#hrtbrkprinces

       a  new  school  meant  jacob  was  once  again  a  L O N E R .   but  this  was  his  choice  after  all.  transferring  into  a  college  that  he  had  sought  after  for  years.   but  he  was  finally  here,  but  he  found  it  difficult  to  make  friends  when  most  have  known  each  other  already.   jacob  sighed,  as  he  continued  to  write  in  his  journal  all  his  thoughts  before  he  heard  a  group  of  guys  cheering  &&  yelling,  walking  past  him  in  the  quad.   one  in  particular  he  made  eye  contact  with,  leaving  him  with  a  smile  on  jacob’s  face  before  going  back  to  his  entry.

If you had told the two baristas that were working the cafe that night that they would both be entranced by the man who entered for the first time, Séb would have told you off and Lance, god forbid, would have laughed. He knew that there were people who weren’t just humans and he could tell that something about the man who walked in the door that clued him in onto a greater presence than a regular man. He didn’t even have to look at Séb to know that his friend was feeling somewhat the same. He knew that the older one would be a little less attuned to the needs of others, so Lance went ahead and took the customer’s order and if he flirted with the man, only he would know as he looked over the man. He sensed that he was going to be screaming by the end of the night, either because he had the man’s cock inside him or from watching his friend get railed. Either way, Lance was ready for the opportunity and as he forced Séb to make the food, he’d turn the open sign to closed and hope that he’d be able to be the first one bent over the counter, his pants around his knees.

Continued from here.

○ ′  ✨  int. pop’s  ⦙  @hrtbrkprinces 

Arthur Pendragon should be dead. It had been foretold - his death for Camelot, his blood at the hands of his son, a son he never knew had been conceived, nor with whom, until it was too late. The lad was already toddling by the time Arthur had been given the chance to recognize him, fair of face like his mother but something lingering about the eyes, like too much weight on shoulders too small to hold it up.

That weight had been prophecy, and prophecy had chased them both like dogs all their lives.

Arthur Pendragon should be dead and, yet, he was not.

Instead, he languished in a field tent, wounds soaked with healing herbs and the edges drawn together by the Merlin's gnarled, branch-like hands, sinew keeping his insides where they belonged. He had requested no visitors, once he was lucid, and none had come to see him. They were all too busy mourning their dead, a country so innumerable it turned the king's heart to stone, his life like ashes in his mouth, now.

A snarl curled the edge of his mouth, head snapping upward, when the tent flap opened, exposing the wounded king to the flickering lights of torches. Camlann had fallen on a night dark as pitch; they would not have survived, if not for that and the old wizard's trickery.

setting: gladiator and the lanista’s son

In the bowels of the estate, the training ground and household of the gladiators, the Ludus, was quiet. Kaius had won that day, and everyday that had preceded, had he not he’d be dead but with every victory the promise of freedom loomed closer. The Thracian did not care how many men, women, or beasts he had to kill, so long as he  won his lanista coin, he was of value. Enough coin, and Kaius would be a free man, he could lay his sword down and take up honest work. His father had been a fishermen, in an age so long ago that Kaius could scarcely recall, he’d been a slight thing, huddled on a boat with little more than a spear and a net to provide. 

Given his victory, Kaius should’ve been given at least a night’s rest, but guards arrived at the door to his cell and beckoned him out. It wasn’t the first time that he’d been summoned in the dead of night, to entertain the lanista’s parties, to be whored out for whatever purpose the man’s paying clients desired. He was a gladiator, and that was meant to mean something, but in the end he was little more than meat. 

The estate was quiet, however, and the lanista and his wife were nowhere in sight. Kaius recalled hearing something about them attending a party at the magistrate’s, leaving the household sparse save for some guards, the gladiators below, and other servants. He was led into the royal chambers of the lanista’s son, and as he entered the door closed and they were left alone. Given their setting, Kaius could only assume where this was leading, he’d seen how the boy watched him as he trained, how he cheered for him in the arena. Kaius slipped off his leathers, letting his meager coverings fall to the ground as he stood bare in front of the other.

“Is this why you summoned me?”