOT, Gwen was smart, brave, and Arthur clearly loved her and respected her with all of his heart.

Merlin’s friendship with Gwen was really downplayed in Season 5, which sucked, but fundamentally she cared for Merlin, and he did for her as well. I also wanted to respect that in my story, especially because it added a nice layer of internal conflict and guilt for Merlin at taking her place.

So in this scene, we have Merlin and Arthur laying naked together in Arthur’s actual bed from Camelot, after they’ve just had sex the first time. As I wrote them finally talking to each other about how they felt, I could feel Gwen’s presence with them.

I wrote the little exchange between the two of them to give Gwen her place as friend and wife and queen to Arthur, and to also settle Merlin’s insecurities about who he is in Arthur’s life. I also wanted to show that Arthur has been doing some reflecting on his life back in Camelot (through his new understanding of his own sexuality), and acknowledge that he actually was attracted to Merlin all that time, only didn’t realize it, just as Merlin hadn’t either.

There are a lot of stories out there with a lot of different takes on Arthur and Gwen. I’ve read a bunch of them, but of them all, the one that I think influenced me the most — and influenced the different way I see Arthur loving Gwen and Arthur loving Merlin — is probably “Lights Go Out, Here I Go Again” by halffizzbin. Just take a look at this beautiful passage from that story:

“Arthur loved Gwen in his other life, of course, with as much of himself as he possibly could—and that was enough, at the time. He misses her, a gentle ache in his heart that eases a little when he thinks about the long life he’s told that she lived when he was gone, ruling well in his absence and surrounded by loyal friends. He’ll love Gwen forever, probably, but.

Merlin is something else. Merlin has always been more than forever (something they’ve already proven by sitting across from each other eating curry right now). Merlin is sunlight and flame and clear, rushing water, too much for Arthur to control and never enough to quench him, and maybe it took Arthur dying for him to realize it but oh, he wants. He wants things he never realized he could have, before, when his life was all planned out for him and his servant still seemed like this wild, unknowable thing even after all those years, beloved and strange and always slipping out of Arthur’s grasp.”

DAMN I love that last bit in purple. If you want a good read, hit the link up above. It’s short and sweet and rated Explicit. Still one of my all time faves.

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 31 || 1733 Words || Read on Ao3 A/N: I would like to state for the record that I know trick-or-treating wasn’t a thing in the UK in the early '80s but please just suspend your disbelief I’m BEGGING you. This is already going canon-divergent so let’s pretend trick-or-treating exists, cool thanks.

Additionally a quick little thank you for joining me on this ride <3 I've read every tag and comment and I'm so grateful for all the love for this fic! Keep an eye out for a masterpost with all these linked, and please feel free to drop into my ask box and let me know if you had any favorites! —

Three raps on the door and James opens it wide, only to find himself immediately arrested by the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him. Her auburn hair is swept over her right shoulder, a pointed witch’s hat sitting tall atop it as brilliant green eyes flicker between him and a small boy that sits on her hip. The boy is smiling, a disheveled mess of black hair poking out from under a little green hat—the stem to the soft orange pumpkin costume his little arms and legs stick through. 

“Trick or treat,” the woman smiles at James, and his lips immediately pull into a grin, even as her eyes once again travel to the small boy on her hip. “Can you say ‘trick or treat’, Harry?”

Harry rocks his weight against his mother’s side, bouncing with excitement as his eyes (green, like hers) sparkle at James. “Dada! Dada!” he babbles, arms outstretched, and James reaches out to take his son with a gentle smile, settling on his hip. 

“It was a long shot,” Lily sighs with a weak shrug, taking a few steps forward and nestling herself beneath James’ other outstretched arm—his whole world now within his grasp. “We’ll just have to try again next year.”

“Well if it helps,” he places a kiss on her head, “you two were my favorite visitors of the night.” Nevermind the ‘only’ that lingers in the air—the heavy weight of isolation that sits, strapped around their necks, trying its damndest to drag them further into despair every day for the last ten months.

But not tonight—not on Halloween, when they can coo over their son and his excitement, when they can enjoy the fact that they can spend another holiday together as a family (especially when the alternative is too gut-wrenching to consider). James places a firmer, longer kiss on his wife’s head as the thought flickers across his mind. Not tonight.

The pop of apparition on the other side of their wards sends his nerves on high alert. Exchanging a quick, loaded glance, Lily takes Harry inside with a protective arm around him as James reaches for his wand.

It’s not there.

He follows behind Lily in a hurry, mind racing at who could be visiting—they didn’t have any planned visits and everyone knows better than to show up unannounced. 

“James—” 

Lily’s eyes are wide and fearful when his attention snaps to her, misplaced wand securely in his hand once more. Harry’s started to fuss—the moods of his parents alerting him to something wrong, and she’s got both of her hands holding him securely to her chest, rocking back and forth.

“It’ll be fine, Lil.”

It’s an empty promise, but one he has to make. For his sanity, for his family, he has to make it. 

Silently casting a Shield, he approaches the door just as frantic beating disrupts the silence of the house.

“Prongs! Lily!”

James’ shoulders stiffen. It’s Sirius. Or rather—it sounds like Sirius.

Sirius, who had insisted on not visiting too often so as to not draw suspicion. Sirius, who had shockingly adhered to a pre-planned visit only rule. Sirius, who’s now here, unexpectedly.

“Please, please open the door or I’ll open it myself!”

Sparing a quick glance to Lily over his shoulder, James holds his wand up to the door.

“What did you say to me the day Harry was born?”

“Oh thank Merlin,” he hears with a final thunk against the wood. “I told you that it seemed unfair for Lily to do all the hard work only for him to come out looking like a shrunken duplicate of you.” James’ shoulders relax the smallest fraction at the correct answer. “Now, let me in immediately. We don’t have time. Wormtail’s been compromised. You aren’t safe here.”

The blood in his veins turns to ice, the sounds of the world dropping away as a ringing intensifies, mixed only with the sensation of his heart pounding painfully in his throat.

Wormtail’s been compromised.

“—should’ve never listened to me. Fuck, but we’ve fixed it, okay?”

“James.” The croak of Lily’s voice is what pulls him out of his stupor, more than Sirius’ ramblings through the door, more than the pounding of his heart. Lily. Harry. Wormtail’s been compromised. “James, love, open the door.”

His muscles act of their own accord as he twists the handle and he’s nearly barrelled over by Sirius’ determined strides as the door flings open and the man walks in, long hair wild and unusual panic in his gaze. Grey eyes fall on Lily and Harry and James sees the sigh of relief expelled in the rise and fall of Sirius’ chest before he snaps into movement and slams the door shut.

“What do you mean ‘compromised’?” Lily whispers, eyes shimmering with terror.

Sirius shakes his head quickly. “I can’t get into the specifics right now but I went to check on him and he was just gone. No struggle, nothing.” His wild eyes turn back to James, who's still standing by the front door, wand clutched tightly in his hand. “Something feels off. Bad off. Fawley came with me as a lookout and I immediately had her help setting up a new Fidelius on my flat—she and Graham had done it for their parents at the beginning of all of this.” He runs a hand over his face, and when the hand is gone, the eyes that meet James’ are determined and tinged with fury. “We need to get you there now.”

Head still reeling from all this news, James nods, motioning for Lily and Harry as he walks over to the fireplace—Disapparating from inside their wards is impossible.

“James—” Lily’s hand grabs his wrist in a death grip, and he cuts her off with a swift, firm kiss, hand smoothing down the red hair on the crown of her head, the black witch’s hat discarded at some point in the excitement.

“Take Harry and go, we’re right behind you.”

“32 Longmoore Street, Lily. The Floo is open.”

With a resolute nod and a clenched jaw, Lily carefully steps into the Floo, green powder spilling to her feet as her hold on Harry tightens and she calls out Sirius’ address. James’ attention is fixed on her, watching as she and Harry disappear to safety in a swell of green flames right as a red beam of light jets through the window, shattering the glass and knocking Sirius off his feet.

Wormtail’s been compromised.

Without hesitation and with everything in him, James throws up another Shield Charm as he drops to crouch low, slinging Sirius’ arm around his neck and firing off a stunner into the darkness outside his window before dragging the two of them to the fireplace.

He knocks the little bowl of floo powder to the ground and scrapes as much as he can into shaking hands as curses continue to fly at the shield. The last one—some sort of dark purple spell that he’s seen on the battlefield once or twice, shatters the shield and the front wall of the cottage, dousing the room in drywall and debris.

Heart lurching in throat, James slams Sirius into the back of the Floo, dropping the green powder as he hurls himself into the flames as well, arm tightening around the unconscious man.

“32 Longmoore Street,” James states as loud as he dares with a trembling voice. The green flames dance around him, higher and higher until it obscures his vision and the floor drops out beneath him—a bone-white wand in a pale hand the last image he sees of their home.

Squeezing his eyes tight, hand clutching his wand and shoulder supporting Sirius’ limp figure, he tumbles out of the grate moments later, knees buckling as the two of them slam to the floor. A hand is on him in an instant and his ears reattune to the sound of Lily’s sobs as she checks him for injuries, Harry crying from his spot on her hip.

“—been holding my breath, I felt sick seeing you disappear, oh my god, James what do we—Sirius!”

With a groan, James sits up, clasping Lily’s free hand with his in an effort to provide some reassurance (for who, his brain is too adrenaline-addled to answer honestly). He brings the back of her hand to his lips, holding it there even as his eyes remain focused on Sirius’ limp form on the rug while he pulls out his wand. Placing the tip to the other man’s chest, he murmurs a shaky ‘Rennervate’, his breath of relief fanning across Lily’s skin as Sirius stirs at the spell, teeth clenching as he pushes himself up.

James shifts so that he can now fully wrap himself around Lily and Harry, his arms holding them close as the shock and terror of the past few minutes begins to settle over him. Wormtail’s been compromised.

His thumb lightly rubs soothing circles on Lily’s arm and he gives Harry a kiss on the head before looking over at Sirius, his throat constricting. “Peter…”

At the name, Sirius’ jaw clenches, his eyes reflecting a hatred James had only seen reserved for his own parents. “I’m going to kill him, James,” he whispers, a growl curling the edges of the words into something deadly. He rubs a hand over his face, eyes flickering down to where Harry’s finally stopped crying before meeting James’ gaze again. “So help me god, I’m going to kill him.”

“Sirius,” Lily’s voice comes, weaker than it had been in their own home, but still with that spark of strength that had carried them all through these months of isolation. She reaches a hand out for him and Sirius grasps it, the four of them connected here, grounded by touch with the proof that they all made it out alive. “You saved us. Don’t risk yourself now.” Dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, she presses her back closer against James’ chest, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever let her and Harry out of his sight again after tonight. Doesn’t know if he can bear the thought of not having everyone he loves within arms’ reach.

A lump has wedged itself into his throat. “Tell Dumbledore,” he manages around the swell of emotion, attention on Sirius. “Send a patronus, but don’t leave. You’re no safer than we are right now.”

[the-ace-with-spades]

Trying to make myself write like a monkey pilot and so random bits from worldbuilding of this fic that are only mention or not even included (this is trans Bradley fic, for people who have not read it, but some bits are universal - I'm sorry for the rambling)

Merlin has a flight school in Nevada - this is where Bradley gets his commercial pilot licence, not long after he starts medical transition. Merlin runs it with his second wife, Nandini, who was the original owner and main flight instructor. They met through Slider, who got his commercial through her school, and they got two kids and their daughter had a crush on Bradley everyone in their family holds against her any time they meet for family gatherings.

Slider, by the way, retired from the Navy the same year as Mav started on the path to become a test pilot, and got a commercial and then airline pilot licence. Mav makes fun of it constantly.

Jake and Bradley (then pre-transition) talked extensively about their future life together and in Jake's mind, it was a given they would get married and have kids eventually, they'd just wait for the right timing or until they were at certain ranks/positions. Bradley did want all of it, he just never thought/imagined how it'd actually look with him as wife/mother, only vaguely with Jake as a dad and his own image completely avoided (kinda hard to explain but it's like a very blurry picture where his own figure would be even blurrier).

Bradley still wants to get married and have kids. Once the whole wife/mom bit became husband/dad thing, he's no longer uncomfortable about the topic. He knows being pregnant would be difficult because society sucks but he's pretty sure he's at the stage of confidence when he can pull it off.

Jake's mom is the nightmare mother-in-law people joke about. For real. She is terrible to all of her kids' partners, but she is especially terrible to Bradley (pre and after transition) because Jake is her little miracle baby.

Coyote joined Jake's squadron just as Bradley left the Navy, which means he met Jake in the middle of a heartbreak and well, that's basically why he's not the biggest fan of Bradley (even if sometimes it shows in ugly ways).

Bradley and Jake also had very different mindsets about their relationship during the break-up period of six years. Bradley had been a bit in denial and tried to force himself to move quickly, thinking that ever being with Jake was impossible (or you know, a fantasy only possible in his head...). Jake up until he sees Bradley, now after transition, at the Hard Deck, thought they were like magically destinated to be together and they'd meet again at some point. He dated some girls, mostly on Coyote's insistence, but he never hit it off with any woman, liked to say he was 'ruined for life' for Bradley and never stopped believing they'd find each other again despite the years apart piling on.

Mav and Ice renewed their vows and had a second wedding after Ice went into remission. Bradley was the officiant, mostly because Ice and Mav had a massive fight about whose witness he should be.

This is implied ?? but Ice's cancer went in remission because I imagine Bradley being there and Mav being there more often because of Bradley meant Ice'd go to the doctor earlier than in canon and had better chances given it was at an earlier stage when it was found. You know, a butterfly effect and all that.

Bradley and Ice spent weeks after Bradley's top surgery playing DCS, most often in the F-14 sim with Bradley in the RIO seat, sometimes with Slider providing commentary. As stated in the fic, Slider is the one to pop the idea and install the whole thing. Ice and Mav often play while goes through his oncology treatment and Ice often uses his puppy eyes to make Mav play as the RIO (rather than have two planes and Jester AIs)

Jake has a strange view on gender, which isn't necessarily bad, but it can be disheartening to Bradley, especially at the beginning. It's almost as if he doesn't see people's gender but who the people are (kinda like similar to not seeing skin colours??) which can be great when you don't want to be perceived/treated by just gender (like Bradley pre-transition) but can be ignorant if you do (like Bradley after transition). He is also terrible with labels and doesn't really believe or use them.

(A bit nsfw/tmi ??) Bradley chose his preferred type of top surgery based on the desire to keep the sensation of his nipples (buttonhole has a higher probability of keeping the feeling), mostly because it was a really sensitive part of his body, but ended up not keeping the full sensation on one side, which is always a possible outcome with any top surgeries, and after a few more months on T realized that his chest isn't really that sensitive anymore anyway. It's probably one of the very few things he misses.

I'm absolutely ecstatic because readers picked up on it, but Jake's been so jealous of Mav the whole time the fic's been going on and it'll continue until he realizes who Mav is to Bradley actually. You can only imagine how horrified he is when he realizes how terrible of a first impression he made on Mav.

While Mav is not a fan of Jake, Ice is trying to be very neutral. Objectively, he's not the biggest fan of Jake either, mostly because he's never going to be a fan of any of his baby boy's partners, but he thinks Bradley is an adult and should be able to make his own decisions. He also knows that a lot of people would have told him Mav is no good for him and it's not true at all so he's trying to trust Bradley's judgment.

someone please make me write, i just stare at the open document and change words in already written dialogues

[surelynotsid]

a merthur drabble;

Arthur barged into the throne room on the verge of losing his mind. He was clouded by emotion, irrational, and erratic. The panic and pure fury gripping him tightly by the throat, restricting the oxygen to his lungs, the blood to his head. 

He wasn't clear headed, or unbiased. He was leading dangerously with his heart as it lodged itself in his throat. He was choking on it, this foolish love that devoured him whole, a love certainly not fit for a king. But Arthur was no king, not like this. Bound to the mercy of his heart's deepest desires.

He was willing to send armies out on endless searches to scour the earth and beyond. He was too comfortable in sacrificing his kingdom for his servant. Though Merlin had never just been a servant. And Arthur had never just been a king. A king is rational and selfless. He makes the hard decisions and always does the best for his kingdom. A king sacrifices one man for the safety of his people, not the other way around.

But heavens, he could not breathe, he could not sleep, the color had been stripped from his world, and the endless darkness was suffocating. He was going mad. And his wife, oh his lovely wife who had been nothing but patient with him as he fell apart every morning he woke without Merlin to greet him with something sharp on his tongue and the usual mischief in his eyes. She was gentle with his fragile shell, with soft words of comfort murmured in his ear, a gentle caress against his cheek, warm fingers carding through his hair.

His wife, his lovely wife.

Arthur was a poor king, but he was an unfathomable husband. The term felt like bile in his throat, it made him gag. He did not deserve Guinevere, not in this life or the next. He could never be the husband she deserved, but still, he fell to one knee in a desperate plea to do what was right for his kingdom. To be a husband. To be a king.

He never quite succeeded in either area.

He was a king not worthy, with a kingdom he would dispose of for a glance upon pink lips, high cheekbones, eyes of Llyn-y-forwyn lake. Oh, his eyes, Arthur yearned to drown beneath them. To be locked in their sight, to be the object within the mischievous gaze. What he would give, what he would do, all things sacred and beautiful be damned. He would give everything; do anything.

It's only in the fleeting moments when his body is too tired, eyes too heavy where he slips into a dream that offers little relief. A small glance. A ghost of a touch. Never enough. For he wakes, desperate and yearning, his heart heavy in his chest.

And as he stares into the dull brown eyes of his lovely wife, he can't help but think about everything she is not. Or rather whom she is not.

He is certain he loves her or has a feeling of love for her, but a cruel thing is desire. Oh, and it lies within the crevices of another's skin, one he wishes to touch, to explore. To know deeply and more intimately than his own mind. He was a fool under desire's wicked hands. It was an unruly flame, and he was choking on the smoke. But he was too far gone and damn the angels that tried to save the pyromaniac fool he was.

He barged through the doors demanding attention, and maybe it was because he was king. Or perhaps the sick sadistic and voyeuristic tendency for humans to watch as one goes mad made them all look.

Look at your king, watch him fall to his knees and weep for his servant. Watch him unravel, as he falls apart. Watch as he brings everyone down with him.

The order was on the tip of his tongue crafted to perfection, go- but there was Gaius, and he was turning around, and Arthur's breath hitched in his throat. The constant worry and fear of the worst that had been clouding his eyes for days had ceased. He was calm, relieved, and smiled knowingly as he stepped aside.

And Arthur fell apart at the mere sight of him. Merlin. 

He didn't know he was a starved man before he feasted his gaze upon the very cause of his hunger.

Seeing wasn't enough; he needed to touch him. To press his palm to his chest to feel him, to feel his heartbeat. But there were too many prying eyes, and Arthur felt small and scrutinized. He felt as though he was under a microscope. Everyone was watching him, their king, waiting for his reaction.

Arthur wanted to run and hide and he wanted to take Merlin with him. He wanted to be alone with him. Just the two of them, where he could touch Merlin and not be questioned about his intentions. Where he could stare at him for as long as he pleased. Where he wasn’t a king and he could just exist with this feeling.

"You're ok," he breathed out, because he had been staring for too long, getting trapped beneath the surface of the lake in his eyes. He welcomed the drowning sensation with open arms as the feeling of death clouded his head. To die at his hands, Arthur thinks that's how he would like to go.

Merlin gave a small quirk of his lips and a shrug of his shoulders, "I always am."

And Arthur missed a lot more than just the sight of him.

They didn't have any time. Merlin was whisked away, and Arthur had duties that called for a king. But he was hopeless and his mind wandered to the blue eyed servant who occupied every space in his brain. It wasn't enough to know he was home and safe, Arthur needed to be with him. He needed to feel him alive. 

That's why that night, as the moon sits in the sky and time crawls slowly into the early hours of the morning, he lies awake.

Guinevere is next to him, sleeping peacefully with a light arm tossed over his chest. Arthur is heaving beneath the weight. He is suffocating on her naturally sweet scent, and he is close to tears. He has to see, has to feel, knowing wasn't enough. His heartbeat is unsteady in his chest, and he knows it is only Merlin who can calm it. 

Arthur moves Gwen's arm off him. It is not her touch he needs, and he despises himself for even daring to think that. But he can't hide from the truth. Not when it's so loud, so demanding, so punishing, a bright contrast against the darkness of the night. Not when it rips him apart, wields his heart like a compass, and directs him to his true north. He knows who lies at the destination. 

Slipping out of the covers, swinging his legs free, he winces when his bare feet come in contact with the chilling floor. He lets out a shaky breath, dragging a hand down his face. He feels split open, raw, and hurting, and it only gets worse when he hears his name being uttered softly from behind him. 

"Arthur?" A gentle hand is pressed against his shoulder blade, and he tenses, the touch making his skin crawl. He shrugs out of her reach, standing up. "Are you ok?" she asks tenderly, and Arthur feels sick.

He stares at his feet, unable to meet her eyes, " 'm thirsty," he mumbles. 

He hears the rustle of the duvet, "I'll come with," she says. And she is just trying to be there for him like she has been trying the past few weeks. But she is not who he needs, and he is a terrible husband.

"It's just water," he whispers, glancing back over his shoulder, just in time to watch his wife's heart break in her eyes.

She averts her gaze, running her fingers through the soft fur on the blanket. It wasn't just water. They both know this, but neither of them will acknowledge it. They are married. They once held hands and made a promise. So long as the sun rises and falls, they will eternally be one together. They shall stand side by side, forever united under said sacred oath that is marriage. And she will bear the heir, and they will grow old together just as they vowed.

But Arthur's heart will always beat to the rhythm of another's laughter. And it's a damning thing, and he'll break both their hearts in the process. But truth is demanding, and they can't hide from it with matching rings on their fingers that signify nothing more than their eternal misery.  

Gwen looks up at him through carefully guarded eyes. She smiles softly, "Right. . . just," she says with a knowing nod of her head. Just, it's a surrogate, really, a word to fill in the empty space. There are many words left unspoken between them. A bandaid for a bullet wound; just.

And perhaps Arthur should say something to comfort her, an apology, or an acknowledgment, or gratitude. But he is truly a poor husband and wordlessly turns around and makes his way out of their room and heads in the opposite direction of the kitchens.

The castle feels different at night. Feels smaller, compressed with all the secrets uttered to the moon. He blacks out on the walk. It is muscle memory. Arthur knows how to get to him. The path is etched into his brain. He needn't be present. His feet know the way, for he has walked the same halls a million times before.

He hadn't even realized he reached his destination and was knocking until a delirious Gaius was opening the door cladded in his nightgown. His eyes are barely open as he looks up at his intruder.

"Arthur?" he grumbles, "it's the middle of the night!"

Arthur let out a breath nodding his head, "is he-"

"Sleeping," Gaius cuts in shortly, "like i was, like you should be," he says with a pointed stare.

Arthur's heart stutters in his chest, "I need-please Gaius, I need to know he's ok," Arthur pleads, the vulnerability and desperation in his voice clearly shocking Gaius.

The old man considers him for a moment before slowly nodding and stepping aside. Arthur almost cries out in relief as he stumbles forward. "Thank you," he murmurs gratefully.

Gaius just grunts, before padding back over to his room.

Arthur instantly makes a beeline towards Merlin's room. The door creaks softly as he pushes it open. 

Merlin is lying on his back fast asleep, and Arthur can see the rise and fall of his chest. He sits on the edge of his bed, and Merlin stirs but stays in his slumber. 

Arthur sucks in a harsh breath as Merlin lays there, motionless, moonlight dancing across his face, kissing his fair skin the way Arthur yearns to do so. He reaches out a trembling hand, pressing his palm to the exposed part of Merlin's chest. His skin is warm to the touch, and Arthur can feel the steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest. He shudders, allowing peace to finally wash over him, allowing his pulse to ground him. He is okay. His own heart falls into the same steady rhythm, his wild mind finally calming and his eyes fluttering shut as he absorbs the warmth radiating off of Merlin. Warm, his mind tells him; alive.

Merlin stirs beneath his palm and Arthur watches silently as his eyes flutter open, his eyebrows drawing together in a disorientated state. He blinks, his eyes still drowsy with sleep, "Arthur?" Merlin mumbles, mindlessly reaching for him, and for the first time in weeks a small smile graces Arthurs lips.

A response catches in his throat, all words dying on his tongue because Merlin is there, alive. His bony frame, pale skin, blue eyes and he sits up. He is there, and Arthur is there and the earth starts turning once again.

"Merlin," he croaks because there are no intruding eyes, no one to see their king cry.

"I am ok," Merlin reassures, placing his hand over Arthurs, where it still sits firmly against his chest.

Arthur blinks, ducking his head down. Merlin's hand is warm against his own, rough, and callus with years of work worn into them. Arthur twists his own hand to hold Merlins. He runs his thumb down slender fingers, and around the bumps of bony knuckles before pressing his lips to them.

Merlin shifts, and the small bed groans in protest. He pulls his hand from Arthur to pat the empty spot, a silent invitation in which Arthur doesn't hesitate to accept. He lays down, the mattress is warm from Merlin's body, and Arthur is reminded once again that he is alive.

It's a tight fit, but their bodies mold together with ease. Pieces slot together perfectly like they are made for each other, like the gods took extra care, making sure they aligned flawlessly.

It's silent between them, just steady breathing and the white noise of the world still spinning. 

There are many things Arthur wants to tell him, and he does with time. After all, they have the whole night. So whispers are exchanged, along with soft touches, and it's skin on skin as they melt into one another. It's impossible to know where one begins and the other ends. It's all so sweet reserved for the night, and it is a shame this love doesn't get to grace the light of day. But Arthur doesn't spare that a second thought when he finally gets a taste of pink lips.

They fall deeper into one another, their souls intertwined and the stars bear witness as they become just another secret for the moon to hold.

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Is it?

“Daddy!”

Lucius sighed behind a copy of the Daily Prophet. He ignored the way Narcissa snorted from the other side of the kitchen table.

“Draco, we discussed this. You are to call me father.”

He didn’t have to look down to know that Draco was pouting. Five years old wasn’t old enough to have proper decorum… yet.

“But you said I could call you that in secret.”

Narcissa snorted again, and he debated about replacing her cleansing potion with a dye potion. Then they’d see if that humor lasted.

“We aren’t in secret, are we?” When he looked over the top of the paper he was proven right. Draco was pouting.

“I forgot what it meant.”

Lucius sighed again. It wasn’t worth it. Battles only mattered if they were won, and Lucius knew the moment that his son was born that Draco would win every battle.

“But that doesn’t matter!” Draco cried, hands clapping together. “You said one day I would get married and have a wife.”

“Yes,” Lucius said slowly, not bothering to look up from the paper as he began to read again. “I also said you needed to practice your studies so that you can take over the Malfoy name.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Battles. Losing battles.

“I decided that I’ll be the wife!” Draco continued; voice closer to a yell than anything polite. No decorum, he must get that from Narcissa.

“Pardon?” Lucius put down the paper and gave Draco his full attention, ignoring the wheezing laugh that Narcissa didn’t attempt to hide.

“I want to be a husband,” Draco said, puffing out his chest. “But I also want to have a husband too. So, I think that means I’m a wife.”

Decades of heartbreak, yells, fights and screams echoed in his mind before his son’s pleading eyes broke through. Lucius could feel Narcissa’s eyes on him, but this wasn’t a moment when he needed her help. Draco came to him, not her. These were his hangups, not hers. This was his time to be someone better for his son than his father was for him.

There were many criticisms that people held of Lucius—most of them true—but the one thing he wouldn’t be was his father.

“Two men can get married.”

Draco gasped at the same time Narcissa did.

“They can?” Draco did a weird set of movements that he believed was some kind of dance routine. Merlin knew where he picked up that from. The more he thought about it, Draco did spend far too much time with Dobby.

“Yes,” Lucius said with a sad tilt of his lips as he placed a hand to Draco’s cheek. “But there’s going to come a time when you’re going to have to ask yourself if it’s worth it. There will be a lot of people against it, they will expect more from a Malfoy heir.”

Draco frowned; head tilted. “But you said Malfoys don’t care about the thoughts of those beneath us.”

Lucius huffed, refusing to laugh even if his lips twitched.

“You’re right.” Would there ever be a battle he’d win with Draco? “So, then I’ll ask you. Is it? Is it worth it?”

Draco’s forehead wrinkled, tongue poked out as he made a very long and exaggerated thinking sound before he said in a tone that booked no argument,

“Yes.”

“Then you’d best find yourself a husband.”

Draco did another dance… if that was what one would call such a thing.

“Yes! You hear that mum? I get to be a husband and have one!”

“I did hear,” Narcissa said with such a soft sweet smile that Lucius fell in love all over again. “My baby is all grown up.”

Draco puffed out his chest again before he ran out of the room—with no decorum—as he said, “I have to tell Dobby! We have to start planning now.”

That brought a whole set of images that would have to be rectified as soon as possible. The last thing they needed was that senile elf planning anything.

Before he could walk after Draco, Narcissa placed a hand on top of his and said something that no one had ever told him before.

“I’m proud of you.”

And you know what? Lucius was proud of himself too. Just as he was proud of Draco—always would be.

Always.

[dramioneasks]

Christmas Fics 2023 (Part 5):

The 12th, 12th day of Christmas by Cat.st.claire - M, WIP - A holiday rendition of Groundhog day, with the added bonus of being Dramione.

sweet dreams of holly and ribbon by LovesBitca8 - E, one-shot - The war against the Dark Lord continues on, but Hermione is stuck at Grimmauld Place with the world's most annoying house guest.

From the Journal of Hermione Granger by Catmint and Thyme (Languish_Locked_in_L) - M, one-shot - Only one bed, rainforest edition. In which Hermione Granger goes on an expedition to Costa Rica in search of a magical (probably mythical) poinsettia with her insufferable colleague, Draco Malfoy, who she can't stop drawing. (It's not creepy, he just has good bone structure.)

darkest days and brightest nights by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - The Second Wizarding War destroyed many lives, families and businesses, who then struggled to come to terms with life after the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Many people were shadows of their former selves. Some changed for the better. Some for the worse. Hermione Granger went away to Australia for years, struggling to keep contact with all of her friends before travelling back to London and opening a tattoo parlour — which quickly came to be one of the most favourite businesses in Diagon Alley. Further down the street was the young widow, Draco Malfoy, who had taken over the ownership of his late wife’s favourite flower shop and was struggling to survive day to day with the upcoming Christmas holidays — especially with keeping things happy, mystical and festive for his son Scorpius.

United? by ce1estemccc - G, WIP - It's no secret Gryffindor's and Slytherin's have never gotten on, and a prime example of this is that of the Golden and Silver trios. However, important new details come to light about certain members of each respective trio, which makes the other question just how founded their mutual hatred is... Or Hermione and Draco meet on a train on the way to King's Cross one Christmas. Four hours certainly isn't enough for their whole respective world views to change... but is it just enough to sow the seed of doubt in each other's mind? You'll have to read to find out I'm afraid...

Everything Gold Can Stay by charingfae - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy would give all the money in his vault for a chance to woo Hermione Granger. And he very nearly does. Year after year, he gifts her the most perfect, thoughtful, elaborate Christmas presents. So why in Merlin's name does she keep getting mad? One of these years, he's bound to get it right. Isn't he? Draco paused and drank in her radiant expression, her wisdom, her never-ending quest to make everyone in her sphere of influence better—all the individual components that added up to the mathematically impossible sum that was Hermione Granger. “I don’t agree with that. I’d argue that the things we love never stop being special. Not for a moment, Granger.”

The Scent of Her by Catmint and Thyme (Languish_Locked_in_L) - E, WIP - Sent to investigate a dark artefact, Hermione and Draco end up snowed in over Christmas. It’s a good thing Hermione’s a beta, right?

Not What It Looks Like by eveningstruggle - M, one-shot - A hot, panicky hurt begins to throb inside her chest. This doesn’t make sense. Is it some type of horribly misguided practical joke? Revenge for shutting him down a few months ago? Or—is it a parting gift? A “so long and thanks for the memories, now I’m off to fuck someone else?” ”What—” Her voice croaks. She clears her throat and tries again. “What the fuck is this, Malfoy?” Confusion creases his forehead. “They’re photos of you.” She’s five seconds from bolting back through the Floo. “I can see that. Why have you given me two dozen terrible photos of myself for Christmas?” Or: Draco gives Hermione a Christmas gift.

Merry and Bright by Biirdiee_Rose - T, one-shot - Draco comes home a little earlier from work than usual, finding his children playing out in the snow as his wife watches on happily. Or... Peaking in through a window of the Granger-Malfoy family as the holidays approach.

Ugly Christmas Swearer by aplthree - not rated, one-shot - Hermione forces Draco to wear an ugly sweater.

A Running Start by sundayviolet - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco disagree with the DMLE’s assessment when their mutual friend and coworker, Theo, is poisoned. Alone at Hogwarts for Christmas, they must work together to find the truth. With their favorite buffer in the hospital, the two grow closer and finally admit what’s been long in the making.

Festive Ficlets by belladeexx - T - A collection of short works written for the holiday season.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by JessicaLovejoyAO3 - not rated, one-shot - Would Draco and Hermione falling in love at Hogwarts have changed the events of the Second Wizarding War?

[overlyimmersed]

🎁🎉🎂Happy Birthday Harlequin!🎂🎉🎁

Last year I designed an outfit for him, and I intend to do that this year as well, but since it took me till the 27th to finish Elaine's(her birthdays was the 15th) I'm not super confident that I'll have that finished on time. If I do, you're probably looking at that right now, but if not! Then at least this will be out on time.

Well that didn't work... My sleep schedual betrayed me and I didn't even get this posted on time... I meant to take a nap. I set 3 alarms. Did not work. Slept for 15 hours...

Anyway, this year, along side the outfit design, I'll also be doing an analysis that I've been wanting to do for quite a long while.

A name analysis!

Most of the characters in The Seven Deadly Sins -at least the important ones- have names relating to Arthurian myth, as the story is kind a based in it. But this, oddly enough, doesn't apply to almost any of the Fairies, even Harlequin -AKA "King"- despite him being one of the titular characters.

Meliodas and Ban are the fathers of two of Arthur's knight, Tristian and Lancelot respectively, Merlin is Merlin, iirc there are two different Escanors depending on the story, and Gowther is...apparently Merlin's half-brother according a glance at google... Diane's namesake is a little harder to track down, but she's not directly Arthurian either from what I can gather. As far as I know the only Fairy who does align with Arthurian myth is Elaine, but the Elaine that's Ban's wife is not the only Elaine you'll find in Arthurian stories, it was a common name.

Anyway

Most people know the word "harlequin". Simply put it's a french clown.

-Oh and apparently also a duck XD

BUT

Not everyone who knows that, knows where the word comes from, or what the king of the Fairies would have it for a name.

The origin of the word is actually a lot older than the french clown concept and isn't actually french all the way back. here's what Google has to say;

"late 16th century: from obsolete French, from earlier Herlequin (or Hellequin ), the name of the leader of a legendary troop of demon horsemen; perhaps ultimately related to Old English Herla cyning ‘King Herla’, a mythical figure sometimes identified with Woden."

I actually learned this from a youtube video some years back, by Overly Sarcastic Productions. It's a Halloween episode discussing the concept of the "Wild Hunt". I highly recommend the video and the channel as a whole, they're really great, very funny and you learn a lot. The video is a little under 17 minutes long, though, so if you're only interested in the part relevant this analysis jump to 11:05 in the video.

For anyone who doesn't want to watch that and would rather read me summerize it, in the video it's explained that the Scandinavian version of the Wild Hunt is called "Odin's Hunt" but in Old English it's called "Herlaþing" which means "Herla's Assembly". Herla being a King of the Britons who makes a deal with a dwarf where the two attend each other's weddings. The dwarf is a perfect guest at Herla's wedding and the following year Herla goes to the dwarf kingdom to return the favor. When he leaves the dwarf gives him a hunting dog and warns him not to get off his horse till the dog does. When they get back the dog doesn't get off the horse, Herla asks a random person they pass how his wife is doing only to find out that 3 days in dwarfland = 300 years in humanland. Some of his men are shocked and get off their horses, only to age to dust when they touch the ground, so Herla is stuck riding his horse for eternity.

The concept of an eternal wander was popular and in the 11th century a french monk/chronicler used the phrase "Familia Herlequin" to describe a host of demons pursuing a monk, lead by a masked giant. This masked hunt leader would evolve into the character we now know as a "harlequin", a trickster character is french passion plays.

God, king and trickster presented as a fool, that actually kinda tracks, doesn't it?

And that, is why the king of the Fairies is named Harlequin.

[viridiesa]

❝ 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, ❞ ▬ 𝐬𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒; you're the unintentional victim to an attempt on King Arthur's life and wake up days later in bed, being tended to by your beloved knight. ★ gwaine x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; angst, fear of loss, mentions of poison, mentions of death. {if you notice anything else that i missed let me know}

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄; first fic of the new account <3 requested on an old one. this is kinda a sickfic? i sorta went with the reader being unwell without the whole disease route. i love this man sm ugh.

𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇; 1125 words.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ★ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Waking up to the feeling of a damp cloth being dabbed at your forehead, you slowly blinked open your eyes. The top of his shirt hanging open, sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly dishevelled, Gwaine looked tired. Attempting to wriggle into a more comfortable position, you groaned at the much your entire body ached.

“Hey,” Gwaine said softly, a small smile forming as he looked down at you, “Don’t try and move, sweetheart, you’re still very sick.”

You wanted to cry, your head felt like it was about to explode or topple right off your body. Your neck was as stiff as a board and your throat felt like gravel. “How long was I-” you began, croaking like a frog before he shushed you.

“You’ve been asleep for three days,” he explained, “Gaius thinks it should only be three more before the poison is fully out of your system.” 

You frowned at that. Poison?

“At the feast,” he said, knowing just what you were thinking, “Sir Arnold’s serving girl put something in the wine. Apparently, it was intended for Arthur but it didn’t reach him funnily enough. Leon and Harry’s wife, Lady Evans also drank some.” 

“I-” you started, not really having any thought of what to say. Your eyes began to water and hot tears began down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey, ssh,” Gwaine whispered, reaching out to wipe your cheeks just as fast as they were wetted, “it’s okay now, you’re alright. Gaius had all the ingredients on hand and administered the antidote within the hour. More than long enough to make you better.” He continued to brush your cheek even after you stopped crying.

Putting the rag down on the cupboard at your bedside, he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and rose from his chair. “I had Merlin prepare you some soup in case you woke,” he said as he fetched the bowl from the table. As he returned with it, he lifted the spoon to his mouth to taste it. You frowned. 

“Can’t be too careful,” he said, sitting back in his chair. He shuffled it forwards until his knees were pressed against the bed. Taking another spoonful, he held it to your lips. “Just have as much as you can, darling.”

Still relatively warm, it went down smoothly and helped the dry ache of your throat. You had a couple more spoonfuls until you swallowed too fast and began to cough. Gwaine was quick to put down the bowl and spoon before helping you sit up against the pillows.

“I’ll pour you some water.” He took the jug from beside him and filled the goblet that sat next to it. Sipping it slightly, he waited a moment before handing it to you, gently helping tip some into your mouth for you to gulp down. When you put your hand up to say you had enough he put it back.

“Why do you keep doing that?” you breathed, voice steadier than before.

“You’re not having a sip of anything again until it’s passed my lips first,” he vowed, his tone suggesting he was joking but his eyes saying otherwise. Reaching out, you took hold of his hand where it rested on his knee. He gripped your fingers tightly as you smiled at him.

“Have you eaten today?” you asked. He looked down for a moment, chuckling at your ability to be concerned even while you were the one who had so recently faced death.

“Not yet.”

“And when did you last sleep?”

“Not since you’ve been unwell,” he admitted, preparing himself for your disapproval.

“Go to bed, Gwaine,” you whispered, “there’s no sense in us both looking half-dead.” 

He leaned forward and kissed your brow. “You’re a fool if you think I’m letting you out of my sight until you’re up and walking around.”

“Don’t be cruel to yourself,” you said, staring up into his eyes, rubbing your thumb along his knuckles, “you’ll end up bedridden if you don’t eat and sleep. Finish the soup.”

“That’s for you, my darling,” he said.

“I’m not hungry. Finish it and come ‘ere.” You patted the empty spot on the bed next to you. 

“Only for you, my love.”

Not bothering with the spoon, he tipped the bowl back and drank the rest of the soup. When he got up to take off his boots you noticed his sword leaning unsheathed against the wall nearby. Just in reach, you thought which made your heart sink. He grabbed it before he plodded around to his side of the bed. After putting it on his bedside cabinet, he climbed onto the bedding and inched closer to you.

“Expecting a hostile intruder?” you asked.

“You never know who’s gonna try to take you away from me,” he said, wriggling into a comfortable position beside you. Retaking your hand, he brought it to his lips and laid a kiss to your knuckles before holding it to his chest. Shoulders pressed together, you let out a deep breath, eyes falling shut again.

“I’d never let them,” you murmured, “you’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” He was silent for a while before adding: “I thought I was gonna lose you. For a while there it didn’t look like… Gaius wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

Shifting with a slight wince, you turn to look at him better. You tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and he turned his head towards you.

“I’m okay, Gwaine,” you said, “I promise. It’s okay now. I’m safe.”

“No thanks to me,” he breathed, the fear in his voice breaking your heart.

“You didn’t know, how could you have?”

“I don’t know, but I just sat there for a minute. After you fell out of your seat and I had you in my arms. You were so fucking still and I just… I couldn’t move. Percival grabbed you and ran to Gaius. If he’d been any slower, if I’d- you would’ve died because of me.”

Scooching closer, you let go of his hand and wrapped your arm around his middle. He lifted his arm to put it behind your back allowing you to press your cheek into his chest. “You were in shock, it’s not your fault.”

“But it would’ve been.”

“No,” you insisted, “whoever put the poison in the wine is to blame, no one else.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, not entirely taking your word for it now, “never again. I’ll protect you from anything and everything, whatever it takes.”

“You’re too good to me,” you said, kissing his cheek, “my handsome knight.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart,” he said, “now go back to sleep, you need to rest.”

“You best go to sleep too.”

“Of course,” he said, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄; hope you enjoyed <3 if you have any ideas, suggestions, or comments please comment on this post, dm me or drop your thoughts in my inbox! i’d love to talk to you :))

[queer-ragnelle]

So who among the Arthurian characters is into cottagecore? Morgan has to be right?

hi!

you know what i'm gonna have to disagree. i don't think morgan's affiliation to magic and nickname "le fay" are enough, especially bc she prides herself on a lofty status that elevates her above the humble rural living that cottagecore romanticizes. i mean here she is in the vulgate proclaiming herself a king's daughter (isn't she the daughter of duke gorlois?) while she prepares to kill her husband and get away with it.

queen shit. here are some characters i think would be into cottagecore.

arthur: when thomas berger wrote him as loving his simple life in wales with his family and sleeping out with the dogs and genuinely relishing his modest upbringing with his foster brother? i felt that.

blanchefleur: she definitely named herself "white flower" after her own garden's award winning blossoms at the county fair. she bottles it for perfume too, if you're interested. perceval always keeps a little vial around his neck so he can smell it and think of her while on quest or when he gets lost on his way to take out the trash. thanks wifey.

brangaine and palamedes: whether or not she can actually achieve this lifestyle whilst in the service of isolde, she definitely dreams of fleeing to the countryside with palamedes. it also makes his commute shorter (cottage is on the edge of the enchanted woods in which the questing beast roams).

culhwch and olwen: after the nightmarish tasks they underwent just to get married they absolutely retired far away from court life where those shenanigans wouldn't reach their children.

dindrane: she's the quintessential nun, one who didn't learn necromancy. she enjoys all the typical stuff expected in a remote hermitage; gardening, baking, making wine, going on an adventure bilbo style complete with chaotic means and tragic ends, bird watching.

fisher king and elaine: since the queen passed away they just want more father and daughter bonding time out on the boat to fish. they catch dinner in their little pond and take it home to cook and go to sleep happy. they do the same thing again the next day without any obligations besides living. nothing bad happens.

green knight and wife: pretty sure they invented cottagecore or at least introduced the concept into the realm. they have their own line of cottagecore starter kits with little seeds to grow personalized mini gardens for a country oasis even in the discomfort of your monarch-sanctioned barracks. so what if the plants they sell are annuals and you have to buy a new one every year. aren't you committed to the aesthetic?

isolde and tristan: did they or did they not smash in that grotto like their lives depended on it? i rest my case.

merlin: have you read mary stewart's merlin trilogy? my guy wanted the quiet life so bad it made him look stupid. he died as he lived, in the middle of fucking nowhere. say what we will he committed to the bit to the very end.

tor: he is literally a cowboy farmer kid turned knight. actually forget the whole list he's the only one.

thanks for the ask!

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

Propaganda under the cut.

Morgan Le Fay

Sure she may have come up with several plots to kill her sister King Arthur and also had her child through the use of merlin the dick wizard but she is hot and people tolerate her she also calls herself your wife no matter your gander

Edelgard Von Hresvelg

we love an axe user 🙏 she has a whole alter ego/persona just for conspiracy against the church. yeahhh she does a little murder but like, she’s kinda right

Caused insane discourse over whether she was right or wrong that has been going on for four years and will never stop.

She declared a war against the church and the class system of the continent, because she wants a better world, and that's nice she looked hot while doing it too, but her methods are questionable.

She started a war to get rid of the monarchy system in her continent since she believed the system rewarded only those with luck to be born with magic crests rather than those who worked hard. Said system combined with an underground organization that wanted to exploit said crests, allowed for her and her siblings to be experimented on and for most of them to die. Edelgard is desperate to get rid of the crest system fast, since the experimentation on her while it made her more powerful it also shortened her lifespan, war was the fastest way to get rid of it. In any other route of the games that isn't hers, it's heavily implied she sacrificed some of her allies to have an advantage on the battlefield. In the route "Azure Moon" where you support her childhood friend and enemy, Dimitri, in the war, Edelgard will sacrifice her body to become a monster and finally be able to kill you both. Even after Dimitri forgives her, Edelgard will try to kill him. I love her Qwq In her route you can help her become better, and see her hopeful rather than sunk in her obsession for her goal.

Edelgard is a total badass, kind of a fascist, and head of the war crimes committee. She partnered up with a group of comically evil mages in order to destroy the Central Church and overthrow the Archbishop/dragon that had controlled the country for over a millennia, declared war before the school year ended, roping all of her classmates into the conflict, and is even the first protagonist and first female character to fall into the evil emperor archetype. But with all her war crimes, she had a reason for everything, as she was trying to free the continent from the oppressive Crest system that determined people's value by their blood and caused her to be horrifically tortured as a child.