#Kingsman Merlin fic

[scarlettacklen1986]

I Don't Want To Rember •Kingsman Merlin•

Word count: 1157

Type: Angsty fluff

Warning: Mentions of Death and grieving

Paring: Merlin × Oc (description is kept limited name can easily be changed when reading)

Summary: Maggie can't process her feelings about Merlin coming back to her

Maggie was sat at the kitchen table again, it was nearly 3 am and her head was hung over a cup of coffee.

"Mag?" She looked up to see Merlin coming down the stairs of their house.

"Hey babe, I didn't mean to wake you," she smiled.

"You didn't, I woke up naturally, and realised you weren't next to me," he said.

"I just had a nightmare, don't worry about it,"

"What about?" Merlin asked sitting across from her.

"You know what it was about," she said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm alive darling," he reached for her hand but Maggie retracted her hand setting it in her lap.

"Sorry, I'm still shaking it off," she mumbled.

"I love you," he said

"Love you too,"

"Go back to bed," she said "I'll be up in a minute" she assured

Maggie never came back to bed, Merlin found her the next day on the couch asleep.

"I...I just don't know Harry, it feels like she's pulling away from me," Merlin said to Harry as they ate in his office.

"It was traumatic for her too, she watched you die, she grieved you, then she helped get you back and she helped Ginger with your surgery, she's probably still processing," Harry assured him.

"Why won't she talk to me about it?" Merlin asked.

"She doesn't talk about her feelings and she probably feels as though she shouldn't complain because you're the one who came back to life," he said.

"You make more sense than you should," Merlin said.

"I read a lot of romance books," Harry shrugged.

"You read spy novels," Merlin argued.

"I change the dust covers to spy novels," Harry said amused Merlin shook his head with a chuckle leaving to his own office.

He hadn't seen Maggie all day, she said she was too busy working vitals on Roxy and Eggsy's blood from their last mission, an undercover that went wrong and ended in both of them getting injected with a mix of poisons that they had to scramble to get an antidote to.

Maggie had been frantic figuring out the antidote as Eggsy sat holding a puke bucket as he threw up blood, Roxy held out bearly any better but she had gotten to the all-acting poison negator, all it did was slow the poison down.

But Merlin could see the file, she'd ran their blood and done every test she could on both their most recent blood samples and the ones taken when they were injected.

"She's probably working on a better and quicker antidote than what we had," Merlin mumbled. "Yeah, that's all she's doing,"

Maggie came home later than Merlin. "Hey, you hungry?" Merlin smiled.

"Not really, darling I've been working on a proper antidote for months, seriously months and nothing is working," she complained.

"Literally nothing! I can't even figure out what the poisons in that mix were, if I could do that, I could work out a mix of the antidotes for each of those poisons," she groaned as she collapsed on the couch.

"You'll figure it out my love, you always do," Merlin said kissing her cheek, Maggie smiled looking over her notes.

"Thank you, love"

"Put the notes down, they'll be there tomorrow," Merlin said later in the night Maggie sighed rubbing her eyes.

"You're right, I've got a couple theories to try in the lab tomorrow," she said placing the book down.

"Come on, to bed we go," he said holding onto her hand pulling her up off the couch.

"I love you," Maggie smiled kissing him, Merlin kissed back crowding her against the door.

He trailed his kisses down her neck, Maggie pushed away. "I. . .I can't I'm sorry," she said.

"What? What is your problem? Are you afraid to look at my scars? Disgusted? Do you think you're too good for me now? That I'm damaged goods now? Huh!" Merlin shouted.

"No! Of course not!" Maggie said quickly.

"Then look at me like I'm a person again!"

"I can't! Okay? I just can't! It's too much all I see is the view from your glasses as you exploded! How your voice just stopped! The blood on your glasses! And I had Ginger telling me we needed to continue the mission and help Harry and Eggsy! But I couldn't and then weeks later we found you and oh my god the state you were in.

I collapsed into Tequila, Then. . .Then Ginger needed help during the surgery and you were flatling and the machines were going off and Ginger was fanatically trying to get you breathing again and I. . .Froze until Harry came in to calm me down, tell me it wasn't you, it was any other agent I've performed surgery on, we had to cover your face, I could barely even function as a medic, never mind as your wife.

I sat on the floor of my surgery room just thinking, thinking, what if you died, what if you flatlined and I froze again with no one to help, what if you got better and went back into the field and you got hurt again and I couldn't do anything and every time I see those scars, It's all I think about, I can only see you nearly dead on my table, I love you but I'm scared!" She cried sat on the edge of their bed with her head in her hands.

"And I'm so selfish because I can't imagine what you're going through if I'm like this, I can't imagine what your head is like and I-I don't know how to talk about it because you don't like to talk about your emotions and I'm fine with that! Because it's always small things like Eggsy pissing you off, even when you were grieving Harry we didn't talk about it much I could deal with them, I know those emotions, I've felt them but how do I deal with this,"

Merlin knelt in front of her. "Maggie, look at me," he said gently.

"Don't act like I'm a child Hamish" She groaned.

"I'm not but I need you to look at me" he said.

Maggie rested her chin on her hands looking at him, he took her hand. "Trust me," he said gently, he moved her hand under his shirt placing it over his heart. "You can feel that right?" She nodded "I'm alive and I'm healthy and that's because of you and your amazing work, you keep each and every single Kingsman healthy and alive and I love you for that," he leaned up kissing her.

"How about this, we go to sleep, if you wake up with a nightmare, you wake me up as well and we work through it together, you're not selfish, this hurts you as much as me, I didn't suffer alone and you won't either,"

Maggie smiled kissing him "Thank you," she said gently.

They settled into bed, Maggie laid against Merlin's chest listening to his heart and it was the first time in months she'd slept soundly.

[tickle-bugs]

The Ol' Kentucky Welcome

Summary: Eggsy’s attitude gets him into trouble at Statesman HQ. Whiskey and Tequila show him how they handle mouthy recruits with too much pride.

Anon: Hey!  Love your work.  I was trying to think of something I haven't read.  So, kingsman and golden circle.  Maybe eggsy, whiskey, and Tatum s characters get real drunk one night, start teasing each other and a full out brawl of a tickle fight happens!!!  You can do it!!!  Thanks! 

Loose handwaving at and spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle.

Becoming a Kingsman had done wonders for Eggsy’s impulse control and sense of self. He’s got restraint now, and better judgement—he doesn’t blindly chase a whim without considering the consequences first. 

This is what he tells himself as he poaches a bottle of premium Statesman Reserve whiskey from a supply closet rather ominously labeled ‘This Ain’t For Sharing, Friend’. He makes sure to shuffle the bottles to disguise the large gap left behind on the shelf.

He settles in at the Statesman briefing room table, loosening his tie and shirt collar. He unbuttons his jacket and, in a rare flash of bad manners, kicks his feet up onto one of the nearby chairs.

The thought of Harry scolding him for it tugs at chest. 

“Now what do we have here?” Whiskey whistles lowly, ducking into the doorway. Tequila fits in beside him. Eggsy gives a mocking salute before popping the cork on the bottle. He grabs a polished crystal glass from a platter on the table and pours himself a hefty bit. 

“Looks to me like we’ve got a thief, Whiskey.” Tequila arches his brow. “Y’ain’t learned your lesson yet, Galahad?”

“Gentlemen.” Eggsy smirks and lifts his glass. The sharp kiss of the liquor burns his tongue, but it washes back with a smoky smoothness unlike anything he'd ever tried. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the slight twitch of Whiskey’s eyebrow in response.

“Thought you fancy-types were supposed to be polite.” Whiskey puts his hands on his hips. 

“And I thought you brutish types couldn’t make something so delicious.” Eggsy angles the glass in the light. The liquid seems to glow. 

Tequila ducks past Whiskey and takes a seat at the table, helping himself to a glass. He clinks glasses with Eggsy and they share another sip. Both of them sigh in unison, sinking deeper into their chairs. Whiskey throws Eggsy’s feet off his chair and takes a seat. 

“You’re lucky I ain’t reportin’ you to Ginger Ale for theft.” Whiskey fixes himself a glass. He takes off his hat and rests it on the table. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.

“Report me for what?” Eggsy cocks his head. “You fine, upstanding gentlemen cracked open a bottle of your own reserve to share with your guest and I just had to say yes. Would hate to be impolite.”

Whiskey glares. Eggsy sips innocently. 

“I like this motherfucker, Whiskey.” Tequila laughs, muffling himself in his fist. Whiskey shifts his glare. 

“‘Course you do. You can’t keep your mug outta trouble to save your life.” 

“Least my mug ain’t ugly,” Tequila grumbles. Eggsy snorts. Whiskey turns to fish for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. As he leans forward, a silver shine peeks out of his pants pocket. Eggsy gently plucks a shiny lighter from Whiskey’s pocket and tucks it into his own. 

“Champagne mentioned you’re a cheeky bugger.” Eggsy knocks shoulders with Tequila and winks.

“I dunno what that means.” Tequila frowns. They both watch Whiskey fumble around for the lost lighter and keep smooth, straight expressions. 

“You get into shit. He’s fond of you?” Eggsy gestures at him. Tequila nods. 

“Yeah, well…he wasn’t always. I’ve always been a bit of a firecracker. Didn’t make the best choices. Got people hurt. Built up a reputation for bein’ a problem, and Champagne started makin’ me own it.” Tequila watches his whiskey swirl in his glass. Eggsy hums thoughtfully.

“Sounds like Harry. He didn’t let me get away with shit. If I did something reckless, it was my arse on the line. But sometimes it paid off.” Eggsy smiles and thinks of stealing Harry’s cab on his way out of initiation. 

“To good mentors.” Tequila inclines his head respectfully and raises his glass. Eggsy clinks their glasses together. 

The three of them pass the time draining the bottle and looking out over the twinkling lights of the distillery buildings. A boyish mischief settles into Tequila, one that grows as the liquor in the bottle sinks. Whiskey starts to slur his words, but he maintains a hunter’s focus. 

“Tell me somethin’, Eggsy. What brought you to Kingsman?” Whiskey watches him over the rim of his glass. His stare is piercing. 

“Hm. Harry did. Not so different from Tequila, I reckon. I’d made a right fuckin’ mess and Harry saved me from it. Gave me a job. He saw something in me that no one else did.” Eggsy traces his fingers along the edge of his cup. He glances absently towards Harry’s cell and sighs quickly. Whiskey follows his gaze. 

“Did your lepidopterist friend teach you to have sticky fingers, or do you just like causin’ problems?” Whiskey holds his hand out. Eggsy rolls his eyes and hands over the stolen lighter.

“I’ve always been good at nicking things. S’fun.” Eggsy grins and produces Whiskey’s wallet. Whiskey grumbles under his breath and snatches it. 

“Feels like you’re the only one of your people that ain’t all hoity-toity. What other secrets are you hiding?” Tequila leans forward. The question grates against Eggsy’s better instincts. He searches Tequila’s face for the slightest bit of ill will. All that sticks is the way light catches softly on his eyes. Eggsy hums and turns his eyes to the ceiling to think.

“Well, my girlfriend bein’ a princess isn’t much of a secret anymore, so…I was a gymnast for a bit.” Eggsy grins. Tequila’s eyes light up and he starts snapping in Whiskey’s direction. For each snap, Whiskey gives a disgruntled hm until eventually they’re just swatting at each other. 

“Whiskey, don’t we have them flippy bars down in the gym?” Tequila sniffs, blinking as the liquor hits his sinuses. Eggsy perks up. A spark of excitement picks up atop the warm flush of liquor in his stomach. 

“We do. For Statesman agents. Y’know Rum and Cognac get real touchy ‘bout their stuff.” Whiskey raises an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re workin’ together now, ain’t we? ‘Sides, Rum and Cognac ain’t here. Let’s walk him down there. I wanna see what he can do.” Tequila claps Eggsy on the shoulder. Eggsy gives his best winning smile. Whiskey grumbles, then downs the rest of his glass. 

“Fuck it. Fine. Five minutes.” 

…

They stumble down to the Statesman training facility, passing by a very tired Ginger Ale who opts not to ask why Eggsy’s wearing Tequila’s hat (pretty simple, it’s ‘cause he nicked it). Whiskey puts his thumb to a scanner and the wall unfolds for them. 

The lights click on in rows, lighting the industrial space. Eggsy gasps like a kid on Christmas morning. 

Sophisticated weight training and combat equipment sit in neat rows. Eggsy locks in directly past that, drifting unconsciously towards a heaping pile of chalk bags. Pommel horses, beams, bars, and hanging rings sprawl out on a spring mat, all in pristine condition. A few launchpads and trampolines lay near the equipment. Eggsy laughs incredulously as he takes it in. Nostalgia flutters in his chest. 

Eggsy immediately unbuttons his shirt, folding it cleanly and crisply. He shoves it and the cowboy hat into Tequila’s arms, adjusts his tank top, then works to unlace his shoes. The moment his feet are free, he sprints for one of the springboards. He hits it clean, just like he’d learned, and pushes off the vault, twisting through the air. His landing is a bit messy, but it’s functional, and he takes off to the parallel bars next.

The alcohol writhes in his system, but he doesn’t care. How can he? It’s been years. Coach’d told him he was good enough for the fucking Olympics and he hadn’t touched a set of bars since. The flex of the bars is a comfort to him. He flips and twirls, holding crisp handstands and tucks through muscle memory alone.

He dismounts beautifully from the parallel bars to the pleasant thrum of adrenaline and a smattering of applause. 

“Hoowee, that was somethin’!” Tequila ruffles Eggsy’s hair, destroying the last hold of the gel on his head. Eggsy laughs and swats him away. 

“Hats off to you, kid. Takes a lot of skill to pull that off.” Whiskey nods in respect. Eggsy returns it. 

“I ain’t gonna lie, I thought you were gonna fall on your ass. I’m impressed.” Tequila slugs his shoulder with a brassy laugh. 

“Thanks, Tequila.” Eggsy grins roguishly. “Mind givin’ me a boost?” 

“Sure.” Tequila follows Eggsy over to the high bar. Whiskey loudly clears his throat. 

“Boys, this has been…eye-openin’, but we really should get goin’. Early start tomorrow, I imagine. And this one’ll be fit to collapse when the time difference catches up.” Whiskey inclines his head towards Eggsy. 

“Sorry, bruv? Can’t hear you all the way over there.” Eggsy gestures to his ear with a cheeky grin. 

“I said—“

“No, no. If you have something to say, come whisper it in my fucking ear.” Eggsy snickers, hearing Merlin’s voice in his head. Whiskey rolls his eyes and saunters over. 

“Look, I respect you ‘cause Champagne respects you. Other than that, you’re still a brat that oughta fall into line. Let’s turn in for the night. Both of you.” Whiskey raises his eyebrow. The honey tones of his voice make his annoyance all the more amusing. 

“What’re you gonna do about it? Get me with your skipping rope?” Eggsy smirks. Tequila mutters a quiet aw hell and takes a step back. 

“Maybe I will, you little shit.” 

Eggsy comes to terms with a number of things about himself in that moment, and he puts them all away to process sober. Instead, he gestures for Tequila to give him a hand and reaches up for the bar. 

Tequila picks him up by the waist, and it’s not the smooth, assisted lift he’s used to. It’s the clumsy grip of a drunk surprised by weight. Tequila does lift Eggsy up to the bar, but at the cost of his dignity— he spasms and makes a high-pitched noise when Tequila’s fingers press into his waist.  

In hindsight, he should’ve seen the way Whiskey’s eyes narrowed at that. 

“What the hell was that?” Tequila squints up at him. 

“Nothin’. Thought you were gonna drop me. Bugger off.” Eggsy kicks weakly in Tequila’s direction. He backs up, hands raised. Whiskey steps in, hands on his belt. 

“Get off the bar, Eggsy.” Whiskey sniffs authoritatively. The logical Kingsman agent buried in Eggsy’s brain sets off warning bells, but Drunk Eggsy, who is obviously of much sounder mind, ignores it. 

“Make me, Whiskey.” Eggsy starts to swing in the space he has. Not enough to kick anyone, but enough to look like he will. He manages to rotate clumsily around the bar once, then hangs back down in front of Whiskey. 

“You want me to embarrass you in front of your new friend? Okay.” Whiskey steps up to Eggsy and makes a show of sizing him up. Then, quicker than the draw of his pistols, his hands latch onto Eggsy’s sides and squeeze until he’s screaming and plummeting off the bar. Eggsy’s short life flashes before his eyes as he falls bodily into Tequila’s arms. 

“Are you fucking mental?” Eggsy goes to shove Whiskey, but Tequila holds him back. 

“Woah, watch that mouth of yours!” Whiskey laughs, eyes glittering. “You told me to make you. Your wish is my command, friend.”

Eggsy kicks, trying to break Tequila's hold, and he catches Whiskey right in the balls. He makes a noise like a wounded donkey and folds over. Eggsy snickers. Whiskey whips his reddening face up and glares. 

“Now you’ve done it. Tequila!” Whiskey tosses something his way and he catches it. Eggsy barely has time to react before his arms are bound and hoisted in the air above his head. His toes brush the ground. The bar above him creaks in protest but does not give. 

Whiskey puts his hands on his hips again. Eggsy wonders if that’s a cowboy thing or an American one. 

“Skippin’ rope, bitch.” Whiskey grins, sharklike. “Now…you done with the whole insubordination routine or am I gonna have to give you the ol’ Kentucky Welcome?” 

Eggsy snorts derisively. He tests his bindings. They hold steady. Fear starts to pierce through his liquid courage. 

“I’m honored, bruv, but I’m in a committed relationship—“

Whiskey clicks his tongue and crowds into Eggsy’s space. He immediately steels himself for violence—what else would there be besides violence? He’s been jumped before. He’s no stranger to the predatory tilt of Whiskey’s head. He sets his jaw and glares. 

“When Tequila first joined up, he carried a bit of them clownin’ instincts with him. That didn’t fly with Champagne. We had to figure out a way to take him down a few pegs without hurtin’ him. So, the Kentucky Welcome was born.” 

“Aw, fuck you, Whiskey. Seriously, man.” Tequila pipes up from behind Eggsy. 

“What does this have to do with me? I know you Americans love to hear yourself talk, but I’m not interested.” Eggsy tries to pull free. Nothing. Whiskey’s gaze gets softer, more mischievous. The change is deeply unnerving. 

“Well, you remind me of Tequila. You’ve clearly got a good head on your shoulders, but you’re a little shit. So I’m gonna deal with you the same way we used to deal with him. Last chance, kid. You comin’ quietly or are we gonna have to drag you?” 

Eggsy flinches when Whiskey reaches for him—years of habit die hard—and prepares himself for the hard crunch of knuckles into his ribs. Instead, he’s met with a gentle and persistent scritching. 

A confused noise bubbles up at the back of Eggsy’s throat, quickly chased by a wobbly smile. He ducks his head and bites his lip. 

Oh what the fuck? 

Kingsman had taught him to resist the most painful and stressful of scenarios, but they’d never taught him what to do about this. Tilde’s maybe the only person who knows that he’s ticklish, and even then…he can convince her to let him go by kissing her senseless. Eggsy doubts that’ll work here. 

“Uh oh, Galahad. Don’t tell me something’s botherin’ you?” Whiskey presses an insincere hand to his heart. Eggsy’s brain stutters for a moment as he realizes that Tequila’s the one scratching at his ribs. 

“Fffffuck you.” Eggsy exhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes--nope, that’s worse. So much worse. 

Whiskey tickles under his arms and Eggsy yelps, bright laughter tumbling after. It shouldn’t be this bad—Tilde’s done far worse to him in jest, but somehow the teasing grin of his begrudging allies gets under his skin. His arms flex as he tries to pull himself up and away, but his strength collapses with every breath. 

“Aw, y’all are twins.” Whiskey leans around Eggsy to smirk at Tequila. 

“Whiskey.” Tequila’s languished tone being hilarious really doesn’t help things. Eggsy’s entire face scrunches as he tries to find his way back towards composure. A hiccup sneaks into his chest, and then he’s giggling incessantly. His chest feels like the sparklers he’d run around with as a kid, bright and fizzling and dissolving with every breath. 

“Y’know, I wish I had tried this when I first caught y’all. Prolly woulda gone a hell of a lot faster.” Tequila’s voice floats past Eggsy’s ear. Eggsy manages a giggly growl and a halfhearted headbutt in his direction. Tequila tuts at him and folds his fingers into Eggsy’s waistline. 

He makes a noise at a pitch that threatens to shatter every lightbulb in the room. Tequila’s calloused fingers strum Eggsy’s nerves like guitar strings and it tickles, fucking shit—

Tequila hooks his fingers just so and Eggsy kicks. Whiskey snags his ankle before a second devastating impact can occur. They make tortuous eye contact. 

“Whiskey—“ Eggsy attempts to appeal to the cowboy’s humanity with what Merlin fondly calls his nuclear puppy eyes. 

Grinning wickedly, Whiskey shakes his head and reaches for his trapped foot. 

Eggsy’s eyes bug out of his head. 

He wrenches his leg free, twists his hands, and flips upwards. Managing a gold-worthy handstand into a dismount, he frees his wrists and lands smoothly. Eggsy playfully curtsies. Tequila starts to clap. Whiskey smacks him upside the head.

“Alright, I’m done playin’ around. Grab him. If we’re caught down here at this hour it’ll be my hide.” Whiskey gestures for Tequila to step in. He does so, still a little off-kilter from the liquor. 

Eggsy rushes in, expecting a clumsier rendition of the fighting style he’d been so painfully introduced to. Instead, Tequila smoothly blocks his blows and hoists Eggsy over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes. One of his arms locks behind Eggsy’s thighs as they start to walk for the door. It takes him a moment to even process being upside-down. The sway of Tequila’s gait shakes some blood into his brain.

“Aw, y’all are twins.”

“—deal with you the same way we used to deal with him—“

A lightbulb clicks on in Eggsy’s head. He shouldn’t…but he could…but he shouldn’t—

He shoves his hands under Tequila’s arms. Before he can blink or breathe, they’re in a heap on the ground. Tequila’s cackling dead weight presses the air from Eggsy’s chest.

“Thought you’d put up more of a fight, bruv.” Eggsy’s eyebrows raise. Tequila shrieks at him in response. Eggsy manages to wiggle free and hop lightly to his feet as Tequila gathers his wits. 

“There’s one of you and two of us. Be wise.” Whiskey cracks his neck. Eggsy looks over at Tequila and smirks devilishly. Tequila pales. 

“I like those odds.” 

The flurry of motion as they charge each other sets off the ‘fight’ center in his brain, but there is some comfort in knowing no harm is on the table. Eggsy flips and twists out of their grasp, taking advantage of his flexibility to pull off increasingly ridiculous dodges. He neatly sweeps both Whiskey and Tequila’s legs out from under them. 

“Little help?” Whiskey gestures lamely at Tequila. 

“Nah, I’m done. Y’all are nuts.” Tequila lays on his back, putting his hat down over his face. He folds his arms behind his head. Whiskey curses at him. Tequila gives him the finger. 

Whiskey grabs Eggsy by the back of the shirt--really, he should know better--and Eggsy sweeps him again. Whiskey’s ready for it this time, though, and he manages a pin faster than Eggsy can roll away. Whiskey plants himself on Eggsy’s back like he’s settling on a bull. 

“Aren’t you tired? Goddamn.” Whiskey sighs. Eggsy winces at the texture of the mat against his cheek. 

It reminds him of Roxy and agonizing training sessions, of hours of sweat and bruising and his face stinging from being slammed into the mat. Even past the wave of grief, he remembers the shape of her smile when she would lecture him about letting her pin him on his stomach. 

“Indefensible,” she’d say, prodding the back of his ribs. “You’re a sitting duck like this.”

And every time he’d roll his eyes, hooking his fingers behind her knees--

Oh. Hm. 

As best as he can, he reaches back and latches onto Whiskey’s thigh, squeezing just above his knee. Whiskey hollers and tries to phase right through the floor. Eggsy rolls them over and pursues, squeezing and squeezing until Whiskey is a wheezing pile on the floor. 

Eggsy flips onto his feet. He knows he’s imagining the fond, ghostly squeeze on his shoulder, but he puts his hand on the spot anyways. 

“Now I’m tired. Goodnight, fellas.” Eggsy salutes with a wide grin, stepping over both cowboys. He gathers his belongings and saunters for the door, whistling pleasantly. 

Whiskey rubs a hand over his face as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Kid’s fuckin’ lucky I like him,” Whiskey grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows. 

“Might not wanna speak too soon. He took your hat.” Tequila puts his own ten-gallon back on his head and gestures towards the door with a whistle. Whiskey growls and shoots to his feet. 

“Motherfucker! Eggsy!”

[kingsmint]

HOLY SHIT I JUST REMEMBERED A HC I HAD TO SHARE BECAUSE IT CAME UP IN MY MIND ONE DAY AND IT DIDNT STOP BOTHERING ME.

Both Harry, Merlin and possibly any other agent must have had really close contact with explosions at one point right? Especially Harry because if I remember correctly, in the first movie, he was saved by a grenade in 1997, and then blown up by his own grenade while escaping the university and then the church scene, AND THEN in the golden circle where Merlin blew up. (i still refuse that merlin died so he’s alive and im being delusional shh). He could literally by hard of hearing, almost deaf, or have tinnitus.

Merlin as well but not a lot since he was just behind the desk, but when he exploded (and survived.) he most likely had some acoustic trauma as well.

EVEN EGGSY CAN YOU IMAGINE?? Even though bro was a field agent for a little while having done a few missions (evident in the golden circle when he pins his own newspaper articles on harry’s wall) being in the field often enough he would eventually also have acoustic trauma.

So literally almost everyone at kingsman wear hearing aids and has learned sign language and learning sign language has become mandatory for training ever since Harry began his reign as Arthur. Agents also had to get specially designed hearing aids from medical and R&D when it gets  b a d. Since the glasses also has a microphone implemented in them, Merlin upgraded them so that live translation/subtitles could appear. (it became extremely useful for missions but the microphone can only pick up so far, yknow?)

[wellensittich01]

Seeing a fandom legendary fic that’s unfinished and clearly abandoned update after literal months/years

[brinleyparke]

Kingsman Fic Ideas/Prompts

Charlie gets kicked out or at least punished for the water prank.

Parachute test fix-it (Perhaps Merlin takes a minute to understand why Eggsy has said chip on his shoulder)

What if Eggsy and Charlie were the last two in the parachute test?

"Manners maketh man. You'd do well to remember that Mr. Hesketh." Or Harry is none too pleased when he finds out how Charlie has been treating Eggsy.

What if Charlie had passed the loyalty test?

Harry lets Eggsy teach Dean a lesson after Eggsy fails the final test and comes home and finds out that Dean hit his mom.

Post-TGC: Merlin lives, but Eggsy still feels guilty.

Merwin or Gen: Daisy asks Merlin to dress up as Gru for Halloween so that her and Eggsy can be minions.

H/C after train track test

Maybe Eggsy is upset that he was drugged.

Maybe Eggsy has been drugged before, so he has a panic attack or a nightmare after the train test.

Maybe Eggsy is still freaked out a little because he thought he was gonna die.

Eggsy gets de-aged to 4 years old (mind and body). Harry takes care of him until they can turn him back. (GEN FIC) Based on this fanart:

Harry apologizes to Eggsy for what he said and the assumptions he made in the Black Prince.

Tilde tells her parents about Eggsy.

After the toast to Merlin, Eggsy leaves the room (maybe he goes to the bathroom or something) and breaks down. Harry or Tequila or Ginger Ale comforts him.

Tilde meeting Daisy and Eggsy's mother for the first time.

Post-TGC: Eggsy has nightmares about Merlin and almost losing Tilde, and Tilde comforts him.

During training, Eggsy has nightmares about Dean.

After Merlin's "most dangerous job interview" speech, Harry explains the bruises on Eggsy's cheek and neck.

After the water test, all of the recruits receive physicals. Eggsy doesn't have much medical history because Jamal treated most of his injuries. The doctor and/or Merlin are concerned about the scars and/or broken bones or bone fractures that didn't heal properly.

"When was the last time you ate?" Or Eggsy's first meal at Kingsman. He's not particularly gross or rude about eating; he just eats very fast. Roxy or Merlin is concerned. In other words, Eggsy has food insecurity issues.

"What's his story?" Or during or after TGC: Ginger Ale or Champ is curious about Eggsy, and ask Harry what Eggsy's story is. Or maybe they ask Eggsy himself

Songfic based on "Waiting For Superman" by Daughtry about Michelle waiting for Lee to come back home even after Harry told her he was dead.

Songfic based on "Save Me" by Jelly Roll

Songfic based on "How to Save a Life" by The Fray

Eggsy dresses up as Robin Hood for Halloween. 🔥🔥🔥🥵🥵🥵

Reacher (TV) x-over: Tequila tries to recruit Reacher.

Reacher (TV) x-over: Dixon or Neagley is recruited to Statesman to be the new Ginger-Ale

Arrow x-over: Kingsman needs the Green Arrow's help.

[renx01]

Playing Along - part 2

Prompt: “Just play along, please” inspired this multiple part fic, in which agent Galahad and Kay are on a mission together in the French Alps. Here, they have to pretend to be a couple, despite the two of them being rivals and Kay always wanting to beat him at everything. Pairing: Harry Hart x Kingsman!Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: fake dating, slowburn, rivals Word count: 1820

Part 1 Masterlist

The dinner was quite awkward to say the least. While you and Harry usually could talk or banter about many different topics, the outburst earlier made it difficult to not immediately respond angrily. Before you got here, Harry had informed Merlin of the situation, who didn’t seem completely opposed to the idea of you spending some time with Angelo and his fiance. He said that he sees it as an opportunity to learn more about them, their interests, and their personal life. Even better, it will probably be an opportunity to gain their trust. Agent Galahad didn’t like that Merlin is very much open to executing your plan, but since the Scot is the one that coördinates certain aspects of the mission, he didn’t have much of a choice. Now he seems to want to avoid you altogether, still, you’re sitting in a fancy restaurant with the older man opposite of you.

You lean your head on your head as you wait for the main course to arrive. ‘Harry,’ he looks up, ‘perhaps we should talk this out?’ There’s no reply, which is unusual for him. ‘I’m being serious.’ Your voice stern, but he only scoffs. ‘Why am I to listen to an agent of inferior rank in the way I have to now?’ His voice is almost venomous. ‘I wouldn’t talk to agent Kay like this if I were you Galahad.’ Merlin warns, his voice sounding through your glasses. You were quite glad about the restaurant setting rather than having to have this conversation in the chalet, where there would be a high likelihood that you wouldn’t be wearing your glasses; meaning that Merlin, who is immensely respected by Galahad, wouldn’t have been able to jump in and defend you. ‘Inferior rank? Really Harry? Not very gentlemanly of you to have such reservations.’ You stand up, ‘Do excuse me for a moment.’ and you walk to the toilet. For agent Galahad to call your skill into question purely due to him thinking he has a higher rank was painful. It was something you hadn’t been particularly insecure about before, as he’d never given you a reason, but the comment stung. Besides, it wasn’t as if your ranks were different. You’ve recently been promoted by Arthur, making you one of the head agents, like Galahad. The problem here lies in that this mission was planned before that, and you suppose that Galahad hasn’t been informed of the promotion yet. What is more infuriating, however, is the fact that with his current behaviour, he’s endangering the mission as a whole. You were meant to be a couple, but right now you are acting very far from being one. After taking off your glasses, you splash some water from the sink into your face. When you look up, you see Guillia through the mirror in front of you. She smiles at you. ‘Good evening.’  You smile back. ‘Evening.’ After a short pause you speak again. ‘Aren’t you Angelo’s fiancée?’ She nods, confirming what you already knew. You hold out your hand. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Cam.’ She smiles in recognition. ‘Oh yes, I think he’s told me about you. We’ll be showing you and your partner around the resort tomorrow, right?’ You nod, acknowledging and confirming her question. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ She smiles but frowns shortly after. ‘Are you doing okay?’ The confusion on your face must’ve been obvious. ‘It’s your eyes. I know what it’s like not to be happy, so what’s going on between you and Harry?’ Obviously, you couldn’t tell her what was actually going on, but it’s of importance it’s believable enough. ‘We’re having a bit of a disagreement. I just…’ You look down. Silently, she puts her hand on your shoulder. Don’t worry about it too much, just try to talk it out.’ Her voice is soft and you nod. ‘Thanks.’ ‘I’ll see you later.’ She smiles at you and leaves. Moments after, you put your glasses back on. ‘Agent Kay, you alright?’ You confirm. ‘Of course Merlin. I just needed to take a moment, sorry about that.’ He sighs. ‘It’s very understandable. Galahad crossed a line there, so feel free to take your time.’ Your eyes shift toward your own form in the mirror. ‘I’m fine. It’s fine.’ Your breaths are slow and steady as you get back into the zone. Despite not actually believing your own words, your training kicks in and you push aside your feelings and emotions. ‘Galahad was wrong to say such a thing. I’ll talk to him later, Kay.’ As you’re about to leave the bathroom you reply. ‘Don’t, Merlin. It’s nothing, I really don’t care.’ But you did, and Merlin knew that, yet he didn’t pry any further in that moment.

‘Cameron.’ Harry greets you. ‘Harry.’ 

Despite the tension which is still palpable, you sit back down and smile at the agent. Before you’re able to say anything, another course arrives at your table. ‘The salmon… You didn’t take in anything else the waiter said, as your focus shifted to the table besides you. It’s a couple you don’t recognise, but they seem to be talking about some important business. Once you’re able to, you snap a picture of the couple and send it to Merlin so he can check it out. ‘Enjoy.’ Harry tells you before starting to eat. ‘You too.’ You say, turning back to him and quietly following his lead. It was quite enjoyable, despite seafood not usually tickling your fancy. The courses which followed varied greatly in style, yet in a way, they seemed to follow a theme and add to one another. Because of the type of restaurant this is, it has quite a few more experimental dishes or elements within the dishes. It isn’t really your cup of tea, but you can appreciate the work which goes into it.

As you ate it was mostly silent, only making a few comments about the food when it seemed necessary. Harry did, however, try to seem somewhat romantic by holding your hand or tucking your hair behind your ear as you conversed about everything yet nothing at the same time. You, of course, know better than that. All of it is with the goal of keeping up the charade of the two of you being a couple and in love. It was quite useful however, since Angelo and Guillia decided to come say hello shortly before they were meant to leave. 

‘Glad to see you took my recommendation seriously, Harry.’ Angelo smiles at your colleague. ‘I hope everything is as good as expected.’ ‘Everything is quite lovely. Thank you very much, Angelo.’ The conversation continues comfortably, exchanging opinions on the dishes you’d tried, but also ideas on how you’d be spending the following day. As the men converse, Guillia turns to you. ‘Hope it’s been resolved.’ You smile at her and nod, ‘Yes, we’ve cleared up our disagreement.’ lying through your teeth. ‘I’m glad.’ She sounds earnest. 

‘Why don’t you two join us for coffee?’ Your desert had been finished for a while and you craved an espresso; or something stronger. Angelo waves to the waiter to add two chairs to your table and they sit down, joining you. You decide to not drink anything stronger, as it’d be too risky, Harry on the other hand, does order a Scotch. The couple orders an espresso and schnapps for each of them. The previously tense atmosphere has calmed down now that you’ve been joined by others. Still, Harry is holding and caressing circles with his thumb on your left hand, as if he’s not even conscious of doing so. You shift your attention to Angelo, who’s sitting besides you. He proposes you meet around 10 near the gondolas so you’ll have plenty of time to explore the resort. You agree before looking at your “partner”. He follows suit and agrees. The smile he flashes doesn’t fully reach his eyes, though the only reason you notice is due to your training and the many hours you’ve spent with him. 

The night eventually comes to a close with Harry paying the bill and the four of you quietly leaving the restaurant, going your separate ways in the parking lot. Before you’re able to open your own car door, however, Galahad opens it for you, closing it once you’re sitting comfortably. He walks around the car and gets in on the driver’s side. The ride back was spent briefing the evening and Merlin informing you about the other guests you’d noticed during the dinner. They weren’t too important, but they might have useful information. This means that getting closer to them couldn’t hurt and might be profitable to the mission. Still, it’s something you’d have to consider carefully, especially when your colleague was already so apprehensive about getting closer to two of the targets despite it being a part of the mission. 

Once you arrive back at your chalet, you quietly get out of the car. Entirely ignoring agent Galahad trying to act gentlemanly and open the door for you, as you are still very much angry with him. Those few fake acts of affection didn’t take away the words he said to you earlier. ‘Cam, we need to talk.’ He says as he follows you inside. ‘Galahad, what is there to talk about? Your lack of professionalism?’ You turn to face him and he hesitates for a moment. ‘If we want this mission to be a success, I need you to get that stick out of your ass and at least pretend you enjoy spending time with me.’ The door to your room is on your right. You open it and start stepping inside. ‘And by the way, I got promoted by Arthur recently. We’re the same rank.’ He looks like he’s about to say something, but you slam the door in his face and lock it. Whatever he says after is muffled and you ignore it, taking off your glasses and quietly getting out of your suit. The muffles did continue for a couple of minutes, but eventually Harry gives up and leaves. Silently, you sit down on your bed, realisation hitting you. This week-long mission was going to be more difficult than you’d expected, especially when Harry’s acting the way he is. He’s more defensive than usual and does not seem like he wants to take any risks he deems unnecessary, despite the two of you being some of the most highly ranked and experienced agents within Kingsman. ‘What even is going on with him?’ There was nothing competitive about the way he has been acting. Perhaps, he was just done with you, done with working together as closely as you have been. After this mission, he’d probably request for the two of you not to work together in the foreseeable future. At least, that’s what you tell yourself before laying down to sleep.

[stronglyobsessed]

It's the first year Eggsy and Merlin decorate for Christmas without their son, Max, and the first year they'll be without him during a Holiday. They're both struggling, despite all the good their son will be doing, and how proud they are of him. Resigned to the fact their son won't be there, Max finds a way to make his dads Christmas special.

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #6

xxx do or die

Eggsy isn’t sure where it all went wrong, exactly, whether it was a single bad decision or a million smaller ones that led him to walking directly into a trap. What he does know is that he’s monumentally fucked up, and now he’s going to pay for it. Probably with his life. He’s spent the last several weeks searching for the person or persons responsible for a string of disappearances within the SIS.

Well, he found the bastard. 

Or rather, the bastard found him.

Eggsy hadn’t even had the chance to fight back before he’d been injected with something and then he woke up here, handcuffed to a chair in nothing but his briefs. Even his earpiece is gone. His captor is standing in front of him, picking at his fingernails with a wicked-looking knife. 

He’s wearing Eggsy’s glasses. 

“These aren’t even prescription,” the man says, tapping at a lens with his knife. “And knowing you super-spy types, I’m guessing they aren’t just for the aesthetics. Is there someone watching you then?”

Eggsy doesn’t answer, just grits his teeth. It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep the snarky comments at bay. The man smirks

“There is, isn’t there. I’ve got an audience for this one. Now, that’s interesting. Changes my timeline a bit, perhaps, but I can work with this…” He tucks the knife into a sheath at his hip and then reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out brass knuckles. He makes a show of putting them on his right hand, admiring them for a second before looking up at Eggsy, clearly gauging for a reaction. 

Eggsy doesn’t give him one. 

The man smiles again, then moves forward so suddenly that Eggsy doesn’t have time to brace himself before he’s smashed in the face, his head snapping to the side, a gash instantly opening across his (probably broken) cheekbone. He doesn’t move for a moment, just blinks a few times as he waits for his head to clear. And then he lifts his head and looks directly at the man, ignoring the sharp pain in his cheek and the accompanying ache hammering through his skull.

The man smiles. 

“You’re a tough one. Tougher than I’d’ve guessed from your fancy suit. I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

xxx 

It’s rare that Merlin feels completely helpless. But right now, that’s exactly what he is. Eggsy had been taken suddenly, without the chance to even activate his distress signal. It’s only because of the captor’s carelessness that Merlin even has eyes on the young agent--he’d tripped the glasses when he put them on, leaving Merlin with a front row seat to his violence. Eggsy is being held underground, so drones are useless, and Roxy is the only agent anywhere close to where Eggsy’s been taken. 

All Merlin can do is watch, and hope that Roxy gets there before Eggsy is killed. 

The kid is tough. Merlin knows that, had known it before they’d even started training. He had to be, otherwise Harry would’ve never brought him in in the first place. Even bloody and half-conscious, defiance is openly visible on Eggsy’s face. He obviously knows how to take a beating. Not that that makes this any easier.

The man’s been working on Eggsy’s ribs for the past few minutes. Merlin can hear the small gasps as the wind is knocked from Eggsy’s lungs. Every few blows, the man lets him catch his breath before starting in again. He hasn’t asked any questions. He isn’t looking for information. Merlin doesn’t need to see the man’s face to know that he’s doing this for no other reason than that he enjoys it, the sick fuck. 

It makes Merlin feel sick to his stomach. And it makes him angry, a simmering rage that he feels throughout his whole body. His hands are clenched into tight fists, knuckles white.

“Still not a peep?” the man says, his voice a mixture of surprise and amusement and annoyance and, beneath it all, the barest hint of admiration. He holds his bloodied hands up and turns them slowly, getting a good look at them. 

And then he brings the brass knuckles down and Eggsy’s knee, hard, and this time Eggsy screams.

“Bastard!” Merlin yells at the monitor, his heart hammering.

His fingernails dig into his palms.

He doesn’t notice.

Eggsy is panting now, his chest rising in small, sporadic bursts, and Merlin knows he’s struggling to catch his breath while also trying to keep from breathing so deeply that it hurts his fractured ribs. He looks up at the man, and while Merlin knows that Eggsy is looking at his captor's eyes, it feels like he’s staring directly at Merlin. Into him. 

“Lancelot, where the fuck are you?” Merlin doesn’t even try to keep the urgency (bordering on panic) from his voice as he looks over at the monitor that has Roxy’s feed.

“I’m still four minutes out from the coordinates you sent me, I’m moving as fast as I can,” Roxy responds, and it’s obvious that she’s as distressed as he is. “Have you found anything on the kidnapper?”

“Nothing,” Merlin says. “Haven’t had a good look at his face and there’s been no luck with voice recognition. Bring him in alive if you can. But you do whatever you have to do to get Galahad out of there, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

Merlin turns his full attention back to the screen in front of him and his blood runs cold. The man has traded out the brass knuckles for a knife. 

“No,” Merlin says aloud. He doesn’t know who he’s speaking to, but he says it again, leaning forward in his chair. “No!”

The man steps toward Eggsy and places his left hand on Eggsy’s shoulder, bringing the knife up to Eggsy’s face. Eggsy flinches away from the blade and the man laughs, drawing it down his cheek. A thin line of blood wells up behind it. Eggsy’s gaze flicks up to meet the man’s, and once again Merlin finds himself staring into his agent’s eyes. 

There’s something different in his expression this time, and Merlin isn’t sure exactly what it is, at first. And then he realizes. Eggsy is looking at him. 

“‘s’okay, Merlin,” he says, voice low.

“Merlin?” the man laughs. And then he plunges the knife into Eggsy’s side.

“No!” Merlin screams it now, grabbing the edges of the computer monitor. “Shit! Lancelot, get in there now!”

He’s barely gotten the words out of his mouth when the man turns, and suddenly Merlin is looking into Roxy’s face. 

“Where the fuck did you come from?” the man says, and then the picture cuts off and the screen goes black. 

xxx 

Roxy fires two more tranquilizer rounds into the man’s back before she’s on her knees, patting down his unconscious form until she finds the key to the handcuffs. 

“Lancelot, update!”

“The suspect is down, but alive, I’m pretty sure,” Roxy says as she hurries to Eggsy’s side.

“And Eggsy?”

Eggsy is in a bad way. His face is a mess, with several open cuts leaking blood that runs down his neck and his bare chest. There are angry red bruises forming along both sides of his ribcage, and his left knee is dark and swollen. Worst, though, is the stab wound in his belly, which is leaking blood at an alarming pace, a small puddle already forming on the floor beneath him. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like he should be alive. But Roxy can see the shallow, rapid rise-and-fall of Eggsy’s chest, can hear the short, labored breaths.

“He’s alive,” she says as she hurriedly undoes the handcuffs, willing her hands to be steady because now, more than ever, she needs them to be. “We need medevac.”

“They’re on their way with backup, just a few minutes behind you.”

“Good,” Roxy says, shrugging off her jacket and balling it up as best she can before pressing it against the wound. Eggsy stirs, letting out a weak cry, and Roxy grimaces, looking up at him as his eyes flutter open. His mouth turns up in a weak smile that quickly vanishes into a wince. 

“‘ven smilin’ hurts,” he mutters, and his words are thick and clumsy around the blood in his mouth. “You…took your fuckin’ time. Wasn’ sure you’d get here.”

“Of course I got here,” Roxy says, heart plummeting as Eggsy’s eyes start to flutter. “Stay awake, Eggsy!”

“You’ve got to keep him awake!” Merlin says into her ear. 

“I know, I’m trying. Come on, Eggsy. Come on!” She pats his face and he stirs, looking up at her. She tries to smile. “The hard part is over, all you have to do now is keep your eyes open. You can do that, right?”

“Trying,” Eggsy gasps. “Ain’t ‘s easy as it looks…S-sorry.” His eyes roll and then his lids fall shut, his chin dipping down toward his chest. 

“Eggsy!” Roxy swallows the lump in her throat. “Hang on. You just hang on, Eggsy.”

xxx 

It takes two surgeries, a dozen units of blood, and a chest tube to stabilize Eggsy. Merlin watches over him through all of it. It isn’t until he’s settled into the recovery wing that Merlin dares leave his side.

“Would you like me to call you when he wakes up?” a doctor asks as Merlin steps into the hall. 

“Yes, please,” Merlin says. “How long?”

“A few hours, at least.”

Merlin nods thoughtfully. “A few hours will be plenty of time.”

And then he heads for the holding cells, letting the relief he’s feeling give way to a cold, hungry rage. His fingers twitch in anticipation.

There’s a conversation he’s very much looking forward to having.

xxx 

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Third time's a charm another 🥨 pls

Here are some more of my favs!

Star Wars: Remnants Masterlist by @dailydragon08

The Charm by @dailydragon08

Archery Lessons by @theelvenhaven

Since Yuletide by @okay-j-hannah

A Little Tension by @maybecoolwords

Pattinson Bruce Wayne Fic by @imagine--if

Palomino Masterlist by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Orange by @tegerton

What's In A Name? by @companionjones

Scott Lang Fic by @whirlybirbs

[mugchild]

Ok I don't often post my own work, but this was too funny not to.

[scarlettacklen1986]

Dreams come true •Kingsman Merlin•

Word count: 400

Type: Fluff

Warning: Non

Paring: Merlin × Oc (description is kept limited name can easily be changed when reading)

Summary: Merlin goes to find Maya when she sneaks away from from a party to think to herself

"So I've lost Morgana," Eggsy announced as he walked up to Harry and Merlin at the Kingsman gala.

"She's probably hiding away," Merlin said handing his drink off to Harry leaving the large hall.

The corridors were quieter than the hall, Merlin checked where he usually found, Maya, Agent Morgana, when she decided to hide away and think, the gardens.

He went out to the garden found her sat on a low wall in the gardens, a beer bottle next to her, dressed in a bright red formal dress.

"You're a long way from the party, princess," he said.

Maya looked up from the ground smilling. "Yeah, lots people, lot of noise, you know what I'm like," she said.

"Understandable," he said "What were you thinking about?" He asked sitting next to her.

"Do you ever think that your dreams could come true?" She asked as she swung her legs.

"No," he replied quickly. "Why? Do you?"

Maya frowned slightly. "No. . .Just wondering" she said, Merlin nodded. "If you could have a dream come true? What would it be?" She asked.

"Honestly? This is my dream, I've never thought of anything else," he shrugged.

"Absolutely nothing? You've only ever wanted to be a quartermaster? You've got no dream?" She asked.

"Maybe a nice healthy marriage, a dog but yeah Kingsman is all I've ever known, next to the army and Kingsman has a much nicer uniform" he said.

"Do you have other dreams?" He asked her.

"Mhm, I guess, it's dumb." she shrugged.

"What is it?"

"I want to live out in the country, nice little house, a couple of dogs maybe, married to a nice guy, work in a little family bakery," she said.

"I guess a healthy relationship is a dream for every Kingsman," Merlin said taking her drink from the side stealing a sip.

"Expect Eggsy, he got it " Maya shrugged.

"So tell me, who is this perfect dream husband?" He asked.

Maya took her drink back from Merlin taking a long drink of it. "Well he's tall, he dresses well, a little older then me with glasses, bald and a rich thick Scottish accent," she said.

Merlin looked at her surprised. "Me?" He asked.

"Mhm, you occupy alot of my unconscious mind apparently," she said.

Merlin slid off the wall coming to stand infront of her, his hands rested on either side of her.

"What other dreams have I been involved in?" He asked lowly. "A lot of them," she mumbled "Maybe dreams do come true," he said tipping her chin to look up at him, kissing her gently.

[snafu-07]

There’s this Merwin fic I adore where Merlin is this huge dark Dragon, Harry is a vampire, and Roxy and Percival are wizards. It turns out Eggsy is a dragon too but his mum forced some med on him that suppressed his dragon and when he finally gets to experience being a dragon he’s this teeny tiny gold one. Who hoards trainers 🥰

Well I was at a craft faire Sunday selling my earrings and this lady was selling 3-D printed dragons and wyverns. I saw this tiny gold one and had to adopt him as a desk pet. He’s so cute!!

Please meet Eggsy.

[breakaway71]

Monthly Fic Recs - February 2024

You may notice that I, uh. Did not keep up with the Fic Feature Friday thing. *sheepish grimace* But! I am determined to share fic recs! So monthly ones it shall be. Mostly, these are all recent things, and to be honest I've read very little fic at all this year, wrapped up in new job and life stuff. But there's some great stuff here that I did manage to read in the quiet in-between times, I hope you find something to enjoy! And so, in no particular order except how I bookmarked them, THE RECS! STRANGER THINGS In the Kitchen or the Tulips by teddywesworl, ~44,000 words, Steve/Eddie Eddie’s face is way too hot, and the damn heart monitor is gonna give away his secrets if it doesn’t shut the fuck up. Steve Harrington carried me out of Hell, he thinks, deliberately. A prickle of something frantic festers at the base of his skull as he pictures himself limp in Steve’s arms, Steve’s hands clutching at his filthy jacket, his blood-soaked jeans. Did he have to do CPR? Did he peel Eddie’s clothes away from the gore of his midsection to get a look at the damage?

Did he touch me? Did he touch me? Did he touch me?

OR: A touch-activated telepathic soulmates AU.

Renegades (Leave a Light On) by queerofthedagger, ~67,000 words, Steve/Eddie Eddie doesn't expect to get into trouble for his recent drug business, although he probably should have. Even less does he expect Steve Harrington of all people to save his sorry ass with a nail bat that looks awfully at home in his hands. Least of all, though, does he expect Harrington to insist on skipping town for a while to avoid the fallout.

The Winter holidays of '84 seem intent on proving him wrong on all fronts. Thrown into a spontaneous road trip-slash-cut-and-run to San Francisco—just until things back home blow over, Munson—Eddie has all the time in the world to confront such questions as: why would Harrington care to help him? Why does he wake up from nightmares more often than not? And, maybe most importantly, why is the former King so ready to leave Hawkins behind on a whim?

Or: idiot boys make impulsive idiot decisions, and along the way—reluctantly but inevitably—they fall in love. A story of endless winter streets, finding family, and leaving home to find a new one. MERLIN Albionist by Galauvant, ~1,700 words, gen Arthur & Merlin (& Aithusa) The cry sounds again, and Arthur’s feet freeze, a chill sliding down his spine. There’s something hauntingly familiar about the cadence of the sound.

It’s not quite the same, but Arthur just knows. It’s impossible, but he knows.

He draws Excalibur now, quickening his pace, but his feet are light.

Minutes later, there it is:

A white dragon- a living, breathing dragon roughly the size of a stallion, crouched in front of a cave. One of its wings is held at an odd angle, and unlike the giant monstrosity that once terrorized Camelot, this one looks gaunt and weak.

Or: In a handwavey canon divergence where Arthur knows about Merlin's magic and Aithusa escapes captivity, there are two men and a young dragon.

KINGSMAN: THE SECRET SERVICE Magic Maketh Man by Brokenpitchpipe, ~17,000 words, Harry/Eggsy It takes Eggsy three seconds to tear his eyes off the feed, slam the laptop shut, apparate to Harry’s side, and somehow manage to get back to St. Mungo’s with the added weight.

It takes him another two minutes to realize that Harry’s glasses are still on his face, and the tiny little LED atop the brow is still blinking obediently.

Merlin’s goddamn balls. He’s fucked. TEEN WOLF (Don't) Stay by alocalband, ~18,000 words, Derek/Stiles Stiles goes away to college, and Derek suddenly falls ill. Obviously, the two things are completely unrelated. And, obviously, Stiles doesn't make the drive back to Beacon Hills at every available opportunity, to the detriment of his academic career, because he's secretly in love with the guy. That would be ridiculous. STAR WARS (original trilogy. yes i am confused by this too.) Take Care by spqr, ~12,000 words, Han/Luke The time dragged, and dragged, and the Falcon didn’t help matters by breaking whenever Han looked away for a second. It was like she didn’t want them to get where they were going, like she was actively sabotaging herself — an insane thought which Han kept to himself, since he didn’t want Chewie to smack him in the head, until the fourth literally brand new part broke in the space of an hour and he said in despair, “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re mad at me too, baby,” and looked up to find Luke watching him thoughtfully, crouched at the edge of the open hatch.

“I can talk to her, if you want,” he offered.

[hopeamarsu]

Whumptober Day 4: Dead on Your Feet

Whumptober masterlist

Merlin (Kingsman) x gn!reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 579

Warnings: Wounds, explosion, arguments, sexual tension

Summary: You and Merlin make a good team and your communication is good. Except when it comes to wounds.

Hidden Injury | Waking up disoriented | Can’t pass out

“Is that blood?” 

You eye at his formerly crisp white shirt with anger brewing in your voice. You might be dead on your feet, but it doesn’t lessen the sharpness of your mind.

Merlin looks down on his shirt and grimaces when he sees the blooming red circle. “Oh,” he breathes out, his hand coming up to touch the crimson. It comes off sticky and the image of his red-stained hand is forever etched into your brain. It’s not an image you want to see. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Your voice grows higher, the fear and annoyance battling for dominance. Maybe it’s even a bit hysterical as a result, but you don’t draw any attention on it, instead plowing on and demanding an answer. 

“There wasn’t time,” Merlin replies almost nonchalantly as that’s just that. Like he got hurt and it’s no big deal. Just something that happens on the daily. 

Your eyes narrow and you step forward, trying to intimidate the tall man in front of you. “There. Wasn’t. Time.” You pause between each word, emphasizing the point, eyebrow raised. He looks at you pointedly and then back at the smoking building behind you before returning to you, his eyes flashing challengingly behind the dark rimmed glasses. Almost as if he’s daring you to contradict that. 

“When?” You huff, teeth pressed tight together. You will not grind them together, but it’s a close call. You eye the bald man, the sole occupant of your dreams and now the biggest annoyance out there. You are a team! Teams are supposed to lean into one another! Team members are supposed to tell the others when they are hurt! 

It’s a miracle you can keep all that inside and not shout them in his face. You feel like you want to go all mother hen on him, strip off the shirt and press your fingers to the wound and stop the bleeding. You want to scold him for not telling you before kissing him so that you know he’s alive and well. You want to wrap him up in bubble wrap and protect him from the world. You want to take care of him in all ways possible. 

“Tristan…” His voice warns you, but you plow ahead. 

“Merlin! For fucks sake, you tell me when you got hurt!” Your faces are now closer than ever, sharing the same air and it crackles with the energy shifting from you to him and back. The urge to kiss him intensifies, a need to make sure he truly is alive and well taking over every sense you have. Your arm twitches violently, reminding yourself that you are hiding a wound of your own, and it pulls you back to reality. With one final breath shared, you back away slowly. 

“Nevermind. Let’s get moving, we need to get to the safe house,” You mumble, eyes pointed downward. You refuse to rub the spot that aches, even if the feeling is driving you mad because that would just defeat the purpose of your rant. You will the pain to lessen, futile as that may be. 

There is another shift in the air, like he senses you are hiding something too but Merlin can’t get any words out before something explodes in the background and the sound of shattering glass can be heard in the air. You share a brief look and a nod in agreement; you can continue this argument later. 

The two of you begin your painstaking trek towards safety in silence, both with more unspoken questions and answers in your mind. 

[derailedfiction]

Run boy, run | Merlin | Kingsman

Chapter 2: A dog's life

Pairings: Merlin x Cecilia (OFC) | Merlin & Roxy & Eggsy| Roxy & Gary “Eggsy” Unwin | Percival & Roxy | Percival & Gary “Eggsy” Unwin | tbs whatever you can think about probably will be there Word count: 5492 Warnings: violence, swearing

Summary:  It had been nearly a month since the Valentine’s Day and during it, he couldn’t recall any free moments. Because Arthur was dead, the issue of having a new leader was an especially urgent matter and until the new leader was found, he must have had everything under control, even the process of choosing a new Arthur. It could last for a few months just because other Kingsman’s cells had to have started their recruitment for fallen agents only then the final recruitment could be made.

A/N: I wrote it in 2015 pls have mercy on me. Also pls forgive me if there's somewhere Max instead of Hamish, I tried to change all of it.

He opened his eyes with hesitation. The few moments of precious sleep had just gone away and once more, he needed to face the reality, which was really gloomy. It had been nearly a month since the Valentine’s day and during it he couldn’t recall any free moments. Because Arthur was dead, the issue of having a new leader was an especially urgent matter and until the new leader was found, he must have had everything under control, even the process of choosing a new Arthur. It could last for few months just because other Kingsman’s cells had to have started their recruitment for fallen agents, only then the final recruitment could be made. All this time he hoped that the superior unit was most important and finding new leader for it should be top one priority, but unfortunately that dream was only realistic in Hamish’s dreams. He stretched his muscles cautiously so he wouldn’t wake up Cecilia, to whom he moved closer as soon as he finished stretching. With sleepy smile he thought about his luck, that he met the right woman at just right time and she had prevented ending one of his missions in rather tragic way. He could lay all day long looking at her and admiring her perfection but as he thought about all his responsibilities, he felt weary.

All this time Hamish remained silent to listen to her calm breath and peaceful dreams.

“You’re truly an adorable creature,” he whispered and kissed her arm.

“Mish, what’s the time?” she turned around to him and stroked his cheek. “Do you have much to do today?” As an answer, she received a tired sight and dismal moan. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Is it?” she asked as he rolled eyes.

Hamish left one more kiss on her collarbone and sat up.

“I’d let somebody cut me for one peaceful day…"he sighed as he took the glasses from bedside table.

Cecilia moved to him and hugged his waist. "Don’t be so drastic… That would be a shame if somebody cut you, Mish,” she murmured into his ear causing a pleasant shiver.

“Are you visiting your father today?”

“Yes. He’ll send car for me and Alex…” She said with very unhappy face.

She got up and stretched after her sleep. He was observing her over an arm. The view was quite absorbing as the t-shirt she was sleeping in was too short and when she rose her hands up it showed her haunches. Hamish smiled to himself until he realised that glasses were recording everything and he quickly moved head back. As soon as he got to the headquarters, he needed to delete this video before it was sent further.

“Prepare yourself to work, put on some nice suit and in the meantime I’ll make your favourite coffee. What do you say on that?” she asked while entering the wardrobe just to go out in blue dressing gown.

“You’re an angel, Cissy,” she gave him one of her brightest smiles. “How’s your arm?”

“Not that bad actually. After a month of rehabilitation, it’s quite good but sometimes it hurts like a hell. Good thing I got some free time from work.”

“Are you doing it on purpose?” Hamish asked with slight annoyance and jealousy. As an answer, she shrugged her arms with boorish smile.

“I don’t know my dearest. Am I?” She gave him a mischievous look as she left the bedroom.

Of course she did it on purpose. She always did and she loved teasing her husband. It was like a small hobby of hers if she got bored. However, Hamish wasn’t any better, and when it came to teasing between them quite often it was he who was winning. Fortunately for her, she had some other techniques to get him into the shape she liked.

Carefully she entered her son’s room to check if he was still asleep. As she heard his quiet and peaceful breathing, she left the room.

“Where are my shirts?”

“One should be in the wardrobe. If not check bathroom, I think I ironed one,” Cecilia answered Hamish’s whisper in a low voice to prevent waking up the boy. Her gaze rested on his well-shaped abs. “My God. One day you’ll give me a complex for being in such good shape, Hamish…” He laughed silently at that and disappeared in the bathroom.

Cecilia slowly went down the stairs watching out for her left foot so in the future she would be able to wear high-heels without more than usual pain. The best solution would be to lay down with her leg up but having Hmish and Alex to care after she had no free time to do so.

The kitchen looked like a battlefield as she was quite a messy chef, and Hamish would only sometimes be willing to clean after her. With a sigh on her mouth, Cecilia put the plates after yesterday’s supper into the dishwasher and started preparing coffee in tact with energetic music from radio. First, she turned on the express and then she grinded the coffee beans, and in the effect kitchen was full of characteristic and intense smell.

“Uh… How can he drink such horrible thing?” she wondered out loud checking if Hamish wasn’t standing right behind her. If so he’d look at her judgmentally with a look annoyance put on his face.

The blonde-haired woman sniffed at the grinded coffee and with highest level of disapproval she filled the express with it and put a cup under it. Even though she wasn’t a lover of the drink she was very proud of herself for possessing the ability of making one of the best coffees ever. With pleasant whistling, she continued preparing some breakfast for her husband.

“I heard you were talking shit about coffee,” his voice made her jump as she didn’t expected it at all.

“MISH! How many times do I have to repeat myself about that?!” she reprimanded the grown-man-adult. “My God like a child. What are you laughing at?”

“Anger marrs beauty, Cissy. Don’t make such a fuss about it,” she snorted angrily.

“Perfect timing for coffee,“ she handed a cup of aromatic coffee to him. "An espresso so you can be awake all day long,” after that she gave him a plate with eggs, toast and bacon. “And breakfast, so you have enough power to deal with today’s oncoming shit.”

She turned around to brew tea, whistling quietly at the same time. She would start dancing a little bit if it hadn’t been for her husband’s remarks about it.

“Well, well, at least someone is in a good mood,” he commented her actions and drank all of his coffee with one sip.

She shrugged, licking the teaspoon from the honey in a very suggestive way.

“Cecilia, calm down please,” he tried so hard not to look at her.

“No, no, no… You don’t talk like that to me, Hamish or you’ll be late for work,” he raised a brow as he heard her answer with the fake Scottish accent.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Never!” Cecilia looked at him in disbelief trying to retain her poker face, but just a second after she burst into laughter.

“Sometimes I wonder why I married you,” he shook his head, trying to finish his meal without any disturbance from Cecilia.

“Because I’m making the best coffee you have ever drunk,” she said confidently.

“True,” he agreed finishing his breakfast and standing up.” I need to go. I’ll be late so don’t wait for me with dinner and be nice to your dad,” he kissed her forehead between the sentences. “Send him my regards.”

“Of course. I’m sure he’ll be happy as usual.”

Her smile brightened his morning, and was the only good thing in it as he thought about it. Cecilia looked through the window when Hamish got into black car and drove away. With a slight sigh she braided her longish hair in a loose braid and approached the stairs.

“Alex! Get up, little one! You need to prepare yourself to visit grandpa!” the woman shouted and waited close to the stairs until she heard some kind of movement and sound of bare feet on the floor. Only then did she return to the kitchen to prepare food for herself and her son.

***

“Lancelot, I hope you have good news from the United States and their presidential crisis?” Merlin started as he sat down in the armchair in the main seat at the table. Even though he was sitting there for over a month, still the feeling remained unusual and it was hard for him to get used to it.

“Yes, I do believe so, Sir,” she started looking through her notes, which she had made last night. “As the great part of the previous government were killed on Valentine’s day, they had to choose some unconventional practices and within a week there are going to be held elections. The candidates are nothing special, which makes me think that they’re just figures and someone else will guide them from behind the scenes. But for now it’s not our problem, so I think that America’s issue is closed for some time.”

She finished just in moment when Galahad with his smug smile entered the meeting room.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he seated himself at Galahad’s seat.

“Eggsy as you took Harry’s place, it would be more suitable for you if choose to wear more formal clothing, especially for the meetings,” Merlin pointed out wearily, looking on the boy’s outfit with doubt.

“I know, I know. I was late anyway and if I had to put the whole suit on too I’d have been even later. Sorry for that. Won’t happen again,” he ensured, with nod to Lancelot as a form of greeting.

“Well then, getting back to the other crises; The European countries did exceptionally good work with overcoming ruling problem. The United Kingdom after losing its Queen, which is irreparable loss, won’t be the same again but the royal family is quite big so we can be queer for new King William. Unfortunately, I cannot be so optimistic when it comes to Kingsman. Glasses, please.”

He waited until they put on glasses and then he showed diagrams and names of fallen agents in the incident.

“As you can see all over the world, each cell of Kingsman has lost an agent or two. Which is not a good thing for overlay. If we stay weakened for too long it would make for a great opportunity to attack our organisation," while talking he changed the page and pointed out average number of deaths in European countries in comparison with other world’s countries. “Yes, Galahad?”

“What about new Arthur? As you don’t want to stay at his position – “ he started but was interrupted by Lancelot.

“Is there another recruitment oncoming?” she asked with her eyes on Merlin.

“Yes, there will be another recruitment, but unfortunately I have to wait until the other cells will start their supplemental recruitments.”

“Merlin, what is the point of it? There will be no such good candidate as you to take over Arthur,” Eggsy insisted on getting a more specific answer.

“Well thank you, but I do not see myself as a leading figure of this agency and I do not feel competent to do so. Therefore I believe that my concerns are good enough to start procedure for casting a new Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was peremptory and the forceful gaze he put on Eggsy, made him quiet for a few precious moments.

“What will the procedure look like, Merlin?” Lancelot queried trying to put the tension down.

“Good question, Roxy, but I’ll get to it later, as I haven’t finished with the number of deaths. Now, other agencies; FBI, CIA, MI5 and other intelligence organisations registered high numbers of fallen agents and unfortunately some of them, such as directors and important agents, were found out to be enlisted by Valentine, which basically meant their heads blew up,” he showed the last diagram and paused.

“Why are we looking at these week after week,” Eggsy wondered aloud, not even trying to hide that he was a little bit bored.

“Because, Galahad, the numbers are still changing, and even after a month the number of people killed grew, just because of maybe a simple miscalculation, and we need to be updated about any changes,” Lancelot answered the question, forestalling Merlin.

“Now, we can get to the current order of business. On Friday evening, recruitment for Tristian’s place will begin. I’m giving you two days so you can find your candidates and bring them here at 9 P.M. This time Percival will take care of the process and our candidates,” Merlin said with a bitter voice.

If he had to be honest, he’d love to run the recruitment for fresh, untrained minds which he could evolve into something great. It was something that gave him, maybe not the meaning of the life, but hope that one day, when he would be much older, the future would be as bright as today’s or even brighter because of high-trained, Kingsman agents, who were prepared for everything. The sight of people getting better and better was giving him pleasant chills and he didn’t want to give it up.

For now, he had to be satisfied with the part that didn’t suit him at all. Taking care of almost everything was slowly driving him crazy and he was exhausted of it. He knew he could depend on Lancelot, Galahad and Percival for finding needed backup information but his old habits were pushing him to prepare weaponry by himself, making all charts and numbers to presentation. Merlin was overworked and pushing himself to his limits. He couldn’t stand that Kingsman was literally on the bottom of its previous glory. It seemed to him, that the organisation was falling down and he felt obliged, in memory of Harry, Lancelot, every single fallen Kingsman agent, to keep it safe and bring it back to its previous glory.

But if that was going to happen the new Arthur had to be chosen and that wouldn’t be an easy assignment to accomplish.

“Now, answering to your question Lancelot. The recruitment for Arthur’s replacement will look much different from what you have been through because there will be no freshmen. To replace the head of our organization, each cell must provide one candidate. It must be one agent, the best agent on Kingsman’s behalf,” Merlin said after a little break. He still wasn’t sure who was going to be the representative of headquarters, and he was silently counting that Percival would agree.

“Will you be our candidate, Merlin?” Merlin looked at Eggsy with sight.

Huh, you’re not the only one who is wondering about that boy, he thought.

“I’m not sure, Eggsy. There are other agents who can be suitable candidates to represent us. And I’m sorry to inform you, that you won’t be taken under consideration even though I know you are valuable agents,” he pushed up glasses as he continued, “The other rule is that the candidate must have served the agency for no shorter than five years and must be older than thirty-five years old. So no offence but you’re both too young and too inexperienced.”

Merlin was about to add something else but was interrupted by Percival’s entrance. He was holding a couple of letters, which he handed Merlin.

“Thank you, Percival. Have you got what I asked you for?” he asked with light smile as he checked the addresses on envelopes. “I was just introducing Eggsy and Roxy to the rules of choosing new head of Kingsman.”

“That’s good. It’ll be useful in short future as we have to vote for our candidate. Also I’ve got what you wanted, and even something more,” Percival couldn’t help himself, and a self-satisfactory smirk appeared on his lips, “As you asked, I’ve contacted the heads of other Kingsman’s cells to start thinking about their probable candidates. At the moment three of them sent me back information about their candidates. Also two of them, the Australian and Middle-Eastern cells have already started supplemental recruitment.”

“That’s great news. Now Percival, I want you to contact some independent agents from our safe-zone and find one who would be willing to run the show. You know the rules,” Merlin noted something in his electric notebook. “From now, Galahad it’s your responsibility to check on, and receive information about the statuses from other Kingsman’s cells on their recruitment. As for you, Lancelot, you’ll be completing a list of candidates for Arthur’s place,” he paused as he looked at each of them. “All right, I believe that’s everything for now. You’re dismissed.”

Eggsy was the first to get up and leave, but just next to the door, he waited for Roxy.

“So have you thought about your candidate?” he asked with a grin.

“Not really, no. But in two days I think, I’ll figure somebody out. And you?” she looked at him as they went on to ground floor.

Their dogs were waiting patiently for them and as J.B. saw his master his tail started moving faster and not long after he was jumping around Eggsy’s legs, while Roxy’s poodle remain still.

“Good job, come here girl,” she called the dog and petted her lovingly. “So? What about your candidate? Do you have one?” Roxy put her eyes on him.

“Yes,” Eggsy answered with wide grin.

“And what? You’re not telling me anything about him or her?” she queried with narrowed eyes.

“All I can tell you is that if my candidate wins, you won’t be the only girl here, Roxy,” Eggsy shrugged.

She looked at him with a gentle smile. That would be a quite surprise if he brought a girl but frankly speaking, like a Galahad Senior, like a Galahad Junior, Eggsy was full of surprises and even though he was following the rules, he was doing it quite differently than the other Kingsman agents.

“What you’re lookin’ at?” Then she realized she was staring at him.

“Nothing Eggsy. I was thinking, maybe we could go and do some shooting training?”

Roxy changed topic with a little blush on her cheeks. She knew he would see it, but was thankful he didn’t make any remarks about that.

“Good idea but if you lose, you’re gonna be my slave for one day!”

She laughed loudly.

“You? Win? Over me? You sure you’re all right? I have better scores at shooting than you, Eggsy. That is no mystery,” Roxy said and let her poodle go onto the grass outside the building, “And I’m terribly sorry to say that but you’re going to be my slave, Eggsy.”

“We’ll see about that…”

He said it with so much confidence that she smiled again. He was a helpless patient with his cheeky temperament.

“C’mon girl, we don’t have all day!” Eggsy shouted as he was running outside to the rifle range. She shook her head and followed him.

***

“Merlin, could you tell me why you are changing the rules?” Percival asked as he was looking through the window.

“Why do you think? I’m just making them more useful,” he shrugged, while reading the letters, “Yes, I perfectly know that I should choose one of the main agents, but Percy that would take just too much time. Anyway three of our agents are heads of cells so I know them,” Merlin continued as he felt the sceptical look he received from Percival.

“That is exceptionally good, Merlin but they’re three out of eleven, except the candidate from headquarters which –“

“Won’t be me, Percival. And you know perfectly well why,” Merlin interrupted his friend looking up from the letters.

Percival stood shocked. He said nothing, as he knew Merlin was stubborn as a hell if he didn’t want to do something. He slighted wearily, checking through the window if Roxy or Eggsy weren’t about to blow up the rifle range, then he moved away.

“Sometimes you’re worse than Cecilia with your stubbornness,” Percival started, carefully choosing his words. ”But the fact is you need to know all the candidates and their abilities so you can make the right decision.” He finished as he took his seat right next to the Merlin, waiting patiently for his response.

“Percy, that’s why cells must send me all documents of the candidate, mission statuses and results of previous missions. Their tests, all of them. I will know everything about them before beginning of the recruitment. There is no need to worry.”

Merlin’s voice was confident and strong but Percival knew he had some doubts. Even though, he hadn’t shown many emotions, Percival knew that Merlin was the one who hadn’t gotten through Harry’s death and Chester’s betrayal. Of course, it was hard for all the agents but Merlin had practically been brought up in this place and Chester had somehow been like a father to him.

“All right, if you say so, but you must remember that on Friday we’ll be voting for the candidate and I’m pretty sure you’re a very serious candidate, Merlin. There’s no doubt about that,” Percival continued his little tirade hoping that he could make Merlin change his mind.

Merlin only cleared his throat in annoyance, because Percival wouldn’t do anything else but literally harass him by talking about it over and over through last month. Merlin swore to himself that if Percival would talk about it one more time, the man would end up on the Moon.

„Good Lord Percy, you’re a pain in the ass…”

“Because I know, you would be a great leader. You’re just a little bit too lazy, my friend,” he quickly moved aside to avoid a pen thrown by Merlin.

“Percy… Get out or I’ll go for more advanced weaponry, and we’ll see who is a little bit too lazy. Because one of the fires is going to burn your ass off, my dear friend.”

Percival chuckled and rose his hands up in surrender. He was aware, Merlin had all the needed abilities to be a leader, to be a damn good leader too, but he needed to stop being so childish when it came to the bloody recruitment. He didn’t tell Merlin, but since the incident he had been talking to other agents and persuading them that Merlin was the best candidate for new Arthur.

***

Cecilia was enjoying a rather peaceful late evening as Alex was asleep and she could rest a little bit with a glass of a Moscato while reading. She stopped when she heard a squeak of the front door.

“Hamish, is that you?” she asked involuntarily when she couldn’t recognise the figure in the darkness and just a second after she realized how stupid that question had been.

Oh yes, because a murderer would come in through the front door, answer the question and even ask you for a cup of tea, you stupid goose, she thought sarcastically.

“Yes. Why are you still awake?” she could sense the exhaustion in his voice.

Cecilia closed the book, putting it aside. “I didn’t feel tired enough, but Alex fell asleep straight away when he got to his bed,” she got up and approached him, “Are you hungry? There’s dinner in oven if you want.”

“No, thank you. I need to rest for a moment and I’m going to sleep. I’ve been having a headache since midday –“ he looked at her for a brief moment, “And yes, I took some pills,” Hamish added after seeing a question in wife’s eyes.

He took off his jacket and hung it on a bannister while going into the living room. As his gaze fell on the Nordic mythology lying on the table, Hamish undid the cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. He was dead tired but he saw something unusual and new near the fireplace and his curiosity won over.

“What’s that?” he pointed a small, furry ball on a lair.

“A puppy… My father at his end decided to be a good grandfather and presented Alex with a corgi puppy,” Cecilia sighed wearily and sat on the sofa. She grabbed her glass and finished the wine.

“A puppy? Maybe he’ll learn a little bit about responsibility, but I can see that it’s not entirely about the dog,” he said as he seated himself next to his blonde beauty.

“Hamish, please. Alex is only five and I can already see how he’ll take care of that dog. For the first month maybe, yes, but who will take it to the vet? Walk it? Not to mention that we’re usually at work and Alex is at school so the puppy will be all alone at home,” she said bleakly looking at the puppy as it shuffled it’s paws in its sleep.

“So it’s good thing you’re staying at home as long as your arm gets better as well as the ankle. But is it really about the dog?” he embraced Cecilia and pull her closer until she could rest her head on his shoulder. “I can help Alex with the puppy’s training. It’s not that hard.”

She sighed loudly and closed eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. Maybe the dog wasn’t a bad idea at all. However, her father’s initiative was making her a little bit annoyed. It wasn’t even that he hadn’t asked her or Hamish. She just didn’t want to have anything to do with him, more than usual.

“It’s about my father… I’m constantly surprised by his actions and I have this unpleasant feeling that he wants me to carry on the family business, instead of Matt. No one tells me shit about it and apparently that doesn’t bother my father at all,” she answered after a long pause.

“There can’t be anything wrong, can it?” Hamish felt she tightened her muscles, “Come on, Cissy, there’s nothing you should worry about. Maybe he’ll think about it and change his mind. He’s and old man, they do tend to change their minds quite often…”

“Oh no, that’s not in my father’s style. He’s as stubborn as a mule.”

“Now I can see where you got that from,” Hamish laughed silently when she punched his side.

“The kettle calling the pot black, my dear,” she mumbled, faking being offended. “I don’t want to owe him anything, not since I became independent. He scares me somehow and I can’t recognise the man as my father.”

“Cissy, you can’t speak like that. After all he is your father and he brought you up and took care of you and your brother until you became independent.”

She rolled her eyes with a bored face.

“Hamish, I’m begging you, do not start this tirade again. I should be grateful for my parents. I am grateful for them but since my father’s illness he has changed unbelievably and I can’t recognise him,” how could she possibly be grateful for the double-faced man who was her father?, she thought ”He scares me sometimes…” she added with hesitation.

“Please woman. You and your brother are the last living relatives, especially as long as your mother has been missing since the incident,” he said irritated by her complaining. He was tired after long day at Kingsman’s facilities dealing with its shit and he didn’t have the energy or will to hear her complaints, although, he knew he should show some support. “Anyway, you’re aware he won’t live for long with such high state of his heart illness…” Cecilia looked incensed at him, “Don’t do that. I said something obvious and have known for long time. Of course that incident just made his state even worse.”

“God, I hate when you’re so direct,” she said angrily as she decided not to give him the satisfaction of admitting that he was right. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Oh, thank God!” he accidentally blurted out.

“Sometimes you act worse than Alex… Do you still have a headache?”

Hamish nodded. Despite taking a quite impressive number of painkillers, his head was still killing him. She suddenly started to fidget to free herself from his arms. Only when was she successful at her doings she sat on his lap and took of his glasses.

“Cecilia what are you up to?” he looked at her with half-open eyes and he had to admit she looked very appealing in semidarkness.

“Old, granny way to get rid of headache. Relax and close your eyes.”

He did as she said without hesitation, waiting for her next move. Within moments he felt her thumbs gently massaging and squeezing his temples. He give out a sigh of relief when he felt pain subsided. Fingers moved on to his forehead, massaging it with circular moves.

“Is it any better?” Cecilia asked tenderly.

“Absolutely, you’ve some magical skills,” he murmured with closed eyes.

“But you know if it’s still killing you there’s another way to deal with it,” Hamish raised eyebrow on that words.

“Don’t you say…” he smiled and opened one eye, as he got suspicious about her intentions.

She leaned closer to her husband with roguish smirk.”Mmhmm… It’s very effective when it comes to ladies headaches and I think it can also be effective on men’s headaches, don’t you think?”

Before he noticed it, Cecilia was in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt with one hand while in the other she held his tie. She bit her lip lovingly when he slowly slid his hands along her thighs pulling her skirt up higher and higher.

“Come here.”

As she leaned her head over his, Hamish kissed her, as if he couldn’t breathe without her lips. He could swore that her bright blue eyes became dark of lust and he couldn’t blame her. His hands wandering on her body and slowly exploring it all over again. He never had enough of it. Every single moan of pleasure he caused, he enjoyed twice as much as her fingers gently stroking his neck giving him the shivers.

„Mish, come here with your hands,” she traced them onto her hip and waist and eventually onto her breast.

“With pleasure”

Hamish whispered with husky voice while unbuttoning her shirt, under which he found a nice piece of lacy lingerie. With tender kisses Hamish traced path from her lips to soft skin between her breasts. He could feel like her body was melting under his touch and hear how much she enjoyed it.

“Perfect timing, Merlin…” he paused terrified.

“What?” Max looked at Cecilia, both surprised and petrified with wild thoughts crossing his mind that she somehow had found out about the truth.

“The dog, puppy is awake,” she said miserably.

“Could you please repeat the dog’s name?” he just noticed the little furry ball, which was trying to get on the sofa.

“Merlin. Alex named it like that. He has been quite obsessed with Arthurian legends since I started reading them to him. Everything is all right?”

Eggsy must know nothing. Under no circumstances , he thought as he nodded to Cecilia’s question. In that right moment he was close to the heart attack caused by his own son but realized it wouldn’t be that bad with such beautiful sight. Hamish looked at the unfortunate dog and he knew that it needed to go out to its business immediately otherwise there would be a catastrophe on the floor. He moved again, looked at his wife and with much regard he kissed the spot between her breasts, buttoned her shirt up and sighed. That stupid dog interrupted such a beautiful moment and that nearly made him cry.

“I’ll go out with him. I’ll be back just in a minute, my beauty,” he kissed her passionately.

“I’ll be waiting in the bedroom,” she said between kisses.

He watched her getting up with that specific smile, with messy hair and not properly buttoned shirt. Hamish followed his wife with his eyes until she got to the stairs.

“And what should I do about you? This house is not big enough to have two Merlin’s in it,” he said to the puppy, which was quite lively running around excited by its surroundings. “Come on, boy.”

He led the animal to the door and let it go into the garden. For a moment, Hamish observed how excited the dog was. It barked at a bird flying by, sniffed some bushes and eventually came back to him, putting its paws on his leg.

“What should I do about you, little one? I can’t call you Merlin, that would be strange…” he stood in silence thinking intensively what to call this little creature. A small smirk appeared on his lips when he came to the solution.

“The lady of my heart isn’t particularly patient. We need to go… Junior…”

[drabbles-mc]

The Aftermath

Eggsy Unwin & Merlin

Whumptober 2022: No. 1 A Little Out Of The Ordinary- Adverse Effects/Unconventional Restraints

Warnings: post K:TSS, language, angst, mentions of violence/injuries, mentions of character death, trauma, literally it’s whumptober y’all you know what’s up lmao

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: It’s been???? Literal years since I’ve published anything for Kingsman. I couldn’t help but to think that Whumptober would be a good way to get back into it. I’ve missed all of these characters. Decided to do a little bit of an AU for the Valentine debacle. Hope you enjoy!

Kingsman Taglist: @garbinge​​ (If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

He came to with a cough, feeling like he’d been run over by not one, but several semi-trucks. His throat felt like it was coated in sandpaper, and each limb ached as though it was coated and weighed down with concrete. He hadn’t even tried to open his eyes yet, but as he tried to reach to wipe the sleep from them, he found he could only lift his hand a couple inches before something stopped it.

He was still too dazed, too groggy to really register what was happening to him. he tried to reach up with the other hand but ran into the same issue. Even the slight pressure from the restraints felt painful enough to bruise, although it most likely wouldn’t.

His instinct was to let out a curse as he started to pry his eyes open, something to externalize the pain, but when he tried the dryness of his mouth and the rawness of his throat prevented him. he stopped himself from coughing again, knowing it was just going to double-down on the pain.

Finally getting his eyes open, things still weren’t coming into focus. Everything was bright—too bright. He finally got his eyes open and all he wanted to do was close them again. He linked hard a few times, squinting as the lights and the ceiling tiles above him finally came into focus.

Taking a deep breath, he summoned as much strength as he could to lift his head up in an attempt to look around the room. It felt vaguely familiar, despite the way that he was bound to the bed by not only his wrists but also his ankles, but maybe all hospital-type rooms all felt eerily similar. His lame attempts to bend his legs were thwarted by the restraints looped tightly around his ankles; they were snug enough, strong enough, to stop him from getting away, but not so tight that he was going to lose circulation. Whoever had strapped him down had done so with some level of care for his wellbeing, although that was a difficult concept to grasp given the circumstances.

As his mind slowly continued to clear, the reality of his situation steadily beginning to settle in, his inability to speak or move starting to feel much more alarming than they had just moments before. He fought to keep his breathing under control, trying to figure out where he was exactly, and who had put him there. If he had more energy, if his body was fighting him a little less, he would be trying to break free of the restraints. But it was clear that that wasn’t currently in the cards for him.

His valiant efforts to keep his breathing and heartrate at a reasonable level weren’t good enough. The monitor that had been steadily beeping by his bedside began to beep faster, and it felt like it was louder too but that might’ve just been his rattled brain not able to handle it all.

Once that happened though, any hope of keeping his shit together went flying out the window. His chest rapidly rose and fell as he kept clenching and unclenching his hands. It was the best he could do since it hurt too much to fight and pull. His erratic breathing got him coughing again, which only served to make everything worse.

He didn’t know if it was the monitor or his coughing fit that alerted someone nearby that he needed someone, but regardless a few more seconds went by and then the door swung open. Still fighting to try and stop the coughing, he lifted his head up once more to see who it was that was walking in, if it was someone that he knew, someone he trusted.

Merlin’s eyes were wide as they’d ever been when he strode into the room. The clipboard that he had been holding onto clattered to the floor as he rushed over to the bed. He tried to regain his composure, knowing that his reaction was doing nothing to help calm the situation.

“You’re alright,” his level tone didn’t match the worried look on his face, but it was a start, “You’re alright, Eggsy.”

The sound of Merlin saying his name gave him a tiny shred of comfort. It wasn’t much, but given the current circumstances, it felt like a much larger lift than it really was. Merlin didn’t put any pressure on him, knowing that all it was going to do was cause more hurt than it would provide comfort. But the soft warmth of his palm that was just managing to reach Eggsy’s skin through the thick fabric of his t-shirt was like a tether. It didn’t still Eggsy’s movements completely, but he stopped fighting quite as hard.

Merlin reached for the cup of water on the table next to the hospital bed. He slowly and carefully brought it to Eggsy’s lips, murmuring quiet reassurances in the hopes that it would prevent Eggsy from choking on it. It worked, for the most part, but he could still see the tears that sprung up in the edges of Eggsy’s eyes as he swallowed, throat still raw. The relief would hit eventually but in the moment it was just as painful as everything else.

Ever so slowly, Eggsy’s breathing began to even out. The incessant beeping of the monitor got back down to a slower, less-alarming beat. Merlin didn’t move his hand, keeping his eyes fixed on the young man bound to the bed in front of him even as he reached and set the cup off to the side once more.

Eggsy’s head dropped back onto the pillow. He shut his eyes tight for a moment, the few tears running down the sides of his face as he did. He took in a deep, staggering breath as he tried to figure out if it was worth it to try and speak.

Opening his eyes again, he glanced over at Merlin. He sucked in another deep breath as he dragged his tongue along his bottom lip.

“What,” he paused, unable to believe how hoarse he sounded, “what happened?”

Merlin’s lips tugged down into a deep frown—he didn’t want to say what had really happened. Eggsy was trying to cope with enough and he didn’t think that adding to it was really the best idea. He shook his head. “We can talk about it later.”

Eggsy pulled lamely at his arms, wanting to get his point across without causing himself anymore pain, “This seems like somethin’ we should be talking about now.”

Merlin sighed, dragging his thumb across his own browbone in an attempt to ease the tension out of it. It didn’t work.

His hesitation not only to talk about whatever it was that had happened, but also his hesitation about releasing him, made Eggsy’s nerves start to kick up all over again. “M-merlin,” he stammered in a way that he never had before, “come…c’mon, bruv. You’re gonna let me go, yea?”

The rasp in his voice and the pleading look in his eyes almost made Merlin feel bad about it all. And it’d been a long time since he felt bad about doing the things that just had to be done. He knew that there were others who had gotten the “kicked puppy” vibe from Eggsy, but he had never been one of them. Now, though, now he saw it.

“Eggsy—”

He didn’t get to try and explain anything as Eggsy cut him off, “What—” he coughed, his body denying him the ability to speak as loudly as he wanted to, “what the fuck are you doing to me?”

Merlin shook his head. “I’m not doing anything, Eggsy.”

“Quit,” he shook his head, “quit sayin’ my fuckin’ name like that.”

“Alright.” He nodded stepping away from the bed just long enough to retrieve his clipboard from the floor, long enough to try and come up with something to say that wouldn’t send Eggsy into another fit. “I can’t let you go,” he saw the way the young man’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, “Not yet.”

He opened his mouth, ready to yell again, and then remembered what happened the first time and stopped himself. Pressing his lips into a thin line for a moment, he tried again, a little calmer, “Why not?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Eggsy sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think. It would be a lot easier to remember, he thought briefly, if he wasn’t shackled to a fucking hospital bed. He stared intently down at the wall across the room from him, wracking his groggy, exhausted brain for anything that was the right answer to the question Merlin had just asked him. It was all a blur, though.

“I don’t,” he did his best to shrug, “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Merlin hugged the clipboard to his chest, “Try and remember.”

Looking at the way Merlin was standing, the tone in the man’s voice, Eggsy felt like it was his first day of training all over again. The same feeling of inadequacy that he’d felt standing next to all the other posh fucks who were up for the Lancelot position burning in the back of his mind. He leaned back against the pillow behind him, letting his eyes wander up to the ceiling.

Then it hit him. His heart dropped into his stomach as he turned and looked at Merlin. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he spoke, “Harry.”

Merlin nodded, “Aye,” he paused, his expression turning sad for a moment before he continued, “What else?”

“What else?” Eggsy wasn’t sure what else really mattered. He blinked a couple times. “Shit, Merlin, I don’t fucking know. Valentine shot Harry in the fucking face after saying he was gonna make the whole world—” he stopped himself short, eyes widening in realization, “What happened?”

Merlin didn’t want to say it, but there was no getting out of it now. ‘What happened to him, in that church,” he fought the urge to shudder at the memory, “it happened to you as well.”

“You mean I…”

He nodded. “You did. Only, even when it was all over,” he paused, “you didn’t come-to.”

“What do you mean?”

Merlin paused, not wanting to tell him the truth about what had happened, about who he had hurt. It was going to be obvious soon enough, though. The second he finally got outside the four walls of the infirmary, someone was bound to say something. The moment he saw the bruises on Roxy’s face, on Percival’s, he was going to know what he had done. There was no avoiding it, only delaying it. And Merlin couldn’t justify doing that.

“Even when everyone else stopped…you didn’t.” He saw that Eggsy wasn’t fully processing what he was saying. Perhaps it was genuine confusion, or it was just flat-out denial, but regardless Merlin continued, “Whatever Valentine’s chips had been doing to everyone’s brains, it really embedded itself in you. It took multiple agents to subdue you.” He saw the gaunt look on Eggsy’s face and tried not to think about it too much. “I—we weren’t sure if you were going to come out of it.”

Eggsy couldn’t look him in the eyes as he spoke, “So you chained me up down here.”

“Eggsy—”

“Did I…I didn’t ki—I didn’t…” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No agents,” Merlin confirmed what he could.

Eggsy let out a shuddering breath. For most of his life he had been the victim of violence, and the fact that this time he had been the perpetrator of it made his stomach turn. The heaviness in his limbs increased ten-fold as he tried to digest what Merlin had just told him. He didn’t remember any of it, and he wondered if any of it would ever come back to him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it too.

He sniffled, trying not to tear up again. “So, now what?”

The tension eased out of Merlin’s shoulders a bit. That was a question he had a simple, concrete answer for. “Twelve more hours of observation with…” he didn’t want to say it, so he continued past it, “And if you’re alright, and your brain activity looks normal, we’ll take them off. Keep you for eight more hours to make sure everything checks out, and then you can go.”

“I just…go?” his tone was nervous, sad.

Merlin nodded. “We aren’t just going to keep you down here forever.” He waited for Eggsy to respond with something, but all the young man did was stare at the restraints that were wrapped around his wrists. Merlin reached, softly resting his hand on Eggsy’s shoulder. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I still—”

“There was nothing that you could’ve done.” Merlin never said things that he didn’t mean, and Eggsy knew that. It was the only reason that the statement gave him a tiny shred of comfort. He still didn’t say anything, though. Merlin fought the urge to give Eggsy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Instead, he said, “I’ll be back soon to check on you again.”

Eggsy didn’t say anything else, just nodded as he sunk back into the pillow behind him. He stared up at the ceiling, listening as the door clicked shut and signaled Merlin’s exit. Once he knew he was alone again, the breath he’d been holding broke free in the form of a choked sob, one that hurt his chest physically as much as it hurt him emotionally.

The minutes went by slow, the hours fast. When Merlin came back into the room to undo his restraints, Eggsy almost told the man not to. He still couldn’t get right with what had happened, probably wouldn’t for a long time. He couldn’t help but to wonder what would happen if he snapped again, if something in his brain was permanently wrong now. He wondered if underneath it all that had always been the kind of person that he was.

Merlin freed his wrists first. Eggsy immediately sat up and began gingerly rubbing circles into them. Surprisingly it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would—for the first time in quite a while something felt good. He watched intently as Merlin undid the bands around his ankles. Despite the wincing, there was some relief in being able to fully bend his legs. He slowly brought his knees to his chest, holding the position before stretching them out again.

It wasn’t until he slid his legs back out and the fabric lid up, exposing some more of his leg, that he saw some of the bruises. His stomach twisted as he pulled the collar of his shirt, looking down to see his chest and stomach littered with bruises as well. It would be a long time before his body was clear of blemishes, longer still before he stopped beating himself up over something that he had no control over.

He wasn’t ready to stand up yet, but he still turned and allowed his legs to dangle off the side of the bed. He slowly moved them, allowing his hands to grip the edge of the mattress to give him a little extra balance and support. Merlin watched him for a few moments before sitting down next to him.

“It’s all a bit fucked, innit?” Eggsy asked, a sad laugh punctuating his sentence.

Merlin shook his head. “Not all of it.” He sat and waited for Eggsy to look over at him before speaking up again. “You’ll be alright. The worst is over.”

“Is it?”

He nodded. “It is.” He paused. “You’re alright. You’re still you.”

Eggsy’s laugh was a little more genuine. “Bummer for you then, yea?”

That got a chuckle out of Merlin. “It’s not terrible.”

It grew quiet between them again for a few seconds before Eggsy said, “Thank you. For takin’ care of me. Checkin’ in on me and everything.”

Merlin’s response was matter of fact, honest. “It’s what we do.”

Eggsy mulled over the sentiment of it before nodding and repeating it back to him, softer, “It’s what we do.”