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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

Hey lovie! Sorry I’m a bit late but could I request something for your 2k celebration (congrats again!💛)

Could I request a Jax Teller story with these emojis

🌧👅⛺️

I look forward to seeing what story you write based off of these emojis! 💛

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats! 💗

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Bitch a Tent

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, sex in the great outdoors, while it rains and pours Word Count: ~1k Emoji Prompt: 🌧👅⛺️ (key words are in bold)

“Fuck this shit!”

Jax Teller’s first ever attempt to pitch a tent just isn’t going very well. He’s never been camping before and you can tell. Ten minutes in and he’s fed up with it. Fuming and furious as hell. Throwing the bitchiest bitch fit.

It doesn’t help now that the weather fucking sucks. It’s rotten luck. One of those days when even though the sun shines bright, a random shower just attacks from out of nowhere which is really not alright. Totally fucked. The rain has paused for now but both of you are soaked. You’re not complaining since your man looks so damn good all dripping wet it makes you choke.

Droplets are trickling from his beard as damp gold tresses frame his face… his shirt is matted to his skin and perfectly accentuates the contours of his muscles in a way that makes your dirty little heart hammer and race…

You struggle not to let your thirsty thoughts distract you as you see him hopelessly shoving a tent pole in the totally wrong place.

“Jax, stop!” you laugh, watching him grappling with the pole so angrily he’s close to breaking it in half. Stuck in a battle with this bendy piece of metal and determined to come out on fucking top. You take it in your own grip firm and tight. Wishing instead that you were grasping at his shaft. “Hold up, you’re not sticking it in right…”

He flashes you his signature smug smirk, because he’s such a fucking jerk. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him like a bratty little child. Wishing instead that you could wrap that slutty tongue around his big fat dick and drive him fucking wild.

Jax chuckles, looking on and licking his lips as you expertly drive in this stubborn rod where it belongs, grasp hard and strong, tight and white-knuckled. “Lookatchu working that pole.”

“Just had to lend a hand because my dumbass boyfriend couldn’t stick it in the fucking hole.”

“What if I told you I was screwing up on purpose so that I could watch you do it?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. I’d call bullshit,” you scoff knowing that he’s full of it. “Your alpha male ego is bruised because your girl can do what you couldn’t, and you’d better fess up to it.”

Of course you know Jax Teller never ever will. But just as you’d intended, he’s offended… so the beast in him is raging now as he’s dripping with rainwater. And he’s never looked hotter. Hot enough to fucking kill.

***************

“I’ll show you how I stick it in the fucking hole.”

Jax loves to literally make you eat your words. He rasps them fierce into the wet gape of your mouth until they pierce into your soul, now as he pounds you on a bed of rain-soaked grass so hard it hurts. He’s just the worst. Gets off on pumping you so full and swallowing you whole. Your pussy pulsates all around his massive girth stretching you out until it feels like you’re about to fucking burst.

The tent that you had started putting up is far from finished. But Jax really couldn’t wait to do his business. He’s been railing you to pieces as the rain showers began, soaking the both of you again, just over these past several minutes.

And now he’s gloating on the power that his godlike cock has over you as he continues splitting your wet pussy open with it. Just the way he loves to plow. The way that only Jax knows how. “That shut you up real good now, didn’t it.”

You need to cum but you already know that he’s forbidden it. The rule that you can only ever reach release when Jax permits it is engraved deep in your core where his divine dominant dick has proudly written it. You’d never dare to disobey after how many times you’ve ridden it.

Although the two of you are clothed, it’s like the rain has stripped you both. The way it soaks makes such a joke of all your clothing. Barriers between your skin and his reduced to fucking nothing. The godly gorgeous man above you is a motherfucking king and looks more powerful than ever with the way the rainfall darkens as it drenches. Everything inside you clenches.

You could just die from this view. You do die as he then leans down to kiss you. Kisses long and hard and slow, pace of his lips such a stark contrast to the fast snap of his hips as his thick shaft slides in and out of your tight cunt until you’re both about to blow.

In the exact second that Jax at last allows you to let go… a bolt of lightning streaks across the sky with its electric glow, and you cum harder than the thunder bound to follow—light and sound moments apart, unlike the two of you who cum undone in sync to the aligned pound of your hearts, your peak and his one and the same as his seed spills explosively and fills you so ferociously while all your juices flow. Just how a man on earth can fuck like this you’ll never really know.

It doesn’t matter though—you’re his and he is yours and thankfully you know exactly how to push all of his buttons. Piss him off so that he’ll fuck your cunt to bits all of a sudden.

When it’s time to pitch a tent Jax Teller turns into a whiny little bitch who fucking can’t. But you sure can, and aren’t afraid to show it even if it makes him feel less of a man. What really matters is that you can always pitch a very big tent in his pants.

Cum rain or shine, Jax Teller’s dick is just divine. To you he is a golden god wielding his fuck-stick like a thunderbolt and goddamn does he love to play that role. He’s got the biggest pole, and always knows exactly how to stick it in the hole.

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years

Text

Merlin has been Court Sorcerer for a couple months now;

and whilst the gang knows that, in theory, he is "The Most Powerful Warlock to Ever Walk the Earth"... they never quite realised what that meant, until he got stabbed through the chest, and he laughed...

Good-Merlin, can still be a little very dark sometimes, especially when his friends are in danger.

TW: Some fairly graphic descriptions of violence under the cut, just lots and lots of blood, and Merlin being a little very terrifying.

ONCE AGAIN the gang (5 knights, A+M) are in the woods doing some shit.

A large group of mercenaries had been reportedly ransacking some outlying villages. Arthur had been crowned for less than a year, so in a show of solidarity and loyalty to his people, he took himself, his five best knights, and the newly appointed Court Sorcerer, instead of just assigning it as someone else's problem.

The first couple of days are uneventful. Everything's been so busy in recent months, with Leon taking charge of the knights whilst Arthur gets on with his kingly duties, the change in laws, and the complete change in Merlin’s life; it was nice for everyone to just catch up and goof around.

Of course they were focused on helping their people, but they might as well relax themselves on the way there. Everyone knows, a happy, de-stressed fighter, is a good fighter.

They come across the mercenaries quicker than expected. Apparently they had grown in confidence and ventured further into the kingdom.

That also means the gang wasn't expecting it, and even Merlin is taken by surprise.

There are also far more attackers than they were expecting, and six knights, even six of the best knights, was no where near enough to keep pace with the 30 or so group of attackers, and the fight was over before it really began.

Which is what lead to the current situation.

The gang had been dragged to a clearing, all clapped in cold iron shackles (with Camelot's new change in laws.... well, the mercenaries weren't taking any chances, any of them could be hiding sorcery).

A man who has clearly established himself as the leader starts shouting orders:

"Someone get a fire lit, a big one. Chain the knights to the trees, but that one-"

(He points directly at Merlin, the only one of the group not in armour)

He gives a horrid grin before continuing:

"- bring that one here, and unshackle him. Perhaps the King will pay up quicker should we pre-emptively send a.... message."

All the knights widen their eyes at this. Apparently these idiots hadn't realised that one of the men they had shackled to a tree was the King.

I guess if they were from outside of Camelot, they might not know what he looks like? But none of them question it, all hoping that once Merlin was free of his shackles, he could make a run for it and bring an army back.

Merlin just smirks slightly to himself, so small and brief, that only Leon notices it, and allows himself to be dragged towards the man in the centre of the clearing.

The Sorcerer stands casually, trying not to gag from the smell of the mans breath.

He rubs his wrists absentmindedly, and subtly takes in a deep breath as the shackles are removed, and he feels the magic flow back through his body.

Merlin lays a steely glare on the Head Merc as the knights watch on in fear, why wasn't he running? Fighting?? Anything??

He goes to say "That was a very bad move on your part." but just as he opens his mouth to speak, he feels a sharp pain in his chest.

He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a harsh gurgle, as blood starts dripping from between his lips.

He can vaguely hear the screaming of the knights as he takes a stumbled step back, before falling to his knees, only then looking down to see the hilt of the dagger, poking out from his chest.

He coughs up some more blood as he looks up at his attacker, unable to do anything but tremble, and pull a face of confusion, blinking rapidly in shock.

He can still hear the shrieking. Someone yelling his name. Someone screaming curse words, a lot of "NO!"s

The head honcho gives him one last smirk before walking over towards the knights, who are yanking so tightly at their chains, and screaming so loudly, they're almost certain to have fractured wrists and strained vocal cords.

Merlin kneels there, looking back down at the dagger, still coughing up blood and struggling to draw breath, his whole body trembling, as The Merc begins to address his chained friends.

"His carcass will be dropped at the gates of Camelot. Hopefully that will deliver the message to your powerful King."

He starts chuckling at the knights pleading, but before he can gloat more, Merlin starts wheezing. Loudly.

He turns around, about to yell at someone to finish him off and shut him up, when he realises in horror, that the wheezing, is slowly morphing into laughter.

The knights turn their stares back to their friend, confused and horrified, as Merlin looks up at The Merc from his place in the floor.

He slowly stands, swaying on his feet, grinning wildly, blood now pouring from his mouth, his teeth stained. A dribble comes out of his nose, his eyes manic, and his body still shaking.

"How... how is this possible?!-"

The Merc takes a step back, as all of his... employees... stare on, too shocked to act.

"- even if you were a sorcerer this is.... this is IMPOSSIBLE!"

He takes another step back, getting paler by the second, and a blood soaked Merlin grins at him,

He tilts his head, looking like a madman, and wheezes out a crazed:

“You think you get to kill me?”

The knights stare on in near-revulsion, as he lifts a hand wet with blood up, pulling the dagger from his chest, groaning briefly.

The red streak on Merlin’s chest begins to grow rapidly at this, and he bends over, almost falling, as he coughs up an impossible amount of blood, keeping the dagger gripped tightly in his hand.

As Merlin looks up, once again grinning, the leader regains a small part of his composure, and yells:

“KILL HIM! FOR GODS SAKE SOMEONE KILL HIM!!”

Before the swordsmen can take even one step towards Merlin, the grin drops from his face, his eyes glowing gold as he begins to snarl.

He begins taking disjointed steps towards the Head Merc, not even looking at the other men, trusting his Magic to do what he wants without much guidance.

He is vaguely aware of the screeching all around him, and begins to smirk again as the man he’s heading towards darts his gaze around the clearing in pure terror. The knights are also looking horrified, staring at the sharp vines bursting from the ground, and viciously ripping their attackers to shreds.

The Head Merc looks back towards Merlin, somehow managing to look even more petrified, as Merlin’s walking, and breathing, seem to become easier with each step.

The shrieks die down, and the clearing becomes silent, save for the harsh, frantic, panting of the only man left. The glow fades from Merlin’s eyes, his magic settling back into him. He spits out one last mouthful of blood, still walking, his chest fully healed, and the threats taken care of.

Still, he smirks.

The man falls backwards to the ground, rabidly scrambling away from Merlin, paler than ever:

“What.... what are you??? Please.. please!! I DIDN’T KNOW!!”

Still, Merlin walks towards him.

Still, he smirks.

The knights just about manage to tear their gazes away from the carnage in the clearing, staring at Merlin in fear.

Merlin’s eyes flash briefly gold once more, as he absentmindedly waves his hand, using his magic to pull the Merc to stand before him.

He’s trembling hard, but is too scared to make even a single noise.

Merlin tilts his head and, whilst still smirking, says:

“You attack my friends. You put me in cold iron. And you think you’re the one that gets to kill me?”

The knights shudder at the deadly tone of voice, one they’d never heard Merlin even get close to before.

Merlin’s hand rushes up and grips the man’s hair, yanking it back, as he drops his smirk and starts snarling again.

Quick as lightening, he thrusts the dagger that had previously perforated his own chest, up into the man’s heart, staring him into his eyes as the breath leaves his body:

“You don’t get to kill me.”

The Merc stops moving quickly, clearly falling to a more accurate blow than the one he’d given the sorcerer.

Merlin drops him, his eyes following his carcass in clear disgust.

The Sorcerer lets out a short, huffed, laugh, but before he can do anything else, he’s pulled from his thoughts, by Lancelot’s trembling voice:

“M... Merlin?”

Merlin’s head snaps up towards his friends, and his eyes widen just a fraction, before he casually waves his hand in their direction.

The chains that hold them to their trees crumble to the floor, and each of them slowly stands on shaking legs.

Merlin notices the fear and horror in their faces, levelling a short, assessing, stare at each of them before glancing back down to the body at his feet.

He looks back to Arthur before smiling. It’s his normal, sweet smile, as opposed to the smirk he held earlier, but it does little to comfort The King. If anything this smile is more terrifying after what they had just witnessed, and the fact that Merlin was still covered head to toe in his own blood didn’t help either.

Arthur continues to stare at him, trying not to look scared, but failing miserably. At that, Merlin shrugs slightly, before looking down at his hands, seemingly no longer even thinking about the knights (or...anything that had just happened).

He gives an irritated huff at all the blood, before moving his attention to his shirt:

“Bollocks. This is gonna be a bitch to wash. He could have at least slit my throat, instead of putting a giant hole in my shirt.” he mumbles it to himself, but the others draw in shaky breaths as they overhear him.

The knights glance at each other quickly, before slowly making their way to Merlin. None of them come within arms reach of him however.

(Though they are all now aware, after that terrifying display, that Merlin didn’t have to even be thinking about it, to hurt them).

It’s Leon that gulps, and speaks first:

“Merlin? Are you... feeling alright?”

Merlin looks up in confusion about that, but the speed of it makes the knights all flinch.

He looks around at them as he replies:

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be? I already told you guys, I’m immortal.”

He looks down at himself, looking frustrated again, before perking up with sudden happiness:

“OH! I can just-”

He once again waves his hand, eyes flashing gold, as the blood disappears from his clothes and skin, and the hole in his shirt repairs itself.

The knights look amongst each other again, before Leon pipes up once more:

“Merlin you just... you laughed. You wiped them out. Do you... does your head feel alright?”

Merlin frowns at that, before turning around and looking at the carnage for the first time.

His voice is quiet when he speaks again:

“Oh. Yeah. My magic is pretty protective of you guys. I told it I wanted them all dead for hurting you, and I guess... that’s what it did-”

He looks back at them once more, his expression holding slight, worrying, amusement:

“As for the laughter, I just think it’s kind of funny that people keep underestimating me. And they keep dying for that mistake.”

He glances at the bloody scene again, only quickly, but when he looks back this time, he’s biting his lip and looking worried. Looking much more like the scared Merlin they used to get, all those years ago. He fiddles with his hands roughly, and seems to shrink in on himself as he looks at Arthur:

“Was that... was that wrong? You didn’t want any of them alive did you? I’m pretty tired now, but I could probably summon one of their spirits if you wanted to ask some questions or something?”

Arthur is taken aback at that, but he calls upon his bravery, and is the first of the knights to move closer to Merlin, only hesitating for a second, before pulling him into a brief hug:

“No, no it’s fine Merlin, you did great. I... we just haven’t seen you show off the extent of your powers yet and it was a little... unnerving.-”

The King pulls back, but keeps one hand on Merlin’s shoulder, glancing at the others, finally shuffling closer, before continuing:

“-I have a feeling we won’t be seeing any more of these guys, if there are others. Though one or two survivors would be great, next time.”

Merlin nods thoughtfully at that, as he receives a shaky smile, and clap on the back from Gwaine.

As Arthur lets go, and starts to pick his way through the bodies, looking truly unnerved, Gwaine following him, the rest of the knights briefly smile as they pat Merlin on the back one by one.

All of them get to work piling the bodies in one big heap, to burn them, and All of them are thinking the same thing:

“Thank fuck Merlin is on our side.”

THE END ✌

Soz lads, I know this is lot more gory than what I normally go for, but I just LOVE the concept of Merlin letting his dark side getting the better of him when the people he cares about are in danger.

Plus the idea of the gang finally seeing, finally understanding, why Emrys is worshipped by like 95% of magic users they come across....finally understanding that Merlin... their sweet, innocent, must-be-protected-at-all-costs Merlin,,,,, is basically a God. Noice

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

On Your Marks, Get Set, Go!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.5k

Request: @de4d-s0up“36,38,12 for Neville!❤️ fem reader and surprise me it can be fluff or smut OH OK IM EXCITED NOW😌 CONGRATS ON 300 BABES SO PROUD OF YOU<3”

Summary: (Y/n) spends so much time in Neville’s shadow that when she’s brought to the light she suffers from some massive stage fright and forgets her lines (not literally but like this sounds clever and you’ll get it soon. Just fuckin read it, yeah?

Warnings: None! A little angst but nothing too big, just majority fluff fluff fluff!

A/N: Can I just say that I love how well these flow together?? LIKE UGH YOU ALWAYS GIVE ME SOME GOOD SHIT TO WORK WITH!! This was very fun to write so tysm!

36.Admirer

38.Caught

12.“I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.”

If you were to ask (Y/n) who was the most attractive guy in the castle, she would 1000% say it was Neville Longbottom. For as long as she could remember, she was absolutely mesmerized by him and with time, he had gone from the adorable little guy she’d see in the hall into a charming young man who she could not be anywhere near. Yes he had a tendency to be a bit socially awkward sometimes but if anything, that added to his charm and if anything that made it even harder to talk to him. She didn’t want to have to face such an awkward interaction on why she was approaching him despite them not being friends nor having any classes together.

So she watched from afar, following him around the halls, sticking close to him whenever she could. It wasn’t in a creepy way however! She just found him to be beautiful and she couldn’t help herself. The more she thought about it she did sound like a stalker but that was such a strong word. And if he didn’t know of her existence could there really be any harm to what she was doing? That’s what she thought to herself as she stood behind the pillar, observing him as he conversed with his friends. Neville was currently laughing at something Dean had said as he shoved Seamus. (Y/n) couldn’t help the smile that was beginning to form at the boy’s laughter. His smile was simply contagious, a ray of sunshine indeed! She sighed to herself softly before biting the inside of her cheek.

“I wish he’d smile at me like that.” she murmured softly as to not alert them of her presence. If only she could speak, say even just one word to him. But alas, anytime she even attempted an utterance of a word her brain would short circuit and she went running the opposite way. It just wasn’t fair! She held tightly onto her books as dust fell from above her head, her (e/c) eyes growing wide as dust made its way into her nose. “O-oh no. Please, please ple-” she was cut off by the exact thing she didn’t want, a loud sneeze. She groaned, training her eyes to the ground in front of her. However if her luck wasn’t bad already a familiar pair of brown shoes stopped right in front of her. (Y/n) quickly snapped her head up looking at the boy of her affections. Neville stood in front of her, searching the pocket of vest for something until he pulled out a pale yellow handkerchief.

“You alright, love? That was some sneeze.” He said, holding out the small fabric to her as he offered her a small smile. She was stunned, Neville was talking to her. She kept her eyes locked with him with a shocked expression mouth agape. ‘Don’t just stand there!! Speak! Move! Do SOMETHING!!’. She slowly began to take small steps backwards, shaking her head ‘no’ frantically as she ran off down the hallway not even noticing she had dropped the little brown leather notebook she always kept on her. The gryfindor boy made a soft frown as he reached down, picking up the book. He flipped it open looking for a name relieved when he found a name on the inner cover. “(Y/n) (L/n), 6th year. Huh, I wonder why I’ve never seen her before?” He said to no one in particular as he walked back to Seamus and Dean who were laughing at the scene that had just played out in front of them.

“Geez Nev, we knew you were bad with women but that’s a whole new level!” Seamus choked out through laughs, reaching a freckled hand up to wipe the tears that had formed in his state of hysteria.

“Yeah seriously! What the hell did you even say?” Dean said, coming down from his laughter. Neville frowned some, shrugging his shoulders as he scratched the back of his head.

“I’ve got no clue. I saw she had sneezed and offered her my cloth and after I did that she just ran off! Is there something in my teeth? Do I smell bad?” He questioned, sniffing at his pits to check for any suspicious odor but found nothing but the smell of his body wash and deodorant.

“No you don’t smell bad. Well no worse than usual that is.” Seamus said with a shrug. Neville rolled his eyes flicking him on the forehead with a scowl.

“You’re one to talk! Your natural scent is smoke and sweat, I don’t wanna hear it from you.” He grumbled out, shifting his eyes back to the book in his hands. The girl was clearly frightened of him, how was he supposed to get it back to her? “I just feel so bad, I don’t know what I did to make her so scared of me. I’ll wait a bit before I give it back to her.”

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

And he had done just that. (Y/n) had noticed her journal was missing but didn’t think much of it. She had a habit of losing things and assumed it would get back to her in some way and plus, it wasn’t that important. It was just filled with notes and sketches of the different mushrooms she had found on the castle grounds. Whenever she had a free period or a bit of free time on her hands, one of her favorite things to do was identify rare breeds of fungi and other various plants. And although she had missed doing that, it had only been a week and it's not like she didn’t have parchment. The only thing that was frustrating about that was that parchment and scrolls lacked the same convenience that notebooks had. (she didn’t know why Hogwarts wouldn’t just get with the times. Where were they, Camelot?)However she had faith one of her friends would bring it back to her. (Y/n) didn’t have many which is why she wondered what was taking so long for the return of her notebook.

“Hey guys, have you seen my notebook? You know the little brown one I always carry?” she asked, plopping down on the old worn down couch in the (y/h/h) common room.

“Hmm, nope! Last time I saw it you were carrying it. Why? Did you lose it?” Gwen said as she continued to read her book.

“You’re so bad with keeping track of things. You’d lose your head if it wasn’t on your shoulders.” Marco said, rolling his eyes at his friend's irresponsible behavior.

“Oh come on that was ONE time! When the potion said it’d blow your head off I didn’t think it meant quite literally!” she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest defensively. Her eyes lit up as she was reminded of a detail. “And besides, didn’t you drink that exact potion afterwards because you wanted to know what it felt like to have no head?”

Marco was silent, whistling as he avoided eye contact with his friend before his eyes landed on a familiar lanky brunette holding a certain little book that had been missing. “Hey, isn’t that the guy you fancy? He’s got your book!” he said, pointing in the direction in which Neville was coming from. (Y/n) gasped, gathering her stuff as she muttered something about ‘being late to class’ but right as she stood up, she was yanked back down by Gwen. “Woah, not so fast track star! How are you going to get your book if you leave?”

“Y-you can give it to me! Tell him you know me. See ya!” she said standing back up but once again, she was yanked back down. “Would you quit it?!”

“No can do buckeroo. You’ve gotta get your book back somehow. Neville’s a pretty honorable guy, I highly doubt he’s gonna give your book to some people who could possibly know you. He’d wanna give it directly to you himself.” Gwen said, still not looking up from her book. (Y/n) let out a defeated sigh. She was right. Neville is the type to make sure to get back a lost item to the person themselves to avoid any chance of them not receiving it. She knew that better than anyone.

Neville wiped his free hand on his pants leg, eliminating the thin layer of sweat that had gathered on it. He was nervous to say the least. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any female friends, it was just that the female friends he did have didn’t look at him like he was you-know-who himself. Since their last meeting, he had thought about the girl a lot. He couldn’t recall seeing her before and he wasn’t the type of person people hated without any rhyme or reason so it baffled him. Someone found him intimidating? That was a new one! Neville had taken the liberty of asking his friends what he could do to be more welcoming for people but they all just seemed to laugh in his face or scoff.

He found the question to be an absurd one for him to be asking too but for some reason, all he wanted to do was be less scary. Less scary and more approachable to the girl so maybe, maybe he could talk to the mysterious beauty who he’d never notice. That was another thing that made him quite angry. In all his years of Hogwarts, how hadn’t he noticed such a rose in its prime? Even in her frazzled state her refinement was more than apparent. She had beautiful glowing (e/c) eyes, the cutest little nose, and two beautiful petals that were more commonly known as lips. Even now as he got closer and she had that same damn look on her face, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on and he had done a lot more than just laying his eyes on girl’s.

“I-I believe this belongs to you?” He said, holding the book out in front of her. However, all the girl did was stare up at him with wide (e/c) eyes and her pretty little lips parted in horror. The girl to her right cleared her throat, nudging her not so blasé

in her action. (Y/n) shifted to her eyes before quickly bringing them back to Neville as she closed her mouth. “Well it’s not that I believe it belongs to you, I know it’s yours. You dropped it when you ran away from me the other day.” He said looking away as he scratched the back of his head with his hand, running his fingers through his luscious locks of brown. “Now that I think about it, that doesn’t automatically make it yours. I’m sorry for assuming! You could’ve been holding onto it for a friend or or-”

“It’s hers. Thank you Neville, that was very kind of you and I’m sure (Y/n) appreciates it. Right (Y/n)?” Gwen asked, handing her the book from the boy's hands. (Y/n) just continued to stare. No movement, no indication that she did appreciate it.

“I’ve always liked you, you just never noticed.” she said softly, continuing on with her intense gaze. Her breath hitched as her eyes almost popped out of her head, both hands flying to her mouth. Not one person spoke, all her friend’s and Neville were just as shocked as she was at the announcement. “No, no, no. Fuck!” she mumbled with a great emphasis on the last word. She quickly stood up, running away making sure to not forget her book this time.

(Y/n) continued to whip and run through the hallway, going as fast as her legs could carry her. She paid no mind to where she was going and quite frankly she didn’t care. Anywhere far away from Neville was good enough. If him catching her behind the pillar that day was the biggest embarrassment of the year, this was the biggest embarrassment of the century. How could she speak so freely, so carelessly? All those years of sneaking around, admiring him from a far were thrown down the drain. Things would never be able to go back to how they were without him noticing her there. She slid down the wall, pulling her knees to her chest as she sobbed loudly. It didn’t matter, no one came to this hallway so she didn’t have to think about what would happen if someone heard her. She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve before glancing at the book at her side. Out of a fit of rage she picked it up, throwing it at the wall in front of her. She watched as the book fell with a thud, pages open to a random observation she had made about a spore specimen.

“I’m starting to think I’m bad luck. It appears as though anytime I’m around, you’ve got tears coming out of those pretty little eyes of yours.” Neville said softly, kneeling in front of the girl. (Y/n) brought her head up, (e/c) eyes staring into hazel ones.

“You...you think my eyes are pretty?” she questioned, tilting her head some as she sat up a bit straighter. Neville reached forward, gripping her small hand in his much larger one.

“Not just pretty, the prettiest. After I met with you that first time, I couldn’t stop thinking about them all night. Despite how horrified you looked at me, they were still the prettiest shade of (e/c) I’d ever seen.” He said, smiling softly at the girl’s flustered expression. “You know I’m a bit relieved to know that you like me.”

“R-really? Why’s that?” (Y/n) questioned, gripping his hand back as he helped pull her off the ground.

“Because, that means you don’t think of me as some scary monster! I was beginning to grow quite worried, y’know?” He said, chuckling a bit. (Y/n) gasped, smacking him on the shoulder a bit.

“Hey! I was not that bad….was I?” she asked, looking into his eyes. Neville bit his lip, looking away from her. “Oh come on! Can you blame me though? I’ve had a crush on you since we were on the train to Hogwarts for the first time. I remember I was so angry that I wasn’t the one who found Trevor for you.” she said, clinging onto his arm a bit. Neville looked a bit shocked at that revelation. Most girls didn’t pay him much attention till around 5th year, had she really liked him for that long?

“Does that mean that this,” he leaned down, pecking her on the lips before pulling away, “Was your first kiss?” He asked. (Y/n) had that same expression she had during the encounter a bit ago however this time, something was a bit different. She gripped his shirt before bringing his lips back down to hers kissing him with feverish intensity. Neville let out a small moan, gripping at her waist tightly as he pinned her against the wall causing her feet to dangle in the air.

(Y/n) was right on something, things would never be the same. But sometimes change was good. That was proven to her as Neville had his tongue down her throat.

#neville longbottom x reader #neville #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom x you #neville x y/n #neville x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

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loganlynn · 2 years

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Thank you to everyone who has been streaming the single or pre-ordered the EP since yesterday when Kill Rock Stars announced it! I see you, gays.

And huge thanks to JD Samson, MAN ON MAN, Xiu Xiu, Bright Light Bright Light, and Plack Blague for being part of this with me. I love every single one of you.

Also I used to hide Faith No More CDs in my pants at the back of Camelot Music in the mall because I had to smuggle secular music into our house as a kid, so to have Roddy Bottum on this thing is wild.

If you find my album at a big box store, you absolutely have my permission to put that shit in your underwear and walk out. 🖤

#loganlynn #pdxmusic #portland #logan lynn #Gucci #gucci community #alessandro michele #kill rock stars #other people’s money #ginger beard #gay ginger #gingers #redheads #hairy man #hairy chest #gay bear

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whitewitch95 · 3 years

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alright, I'm usually over at twitter or discord spewing my thoughts and prompts, but I feel like the Merlin fandom is bigger over here, so maybe someone appreciates that

Thoughts and a fanfic prompt to s2ep07 The Witchfinder

Aredian accuses Merlin of magic bc of the amulet he placed in the physician's quarters, and from the look in his eye, presumably speculates that Gaius will "confess" that it's his - what Gaius of course does because he loves Merlin like his own son. During the episode, still-innocent Morgana is on Aredian's radar as well, just bc Gaius treated her nightmares, and we learn that although Gaius confesses, Aredian still wants to "expose Merlin and Morgana's evil deeds".

I feel like most people - once we realize that Aredian is an asshole who stages all the "sorcerer sightings" for money, and Arthur once more is more reasonable than Uther and helps Merlin save the day, who is actually doing all the work again - I feel like most people tend to forget that Aredian actually precisely accused 3 real sorcerers of sorcery. Yes, neither of them did what they'd been accused of, but nonetheless, Aredian points them out with eerie precision.

So WHAT IF Aredian actually has some weak magic himself? Like the "funny feelings" Merlin sometimes gets when he just instinctively knows shit's gonna go downhill or when he feels drawn towards other people's/being's magic? Like an actual witchfinder, you know, not skilled enough to play detective and catch sorcerers in the act, maybe not even interested in upholding the laws against sorcery or not, just as long as he gets payment and fame - but what if he makes those seemingly random *finger point* "THAT BOY" accusations that nobody ever questions bc of his own weak magic that makes him sensitive for it?

Okay, so now comes the prompt idea. We all probably laughed when cheeky Merlin exposes Aredian with that toad coming out of his mouth on top of everything else, but imagine he doesn't bc that would be too obvious and instead just places the "fake" evidence in his room - that would leave Aredian the opportunity to use his mouth.

So what if, while Arthur and the knights are searching the room, Aredian thunders that "THAT BOY placed this here, HE'S the sorcerer, you have EVIL IN YOUR CASTLE" and Arthur only scoffs because please, that man is just ridiculous. And then, like *Merlin* did in the actual episode, *Aredian* turns away, half-hidden from view, whispers a spell that has Merlin's magic reacting, body spasming and eyes golden.

And Merlin is just standing there, struggling to hold his magic inside and not have it lashing out, and Aredian is smirking bc there's no way to explain that away, surely he has won now-

And Arthur whirls around, punching Aredian in the face, yelling at his knights about stuffing that man's mouth with a cloth before he says any more spells, and when Aredian fights them bc he finally realizes he's about to lose and then moves towards Morgana, Arthur runs him through with his sword.

Aredian is dead.

Merlin is still breathing hard, even though his magic has settled once again, and while everyone is shocked and panting and Arthur assures himself of Morgana's wellbeing, Merlin is On Edge. Because that was his actual magic reacting, and his own eyes turning golden in response to the spell, and a room full of knights, and Morgana, and Arthur were watching.

But when they all return to Uther, Arthur relays the story and it sounds as if Aredian, traitor of Camelot and apparently an evil sorcerer that has sent innocent people into their death, has enchanted Merlin to look as if he had magic, JUST like he did with hiding that amulet in Gaius chambers, to put the blame onto someone else.

Nobody questions it, not even Uther.

Merlin feels the tightness in his chest lessen, finally able to breathe normally again. He wants to laugh, really. Arthur is SO CONVINCED that his manservant is nothing more than a bumbling, but highly loyal idiot - and he has tried to protect Merlin, he remembers, right in front of Aredian and Uther and the whole court - that Arthur doesn't even consider Merlin could actually have magic.

When the day winds down, Merlin helps Arthur getting ready for bed, serving him dinner, tidying his chambers, still tired and wary, but incredibly relieved.

Until Arthur says, "So, Merlin," and Merlin freezes because that tone sounds chilling. Carefully, he straightens up and looks at Arthur, who's watching him with frighteningly intense eyes, gaze piercing. "Anything you have to say?"

"Uhm," Merlin hesitates, unsure what exactly Arthur means, heart beating wildly. "I don't know what you mean, Sire," he settles on, but that seems to be the wrong thing to say.

Arthur narrows his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe 'thank you', but I know manners aren't your strong suit, so how about the truth?"

"The truth?" Merlin laughs nervously, dear god, he shouldn't have let his guard down-

"YES, Merlin, the truth," Arthur growls, and then he's out of his chair, stomping towards Merlin. "Because I can assure you, this was the last time I've lied to my knights and my father and the entire court for you if you don't even have it in you to tell me the TRUTH!"

Arthus has him cornered against the bedpost now, and Merlin is trembling ever so slightly. Arthur's eyes are blazing, like a blue, furious thunderstorm, and Merlin knows there's no escaping this; especially because Arthur is right.

So he talks. He's hesitant at first, reinforcing that everything they found out about Aredian is the truth, that Merlin did not lie, that he did not *once* betray Arthur, or Camelot. Arthur looks as if he isn't sure if he fully believes Merlin, but he listens, and that is more than Merlin could've hoped for.

In the end, Merlin's voice is rough from talking, his face pale and tight with worry. Arthur has stepped back from him a while ago, first crossing his arms and snapping out questions, and then he started pacing.

"I swear," Merlin says lowly, "I never intended to bring anyone harm. I was born like this... and I have finally found a purpose."

"And what would that be, Merlin?" Arthur asks, but he doesn't sound harsh; he sounds tired, staring into the flames of the fireplace.

Merlin gulps. Now or never. "Protecting you. I- I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to have to choose. Because no matter the outcome... it would've burdened you."

Still staring into the flames, Arthur laughs humorlessly. "And yet it seems I did it anyway."

At Merlin's silence, Arthur finally turns, and he almost looks sick. "Does Gaius know?"

"Yes," Merlin whispers, but he's not afraid that Arthur will punish Gaius for it. Arthus isn't Uther.

"Of course," Arthur mumbles, and his eyes show that he's working through what he's heard so far. "How could he not know? After all, a quite powerful warlock is living with him."

Shifting uncomfortably, Merlin wonders if there's anything he can say to make it easier for anyone, but there are no words he can think of.

Arthur scoffs, shaking his head. "That... that can't be..." he trails off, and he's reeling more than Merlin has ever seen him before. "That would mean-"

Abruptly, Arthur turns away, aiming for his chair, before he whirls around again and once more stomps towards Merlin.

"If you're telling the truth," Arthur snaps, and there's a threatening expression on his face, before it softens at Merlin's flinch. "Then why aren't you affected by the magic? Why do you still want to protect me, so much so that you're putting yourself at risk everyday?"

"I," Merlin starts, unsure. "I told you, I think... that you'll be a great king, and I-"

Arthur shakes his head. "No," he interrupts. "Why is the magic not tainting you? Why... why are you still you?" he finishes, quieter.

Merlins heart feels incredibly tender. "Because magic is just a tool, Arthur. Like sword fighting. A tool that some people can use, and some can't. A tool that sometimes is used for good, and sometimes for evil. Having magic says nothing about a person - but the way they use it does."

Silence, only the crackling of the fire can be heard as Merlin watches Arthur's face, seeing the emotions flit over it, the horrible realization. "Then..."

Merlin doesn't say anything. This is a conclusion Arthur should draw, alone, without Merlin's influence.

Arthur looks up, and the light of a candle reflects in his eyes. He looks vulnerable. Pleading. Incredibly young.

Merlin waits as Arthur turns away once more, running a hand through his golden hair, shoulders tense.

"If it's alright with you," Merlin carefully starts, "I'd look after Gaius now. He's gone through hell these past few days."

"Yes, yes," Arthur agrees, sounding crumpled under the weight of tonight's revelations. "Please pass on my well wishes to him again. What happened to him was... unjust." He gets hung up on that word apparently, because he repeats it under his breath, like a death sentence. "Unjust."

Tentatively, Merlin steps towards Arthur, but he doesn't know if it will be welcome right now.

"Goodnight, Sire."

The door has almost closed behind Merlin when he hears the faint "Goodnight" in return. He smiles. Maybe, just maybe, the horrors since the witchfinder arrived are leading the way to their destiny.

Addition: Maybe, because Arthur's actually kind of smart, he realized that Merlin has magic earlier, but tried to convince himself that he hasn't. And maybe Arthur puts two and two together about the witchfinder having actual magic, and he asks Merlin about Morgana. And maybe that would save her, and the kingdom, and ultimately himself. Just saying.

#merlin bbc #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merlin x arthur #merthur #the witchfinder #episode remix #prompt idea #half a fanfic #bc let's be honest I can't not spew copious amounts of words when I try to explain a thought #Merlin's magic revealed #Arthur knows about Merlin's magic #yes these are ao3 tags

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bellamyblakru · 3 years

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You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out (lancelot / merlin)

EKKK I FINISHED THIS OMGGG. thank you so so much for sending this prompt in mor sksksksksk this was so much fun to write and im so happy to get back into writing (for a minute at least 😂). my mercelot heart loved every second of this, so i hope you enjoy it as well🥺💖💖it is very merlin-centric but i hope that doesn’t ruin the experience!! thank you again🥺💖

you can read it here or on ao3!!💖

Merlin stumbled up the stairs into the castle, scarcely aware of his panting echoing loudly in the empty corridor. He knew that he should be throwing himself into Gaius’s room, shutting the door, and sleeping this off, but he couldn’t make it that far. He needed somewhere to go—and fast. He felt the wound pull with each step, the blood soaking his shirt and pants enough that he couldn’t remember what color they originally were.

Lancelot is going to be furious with him.

——————that morning——————

No one was smiling this morning as Merlin made his way to the throne room. A sort of silence had fallen around the castle like a leaden blanket, and Merlin feared that it did not bode well for anyone.

Things have been fine lately, happy almost. Of course that couldn’t last—when could they ever just be at peace?

He pushed open the throne room doors as quietly as he could, peering inside to see most of the knights already assembled staring at the map with matching frowns.

As he walked closer, Eylan and Leon looked up briefly to smile and nod at him before returning to the map, and he realized Gwaine, Percy, and Lancelot were nowhere to be found. Going to his place behind Arthur, who stared at the map with such heat that Merlin was surprised it didn’t burn up immediately, he asked quietly, “Where are the others?”

Arthur jerked up and spun around toward him, surprised evident on his face, “When did you get here?”

Merlin let out a small laugh, “I told you I can be quiet when I want to be, sire.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and huffed, “And you never want to be quiet during hunts? Even when I ask nicely?”

Merlin gaped, “When do you ever ask nicely?”

Arthur smirked, “Fair enough.” he sobered up before continuing, “The others are coming back from a quick patrol I sent them on this morning. When you were collecting herbs for Gaius, a citizen from an outlying village came sobbing about rampant magic wielders killing everyone they come across in the name of freedom.” He shook his head in disgust, “I sent Percival, Gwaine, and Lance to escort the villager home to retrieve his family and friends to bring them into Camelot for safety. They should be back soon with news.”

Merlin swallowed hard at the thought of more magic being used for evil, for destruction. How can he ever show his friends, especially Arthur, how good magic can be if they only ever see it used for pain?

He nodded sharply in reply, masking his face of any sign of distraught, and calmly walked back to the pillar he normally leans against during audience and council meetings.

Moments like these were the hardest. Where his lies buried themselves so deep in his soul that he could feel himself failing to reach the surface for air. He will dream of the pyre tonight, he knew, and will be forced awake with the sound of his own choking from asphyxiation. He will stay awake for hours after, staring into darkness, wondering how much more of his own kin he will have to slaughter before they can claim true liberation. How much blood on his hands will he need to be considered the monster everyone believes him to be with this power?

He felt himself tremble with the thoughts. Looking around the room flooded with the late sunlight, he narrowed his stare at his friends discussing plans around the table, and begrudgingly felt his panic kick in. The trapping feeling suffocating any breath he had—he was trapped, and it was a cage of destiny’s own making.

His eyes darted from door to door, the urge to run, fast and far away, becoming almost unbearable and inescapable. He was considering excusing himself with some bad reason when the door slammed open—knights and the villager in tow.

Lancelot’s eyes immediately snapped to his, and Merlin knew then that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, run—not when Lancelot’s first look towards him was filled with such a deep understanding and sympathy.

Lance knew everything and didn’t think him a monster, and that is what kept him from darting every time Arthur called him useless, or dumb, or threw something at him. He wondered then if Lancelot would run away with him if he asked. Would the knight’s loyalty be tested or would he simply stand by his King without batting an eye? He would never ask Lance to make such a decision, though.

The knight was his closest friend, his most trusted confidante, and every day Merlin ached with the knowledge that Lancelot bared his secrets alongside him. If Merlin was to burn, Lance would be on the next prye.

Merlin refused to let that happen.

He snapped himself out of the daze he fell into, eyes refocusing on the knights speaking with the King. Merlin watched how Lance’s glance kept flicking his way, and when Merlin met the barely concealed worry within them, he tried to give a reassuring smile. However, Lance’s frown deepened—Merlin sighed, And here I thought I was good at this facade.

“..gathered all the others and placed them in a large tavern in the lower town. They should be safe there,” Percy told Arthur, who nodded in response.

The villager was shaking, Merlin belatedly realized, as he looked at Arthur’s chest to speak next, “M-my family appreciates your efforts, s-sire.”

Arthur grimaced, “No need to thank me. I wouldn’t want any more of my people hurt from these maniacs.” He stepped forwards, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, “Go now. Rest with your family, I will make sure you are all seen to, properly.”

The man sputtered his thanks and dropped into a clumsy bow before turning around. Merlin, unable to stop his feet from moving, quickly walked forwards to catch the man before he disappeared, “Sir?”

The man froze, still shaking, as he looked up to Merlin with confusion. Merlin continued, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The man gave him a gentle smile, seeming to relax with Merlin’s presence, “I’m alright, young man, thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

Merlin gave a tentative smile, aiming for charming and warming, “If you ever need any assistance, I live with the Court Physician. Ask for Gaius or myself, and we will be there.”

The man clasped arms with him, a crooked smile forming, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again—thank you all.”

Merlin watched him go, unease in his gut. He didn’t know what it was about the man that made him uneasy, but it simmered long after the villager left them alone in the throne room.

Merlin turned around to see the others talking amongst each other and he made it to Lancelot’s side just as Gwaine began talking.

“Princess, I’m telling you: no one seemed scared! Only that man’s family seemed a little unsettled, and even then, it seems suspicious to me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Do you expect them all to be sobbing and cowering? Of course they are putting up strong fronts! If my home was under attack, I know I wouldn’t want to show fear. I would rather be fighting against the attackers than hiding away in some strange town.”

Gwaine didn’t reply, but Merlin knew that Arthur’s answer wasn’t enough for the knight. Merlin stayed quiet, though, already calculating when he should go out to take care of this. Arthur ruined his calculations with his next proclaiment, however.

While rubbing the bridge of his nose, the King sighed out, “We will go as a group tomorrow to face them. Gather the provisions tonight, prepare the horses with any protection we can gather in the short amount of time. We will meet in front of the stables at first light.”

And with a ‘Yes, sire’ muttered by everyone, Arthur dismissed them.

Merlin didn’t hesitate to beeline for the door and escape before Arthur ordered him to do anything—he needed to think of something, and rather fast at that.

Merlin found himself on top of the battlements, staring at the horizon that seemed too far and much too close all at once. He usually found himself here to clear his mind. The view made him feel alive, more connected to the world, and, most importantly, he didn’t have to hold such a tight grip on his magic this far above.

No one ever came here besides him.

With a sigh, Merlin loosened his hold and let his magic out through his nose with his breathing. His skin seemed to stop crawling from the inside out, the sky looked more blue, and the air felt sweeter in his lungs. It had been too long since he could let go and he knew part of his trapped feeling had to do with his magic being stifled within his veins for too long. He took a deep breath, willing his magic back in slightly, and he laid down looking up towards the sky.

The sun will be going down soon, and Merlin figured he will be leaving after dinner to approach these rouges himself to handle them before it got the knights killed. He glared at the sky when he realized he couldn’t ask Lancelot to come with him—not again. He has endangered that man’s life quite enough just by breathing, and with his hope to keep Lancelot safe for as long as possible, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. Lance would say yes, like always, but Merlin cannot—will not—actively put him in harm's way.

Merlin shuddered thinking of a life without Lancelot in it, and, well, it was simply unfathomable.

Lance was his rock, his reason to keep fighting when shit hits the fan, the only person who constantly sees Merlin for who he is and does not cower from it. Lancelot embraces every part of Merlin, flaw and all, and Merlin would be completely lost without him in his life. Lance swears that Merlin is the bravest man he ever met, but was it out of bravery or selfishness that Merlin faced all these threats alone? Merlin didn’t know, and he didn’t want to think too much about it in fear of the true answer (even though, deep down, he knew his answer was one he didn’t like).

So, the plan was rather simple: leave Camelot at dusk, talk or fight with the rouges, and make it back before sunrise.

It sounds easy enough.

A few hours later, after successfully avoiding Lancelot’s knowing gaze and delivering the King’s dinner, Merlin set out to the nearby town. He knew it was only an hour or two away from Camelot, so he snuck out of Camelot, grabbed his mare Honey, and set off briskly. His mare knew the drill by now and obliged easily, especially with Merlin’s magic soothing her with each gallop.

Soon, Merlin entered a clearing close to the town’s borders. He tied Honey a good distance away, leaving her some food, and took a deep breath before walking into the field. That uneasy feeling returned in gut and he knew this wouldn’t end well.

Just as he thought that, five hooded people walked out to meet him in the middle of the large clearing.

“Emrys, it’s good to see you again.”

Merlin squinted in the dark, “Again?”

The man laughed, throwing his hood back, “We met a few hours ago. I hope I left a good enough impression to be remembered.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Of course it’s you,” he scowled at the villager he met earlier today, “Why would it be anyone else? Why did you seek aid with King Arthur if you are part of the problem?”

Merlin was fairly certain he knew the answer already, but he needed time to access the power of each person here. The one on the left held the most potential, magic coming off her in waves, but the rest were mediocre at best, if the last person had anything at all but small tricks up his sleeve.

The man was in the middle of explaining what Merlin was sure to be an “ingenious” plan to get close to King Arthur when he interrupted, “How did you hide your magic from me? You know I’m Emrys and all, so you must realize I can read you magical abilities by proximity, but I didn’t sense it on you originally. So, how?”

The man blinked, and then glared at Merlin for his interruption, “I have a pendant that covers my magical scent. It’s been passed down through generations. My mother gave it to me to get close to the King…”

Merlin tuned him out again, pondering such an artifact. It would be useful to him against more powerful creatures, but he wondered if it hurt at all or if he could use that instead of shoving his magic deep down everyday.

When all the sorcerers looked at him expectantly, Merlin frowned, “Did you ask something?”

The powerful one spoke up this time, her voice much stronger than her peer, “We asked for you to join us, Emrys, to bring peace to our lands once more. To restore magic, free our people, make you the rightful King.”

Merlin flinched slightly, “Rightful King? I am no King. Arthur is the once and future King, the rightful heir to the throne and the only man I will serve. But I had a feeling you knew my answer already, so why try this?”

The woman shrugged, a small wicked smile on her lips, “Proving your loyalty in the flesh is a nice incentive to make it easier to kill you—the most powerful warlock or not, you are still a traitor.”

Merlin rolled his shoulders, “Let’s dance, then, shall we?”

It was brutal, to say the least, as Merlin limped back to Honey trying to ignore the blackened, scorched earth and bloodied bodies scattered about. He looked down at the wound in his abdomen and debated whether he should just stay over night or make it to Camelot before light. He completed the first two steps of his plan, he might as well continue with it. So with a painful moan, Merlin hoisted himself on top of his mare, who neighed upset at the smell of bad copper, and willed her to go back home. He didn’t have the strength to hold the reins, not when both hands were being used to staunch the blood flow.

He swayed with the frantic galloping, trying to forget the pure malice on the villager's face when he stabbed him when Merlin was off guard for a second. The villager had taunted to kill Merlin’s knight when he was done with him after he managed to stick the knife and that’s when Merlin’s magic exploded out of him. His magic responded with his emotions—and when Lance was threatened, his heart stopped beating for a second before the world exploded in a blinding white light. No one survived after that blow.

Merlin was barely conscious when he made it back to the stables, but he was able to sneak back in the way he came out—completely unnoticed by the guards, even with his blood loss, Merlin knew how to get in and out of Camelot quietly and quickly.

Lancelot will freak out when he sees him, but Merlin had no other choice. Limping, he blindly remembered the route to Lancelot’s room as he clung onto consciousness with every fiber of his being.

Just a few more steps. Lance will keep you safe—he always keeps you safe.

With his vision narrowing with the blackness crawling in, Merlin quickened his steps and landed in front of Lance’s room. He collapsed, hitting the door with his body, and the last thing he saw was Lance’s terrified expression before he welcomed unconsciousness with a sigh of relief.

——————

Merlin woke up, wincing from the ache in his body, and blinked a couple times at the ceiling before he remembered what happened. He quickly sat up, and then immediately regretted the action when the room started swaying.

When he managed to calm his breathing and dizziness, he leaned against the headboard of the bed and his eyes found a still awake Lancelot, who was staring blankly at the roaring fire.

“Lance?” Merlin croaked out, his voice dry and scratchy like he had been screaming for hours.

The knight slowly looked up from the fireplace, and Merlin saw how red-rimmed his eyes were.

“Lance, I’m—“

He threw his hand up, stopping Merlin, and stood up to start pacing in front of the bed. Merlin watched, heart aching, as Lance tried to work his breathing into something less panicked, less terrified.

He stopped abruptly, spinning to look at Merlin. They held the stare for a moment before Lance started glowering at him, “Merlin.”

Usually, the way Lance says his name gives him butterflies, not that he ever admitted that to anyone, but this time made him look down in shame and he started absentmindedly picking a loose thread in the knight’s blanket. Merlin realized then that he was completely cleaned, in Lance’s small clothes, and there was a glass of water next to the bed. Merlin’s heart warmed at the actions, but when he looked back up to see a still fuming Lance, Merlin scooted forwards to try and grab the man’s hand.

Lance let himself be grabbed, and Merlin pulled him onto the bed in front of him as whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Lance huffed, his anger still not dissipated, “Merlin,” and said warlock looked up to see waring emotions in the knight’s eyes, “I was more than scared. I was...terrified.” He shook his head, using his free hand to wipe down his face, “I couldn’t find you after the meeting, so I searched the entire castle for you. I knew you were planning on doing something idiotic, but I didn’t realize you would do it so soon.”

Merlin heard Lancelot’s breathing hitch before he continued, “I thought maybe you went out for more herbs, or that Arthur had you working overtime and that's why I couldn’t find you. I-I couldn’t sleep when I figured out that you must have gone without me. And I know you can handle yourself—Gods!” He stood up again, anger and fear and pain in every movement, “I was so scared, Merlin! Do you know what it’s like to know your best friend left you behind on some self-sacrificing quest for some reason? Is it because you don’t want my help? You would rather risk your life over and over again without me at your side as backup? Am I that horrible?”

At Lance’s frantic questions, Merlin felt the tears falling down his face as he vehemently shook his head no.

Lance saw this, stopped moving, and whispered, “My heart completely stopped for a moment when I saw the state you were in. Merlin,” he let out a small, broken gasp of air, “I thought this time that I-that I would lose you. And I can’t—“ he covered his mouth when a strangled sort of sob escaped him, the anger bleeding out to utter exhaustion.

Merlin blindly reached out for Lancelot’s hand again, pulling him back down to him, and they stayed like that, intertwined, for a few moments before Merlin had regained enough strength to talk.

While rubbing Lance’s knuckles with his thumb, Merlin quietly spoke, “Lancelot,” he waited until the man’s beautiful brown eyes met his, “I cannot lose you.”

And when Lance opened his mouth to say something, Merlin plowed on, “I should’ve told you that a long time ago. You-you keep me centered. You make me want to live, Lance. Not survive, not exist. Live.

I never had someone who looks at me the way you do, who knows all the dark shit about me and continues to look at me the same way. I make mistakes, constantly. I hurt people, Lance, and it kills me a little more each time. I hurt my own kin to keep Camelot safe, to keep you safe, and I ache knowing that I damned you with me. That’s the worst pain of all. I was born damned, but you? I dragged you into it, and I will not allow you to be set aflame alongside me. I refuse.

You deserve a life without this extra burden I force upon you. I am cursed with this life, but you have the ability to turn a blind eye, to not be feared for simply breathing.”

Merlin felt the bed shift, and his brief thought that he finally drove his only true friend in his life away was squashed when Lance sat next to him, pulling him underneath his arm. Merlin’s tears came back when curled into Lance’s side, his hand on the knight’s chest feeling his heart beating steadily.

Lance stroked through Merlin’s hair softly, “Merlin,” and there were those damn butterflies again, “I choose to stay at your side. You are the best person I know. And before you deny it, I know you are forced to make hard decisions every other day, and I know you are the most powerful warlock to ever exist, and, in spite of those facts, who you are, at your core, never changes.

You can burn cities down with a flick of your wrist, you can harm anything or anyone with barely a thought, you can overthrow Arthur at any moment, but you know why you don’t? Because, in your heart and in your soul, you are a good, beautiful person. You see the light when others only see the dark, you defend those who cannot fight for themselves, you love so deeply and unconditionally that everyone you meet can’t help but adore you.

So, no, I will not let you pick for me who I chose to love. I picked you to stand by, with your magic and all, and I will always pick you. If you wanted to leave Camelot tonight, I would pack my bags without hesitation. You did not damn or burden me, love. You are all that I believe in, and I will never turn my back on you.

I will be by your side, for as long as you want me, to whatever end. If we burn tomorrow, then we burn together. I’ve made peace with my decision a long time ago.”

He kissed the top of Merlin’s head when he finished, pulling him closer to let him cry onto his chest while rubbing the warlock’s back. With his free hand, he wiped away his own tears before grabbing Merlin’s loose hand.

“So...” Lancelot said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, “if you leave on some self-sacrificing mission without letting me help you again, I will tell Gaius on you.”

Merlin gasped dramatically, leaning up on Lance’s chest to look him in the eyes, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Lance smirked, “Oh, I would.”

Merlin gaped, the smile breaking through betraying his false exasperation, “Fine. I’ll bring you with me next time, but promise me one thing?”

Lance softened, nodding, and Merlin laid back down listening to the knight’s heart beat as he spoke, “If I tell you to run, you will run without hesitation.”

There was silence for a moment before Lance responded, “I cannot promise that, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned, looking back up to see Lance’s eyes already on him, “I cannot promise that because I would rather die than leave you alone during a battle. Even if the odds are stacked against us, I will never leave you behind. If I run, you run. If you fight, I fight. We are in this together, Merls.”

Merlin couldn’t stop the tears from falling again as words sank in fully, “To whatever end, huh?”

Lance smiled softly, nodding, “Let’s get some rest. After almost scaring me to death, I am completely spent.”

Merlin went still, preparing himself to leave the warmth of Lancelot’s body, but Lance tilted his chin up as he asked, “Stay the night?”

Merlin beamed, wrapping himself completely with his knight. He fit into Lance’s side perfectly, like it was always meant to be the two of them against the world.

And when Merlin drifted off to sleep, with Lance’s hands still rubbing his back, he felt lighter than he had in years. And for the first time in a long time, no nightmares plagued his dreams.

#ashley answers #ashley writes #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #mercelot #merlin x lancelot #bbc merlin #THANK YOU LOVELY 🥺💖💖💖💖i adore uuuu #my first time in mercelot territory....hopefully it doesn’t suck LOL #mercelot fanfic #also lol at me basically writing it all in one sitting 💀

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aecs-multy · 3 years

Text

I'd make the devil prostrate before you

Summary:

When Merlin wakes up and Arthur is not by his side, he know that he's going to have to get him back. The bandits aren't the ones that should be scared of him, it's the king who should be for being such a reckless idiot and going to fight them alone instead of bringing Merlin with him.

---

Merlin was going to murder him. Screw destiny, screw Albion, screw everything. If the bandits didn’t kill Arthur, he would. More than once. He was going to bring him back to life time and time again and he would kill him in every possible painful way he could come up with.

When he had been informed that the king had gone missing and no one knew where he was, Merlin had already come up with a thousand ways of making him regret the day he chose to ignore the sorcerer’s words.

“That idiot never listens to me. Become the court sorcerer. People will listen to you. You will have influence,” Merlin muttered under his breath while he packed some essentials for the trip. “Well, all that is worthless if the freaking king goes and doesn’t listen to me, that clotpole!”

Merlin was aware he was receiving weird looks from the stable’s boy, but he couldn’t care less. He was bristling with energy, his whole body vibrating with the magic that cursed through his veins, alert, ready for anything he commanded it to do.

He mounted his horse and went in the search of Arthur, begging to The Triple Goddess that his love was alive. He wanted the privilege of murdering him for himself.

Merlin would be lying, though, if he said that he wasn’t afraid. His heart seemed to beat too fast and too hard for it to be normal. He was feeling cold all over even under the heat of the summer sun. His hands trembled in the reins of his mount.

Despite the paralyzing fear that he felt, the sorcerer put on a brave face and hung on to the almost-blinding rage that had been fueling him since the news of the king’s disappearance. No one would touch Arthur and live to tell the tale as long as he walked the earth, even if he had to burn the world to ashes to find those who had brought harm to his other half.

oOoOo

“The mighty Arthur Pendragon,” The man said, circling around him and hitting him in the stomach, making him groan and loose his breath for some seconds before being able to look back up at the man with all the hatred he could muster. “Defenseless against me. The king of Camelot rendered powerless without his knights and his precious sorcerer.” The man’s laugh echoed around the room. “You’re nothing without them, poor little boy.”

As if to prove his point, his last word was accompanied with a blow to Arthur’s face, and soon the coppery taste of blood blossomed in his mouth. His shoulders and arms ached with the strain that came with being chained to the ceiling by his wrists. That was nothing, though, compared to the pain that he felt on his side, where he was certain that he had several broken bones from the maze used to torture him.

“At least I’m above the lot of you, so scared of one man that you have to chain me. Afraid that I’ll humiliate you in a fair fight?” Arthur mocked with ragged breath, earning himself another hit. He should have learned that talking back was of no use, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let them break him. His body might be mauled, but his spirit was intact.

He just had to wait for Merlin, and that scared him more than this bandits ever could. Just the thought of it made him shiver. He was in big trouble, and that had nothing to do with being kept captive by some bandits. He feared the moment Merlin came to save him, certain that whatever the sorcerer had planned for him was a million times worse than this.

Arthur should have listened to him. He knew better than to come here alone, but he just couldn’t let the bandits trade for the life of his sister as if she were an object. As soon as he had received notice that the bandits had captured Morgana and asked for him to come unescorted to pay for her ramson he had had to do something.

Obviously, Merlin was against the idea, but he slipped away in the darkness of the night and went to the location the captors of his sister had told him they would be waiting. To his surprise, they didn’t have Morgana, but now they had him.

Merlin was going to skin him. He almost wanted to ask the bandits for protection against his court sorcerer. Maybe he would even have, but soon something seemed to shake the whole room. Hell, the whole building seemed to tremble. Several guards fell to the ground when they lost his footing and even the leader hat to grab Arthur’s chained arm to avoid falling.

Shit, Arthur thought. Merlin was here. He sighed and closed his eyes, accepting the fate that awaited him.

oOoOo

His magic was flowing out of him, surrounding the small castle and searching for Arthur. Bandits tried to stop him, but they barely took one step before they were thrown away with enough force to make cracks in the walls they collided with. He could sense the vibration of the ground beneath him, reacting to all the energy emanating from him.

An arrow flew towards him, but stopped a mere meter away from his head. He reached for the core of his power and with just a thought, the rest of his magic inside of him exploded, sending everything and everyone flying.

When his magic recognized Arthur, he walked that way, leaving a trail of unconscious bodies behind him. Soon, only a door stood between them and his magic burst them open without a problem. Dust was floating in the air and falling from the cracks in the ceiling with every tremor of the castle. Right now, Merlin was the one that kept it from crushing to the ground.

The expressions of the bandits were full of fear, terror dripping from them in waves. Good. His power lashed out and made them all fall to their knees, pressing them down and down until they were lying motionless, unable to move even an inch.

When his gaze focused on Arthur, stronger tremors shook the castle as his magic flowed from him like the waves of the ocean crashing against the shoreline. At least the prat had the decency of looking apologetic. Well, apologetic and about to empty his bladder in his torn pants if the panic in his face was anything to go by.

Merlin’s heart softened and ached when he finally noticed the state his lover was in. Several bruises and cutes adorned his body, the sight making his magic reach out to soothe him. He could see how the tension in Arthur's shoulders ebbed slightly and how his eyes became glassy as a small smile appeared on his face.

He went to stand in front of him and softly cradled Arthur’s face, his thumb brushing carefully over a bruise that was starting to form in his cheek. The king bowed his head and said, “I’m sorry.”

Merlin used his magic to make the chains disappear and held Arthur against his body when his legs gave out after hours of being held on his toes. He pulled him into a hug, with Merlin’s arms around his waist, and Arthur hid his face in the crook of his neck.

The sorcerer felt how Arthur’s arms moved to circle his neck as he returned the embrace.

After restoring the building enough to be sure it wouldn’t collapse, his magic slowly retreated to circle around both of them, making sure that Arthur was safe, alive. With a content sigh, Merlin started focusing on healing the body in his arms, noticing how Arthur sagged against him more and more with every injury that he healed.

“You’re in so much trouble that you’ll need your whole life to make it up to me, but right now, you’re safe. I’m here, love, you’re safe with me,” Merlin said, kissing Arthur on the top of his head.

oOoOo

Arthur’s heart swelled with emotion at his words and found himself speechless. He knew he was safe with Merlin. His arms around him were like a fortress, keeping the threats of the world away from him. He had never felt safer that with Merlin, and not only because of his magic but because Arthur had given him his heart, and the sorcerer protected it with everything he had, making him know how loved he was.

Even when the castle seemed to be about to crumble down, Arthur had known that nothing would happen to him. Merlin’s magic was like a hurricane, able to destroy everything that would dare approach him, but it worked as a shield too, because he kept those he cared about in the eye of the storm, where they were safe from the winds that would crush anyone that wanted to cause them harm.

For a moment, he forgot where they were when lips pressed against his hair and just enjoyed his rapidly recovering body and the man that held him, but that didn’t last long.

“Look how cute, the princess needed to be saved,” The leader of the bandits said.

Arthur stiffened when he remembered where they were and took a step back sharply, as if he had been jerked awake from a good dream.

He looked at the man and the bandit’s eyes were full of a hatred that he returned tenfold. Before he could say anything, Merlin stepped in front of him.

“It seems like you are the one that needs saving,” Merlin said, and Arthur smirked when he heard the venom that laced with his words. “You know, after the ban against magic was lifted, I finally was able to learn a lot of things about my power. There are many spells, but I can think of one that I’m sure you’ll love.”

Arthur loved the way the man’s face paled even more. He knew what it was like to face Merlin’s anger, having been there before, and it would make even the bravest of men run away in fright.

“I will bind you to this castle so that you can never leave its walls, condemned to stay here for the rest of your life.”

“What? No! Please, have mercy, please!” The bandit pleaded, but with a movement of Merlin’s wrist, no more sound came out of his mouth.

“Adiuro vos in loco isto ut non numquam etiam,” Merlin said, and with a flash of golden in his eyes, the spell was cast.

oOoOo

They camped half way to their home because Arthur was too tired to make the trip in one go. Merlin had healed his body, but he could see how the captivity had affected his king, so he decided that resting would be the best.

Now that the worry had faded away after rescuing Arthur, he had started to feel relief, but also the anger that he had felt before. Merlin knew why he had done it, but it also hurt that he had been left behind, especially when he could have helped and all this problem would have been avoided.

Arthur was silent, sitting beside him, his focus on the flame before them. Merlin could actually feel the guilt that emanated from him, but it did nothing to dissipate his anger. Several minutes passed where the only sound that they could listen was the sound of the fire, but then Merlin heard Arthur sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He kept quiet for a long time, pondering everything he wanted to say, all the arguments he had come up with during Arthur’s search, but when he spoke, it was only to say, “Why?”

Arthur looked at him with his head tilted to his side, his emotions clear on his eyes, and Merlin saw the flicker of confusion at the question.

“Why did you leave without me?” Merlin clarified, and then Arthur looked away, a blush of embarrassment clear in his cheeks even in the night.

“I… I just- I don’t know, I-” Arthur stuttered, but then he closed his mouth and run a hand to his hair, clearly distressed. Merlin waited, but Arthur didn’t attempt to say anything again, so he decided to do it instead.

“I told you to wait until the morning,” he said, barely over a whisper, but in the silence it almost seemed too loud. “I told you that we would both go there to help Morgana. I know how worried you were because she is like a sister to me too, but I knew that going to get her in the middle of the night wouldn’t solve anything because we needed to rest. You sneaked out ignoring everything I told you.” His voice had started to get louder, more irritated as his emotions took hold on him. In the distance, lightning struck. “You got captured because if you had waited until morning like I had told you, you would have discovered that she escaped and was back in the castle before the sun rose. All you did was useless because there was no one to save! You got yourself tortured for nothing!”

Merlin stood up and started pacing, not trying to control himself as he ended almost yelling, the fear and worry he had felt when he had woken up alone in their chambers coming back to him. “I could have lost you! Do you know how worried I was? I knew where you were, but not if you were safe, not if I would be able to arrive in time. If you were going to go anyways then you wake me up and we go, together-”

“I’m fine now, I’m alive, so stop shouting at me! I know I made a mistake, but everything is alright now, so stop worrying, I’m not a kid you need to take care of!” Arthur yelled, standing up too and standing in front of him.

“Then stop acting like one!” Merlin yelled back, his voice cracking. The tears he hadn’t known he had been holding back since he had woken up finally spilled and run down his cheeks. “I know you’re alright now, but I didn’t know that before, when I was riding in your search. I didn’t know what they would do to you, and I was scared, Arthur. You’re the king and you have a responsibility to your kingdom, but you’re also so much more to me, my partner, my best friend, my everything, and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” He said softly, his anger deflating until there was nothing left in him but such a deep ache that came with the knowledge of how wrong things could have gone. “I love you, so much that it hurts to even think of being apart from you. And it also hurts that you would leave me behind, because I thought we were past keeping things from each other and going behind each other’s backs since you discovered my magic. Guess I was wrong,” he finished, and now that he said it out loud, he noticed that most of his feelings revolved around that, about Arthur not trusting Merlin enough to tell him that he was going to go anyways.

He felt drained of all his energy and he sat down back again, cross-legged, with his elbows resting on his legs and his face hiding behind his hands. Merlin didn’t hold back, letting the tears flow freely as his body shook. He guessed he deserved it, after all, he had hidden his magic from Arthur, so it’s only normal that Arthur would hide things from him too.

He had been so foolish thinking that things between them would be alright, but how could they when Arthur didn’t trust him? It was all his fault. He should have told Arthur, but fear had stopped him, like something had stopped the king from asking Merlin to come with him.

“You’re an idiot if you think I don’t trust you,” he heard Arthur say, and he lifted his head to look at him.

oOoOo

Arthur felt something squeezing his heart when he saw the miserable look in Merlin’s face, and soon he was blinking back tears of his own, but he continued talking, regardless of how difficult it was to get the words out when his throat had seemed to close up.

“I trust you with my life, with the life of everyone in my kingdom, with the future of Camelot, with my heart. What I did wasn’t out of a lack of trust, it was out of fear. I thought Morgana was in danger, and I couldn’t let any harm come to her,” he said, but when he tried to open his mouth to speak again, Merlin cut him, his voice so weak that it hurt to hear it.

“But why didn’t you bring me with you?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t like it and that you would argue. You had told me to wait, but I couldn’t and I didn’t want to waste any more time,” he said, desperately trying to make Merlin see why he had done it.

“You could have taken me, you know that if you asked me I would move the mountains, conquer the sky and tame the sea for you. If you had told me how you felt I would have helped you without a word,” he said.

“I…” Arthur knew that, but in that moment all that he could think about was rescuing Morgana, he didn’t think about anything else, and that was the problem, “I didn’t think, I just acted.”

Tense seconds of silence passed where Merlin looked at him with so much pain in his eyes that Arthur wanted to hit himself for being so stupid. He could almost feel Merlin’s pain as if it were his own, because he knew how he would have been if the roles were reversed, if it were Merlin that had disappeared in the middle of the night.

Arthur would have gone mad with worry, no matter how capable Merlin was of taking care of himself.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” he said, crouching down in front of the sorcerer and taking his hands in his. “Never think that I don’t trust you, because I do, more than I trust myself. And you’re right, we’re past the hiding and all that, and I should have told you, for that, I’m sorry. I never meant for it to end like this, I just wanted to help my sister and I forgot that I had you by my side.” Arthur kissed his knuckles and smiled sadly at him. “Come on, I’ll let you call me a dollophead without sending you to the stocks.”

That managed to get a chuckle out of Merlin and with the sound some of the tension in the air dissipated. “You really are a dollophead,” Merlin said, and Arthur could hear the fondness in his voice.

“I don’t know what I did in my other life, but it must have been legendary because I certainly haven’t done anything worthy in this one to deserve you,” Arthur said, moving to stand up and pull Merlin with him by the hands.

“You’re right, I’m too good for you,” Merlin laughed wetly, sniffing and brushing his tears with his forearm, not letting go of Arthur.

Arthur gaped at him through his smile and said, “You can’t address me like that,” remembering the words he had said the first time they met.

Merlin didn’t disappoint when he answered, “Sorry. You’re right, I’m too good for you… my lord.”

“You were such an idiot back then,” Arthur laughed, throwing his head back, feeling lighter than before and dizzy with relief, knowing that they would be alright.

“You were such a prat back then, although, now that I think about it, you haven’t changed much, have you?” Merlin mocked, both of them chuckling, and Arthur shook his head.

“I love you so much,” he said, his heart so full of affection towards the man in front of him that he felt like it would burst any moment now.

“I love you too,” Merlin replied, a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “but if you pull something like that again I swear the torture methods they use will be nothing compared to what I’ll do to you.”

“Well, you can always bind me to your bed, can’t you?” he whispered next to Merlin’s ear and enjoying way too much the shiver that run through the sorcerer’s body.

“I- Wh- I-” Merlin stuttered, his eyes wide and dark, probably having imagined the situation. “Oh god, you’re in so much trouble.” He finally said, a grin so wide in his face that it might split it open.

They kept staring at each other and soon they were resting their foreheads together, slowly moving to embrace each other. Arthur drank in the feeling of being in Merlin’s arms again like a thirsty man seeing water for the first time in days.

“Never leave me again, please,” Merlin said, his breath tickling the skin of his neck, his tone full of vulnerability.

“Never again, I promise, love, never again,” he said in earnest, vowing to himself that no matter what could happen in the future, they would deal with it together.

#merlin #merlin bcc #merthur #merlin x arthur #MERLIN FANDOM #Arthur Pendragon #fanfic #merthur fic #one shot #fanfiction #fic

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kob131 · 3 years

Note

Roast "Moedred" fans that insist that Mordred did nothing wrong.

Oh ho ho ho-

This is gonna be good

It's always so fucking strange to see Draco In Leather Pants in action. Watching as a blatantly flawed or even evil character have all their negative traits purged so people can fuck them.

Which pretty much sums up the 'Moedred' fans as a whole. A bunch of horny fucks whose hormone overrode basic logic in their brains as they proclaim the girl with anger issues out the whazoo is somehow blameless in the fall of Camelot and instead think that the person who got motherfucking RAPED is at fault because the clearly immature knight is saying they want to be heir after revealing they're the kid of a power hungry tyrannical witch so logically they're probably not much better. Sure, Mordred was really saying 'hey can I be your son since my mother gave negative shits about me?' but she couldn't even fucking make that clear in any way, shape or form! And then she completely lost sight of what she wanted to do (to make her father happy) and instead decided that hey, my misunderstood sorrow should be taken out on the ENTIRE FUCKING KINGDOM who had dick all to do with my issuses.

And so she decided to burn down the kingdom of her own father, all in a child's temper tantrum. And surprise! Said father who outclassed her multiple times as a fighter killed her ass without even a fight (canonically, she never disarmed Arturia because Arturia already LOST Excalibur at that point). But even after her death and return as a Servant, she still didn't understand her true motivations until she was fucking dying AGAIN and STILL showed the exact same issues that caused that situation in the first place.

All while this may seem like a roast of Mordred- the fact of the matter is that ALL OF THIS is blatantly shown in the show up to the point that Mordred herself shows REGRET for her actions and these fuckers STILL try to blame her father for her own actions, ignoring how a running theme in Mordred's story is that she wants to be her own person which naturally comes with owning up to her own flaws.

All this effort and blatant showing wasted on some horny idiots who want to fuck the tomboy even if it means making her a cardboard cutout. Enjoy the chaffing dumbasses!

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uniasus · 3 years

Text

Dogs & Ruins

Doing a double hitter tonight - this summer of whump story covers days 9 AND 10. It’s also a follow up to Thin Ice, though no need to have read that one.

Read below or on Ao3. (I’d rec the latter, it’s roughly 1.5K)

----

“Shit,” Gwaine said, doing his best to slide to a stop before he hit the wall. His boots slid in the leaf litter. He turned to head back out but ran into Merlin.

“Oof!” Merlin said as they collided. He fell to the floor, but Gwaine kept his balance. Behind them, the sound of yipping dogs got louder.

“Dead end!" Gwaine said, pulling Merlin to his feet and leading him further into the ruins.

They'd been doing nothing but exploring, taking time away from Camelot. Gwaine didn’t know if Merlin realized, but he’d purposefully led them outside of Camelot’s borders. It felt safer for what he wanted to do, but he’d never imagined stumbling across a pair of bandits. He for sure didn’t expect them to have trained hunting dogs.

Gwaine ran down what he thought was an alley at one point in the past. The old stone buildings here were of various heights, some walls intact, others crumbling or harvested. Thankfully, the place seemed as maze-like to him as it did the bandits, for they’d not be cut-off or herded while trying to flee. But who cared if the men caught up to him and Merlin, the dogs were faster. And had sharp teeth.

Behind him, Merlin stumbled. He went down with a curse, but before Gwaine could turn around and help him Merlin was on his feet and running after Gwaine again. Left, right, right again. Gwaine hadn’t thought the ruins were this big earlier, and parts of them felt familiar. Just his luck he’d lead them in circles.

“Here!” Gwaine ducked into a building. Two of the walls were tall enough to hide behind while sitting, the other two gone to rubble. He threw himself into the corner, chest heaving. Merlin fell beside him, breathing heavily.

“We need to get out of here,” Merlin gasped.

“You’re telling me. Do you think you can lead us out?”

“Me?” Merlin turned to stare at him.

“Yeah.”

“What makes you think I can when you couldn’t?”

“A hunch.”

In reality, that hunch was the memory of Merlin’s eyes flashing gold in cold river water, both of them trapped under ice.

The barking got closer. Worse, Gwaine could hear the two men talking nearby. They could run for it, or sit here and hope -

“Nice dog,” Merlin said as the beast rounded the corner.

It snarled, slowly stalking into the ruined building. The second dog slunk in too, both of them showing sharp teeth.

“I think they found them!” one of the bandits cried.

Gwaine slowly rose to his feet, hand on his hilt. Trapped in here with two dogs blocking the exit was bad enough. Trapped in here with two dogs and two men would be worse.

“Do you have meat in your bag to toss them, Merlin?”

“No. Why would I? Nice dog. You don’t really want to bite us, do you?” Merlin also slowly stood, hand palm out in front of him toward the hunting dogs.

Gwaine noticed blood on his palm. “You’re bleeding!”

“Just a scrape from when I fell,” Merlin said, not taking his eyes off the dogs. “Easy there. Nice dogs.”

“Good boys,” a new voice said. The two bandits came into view and stood behind the dogs. The shorter one gave Merlin and Gwaine a once-over. He dismissed Merlin fairly quickly, but his eyes lingered on Gwaine's sword and leather gear.

“Hand over the sword,” the taller bandit said. “Still in the sheath, or I’ll whistle for these dogs to attack.”

“Wouldn’t you rather just fall into a nap?”

Everyone turned to look at Gwaine, befuddled. Gwaine only looked back at Merlin, hoping that despite the fact they hadn’t had the conversation Gwaine wanted to yet, Merlin would still catch on that he knew about Merlin’s magic and was okay with the man using it.

“Yeah,” Gwaine said, eyes still locked with Merlin’s blue ones. “A good, golden sleep.” He put up his own hand, matching Merlin’s, and wiggled the fingers.

Merlin blanched. He looked more terrified at the idea that Gwaine knew about his magic than the dogs ready to bite into their legs.

A bandit whistled and the dogs jumped, one to each of them. Gwaine brought his sword out in a flash, swiping at the dog. It shied away, twisting to find another opening. Merlin yelped and the other dog growled, but Gwaine had no time to look. He hated fighting animals and dogs worse of all. They were too low for proper sword swings. To make matters worse, the bandits had trained the dogs to fight with them. The taller bandit rushed him with a short sword and the dog took to nipping at Gwaine's legs. He had to alternate kicks at the dog and unbalanced sword swings at the human, swearing the entire time.

“Merlin! I really do think-”

The human and dog dropped to the ground.

Gwaine stared as he panted for two breaths before looking around. The other dog and bandit also lay on the stone, inches from Merlin. Merlin sat on the ground, hunched over to clutch his bleeding leg.

"Shit." Gwaine dropped to the ground next to Merlin, supplanting Merlin's hands with his own. The blood was warm and still flowing. "Can you heal it?"

"Heal it?" Merlin's voice was high with fear. As much as Gwaine wanted to soothe it, he had to deal with his own rising panic at Merlin's dog bite.

"Yes. Heal it."

"Um, no."

"No?" Gwaine looked up from the wound to Merlin's face. The other man wouldn't meet his eyes, suspiciously focused on digging through his pack.

"No," Merlin repeated.

"Merlin, I'm not upset with you. I want you to use your magic to heal yourself."

Merlin blushed. "I suck at healing spells. I literally can't heal myself."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Move your hands."

Merlin poured water over the teeth marks, the best cleaning he could provide right now, then Gwaine helped him put on an ointment and wrap his leg. It was only as he helped Merlin to his feet to begin limping out of the ruins that Gwaine turned his attention to their would-be killers.

"What'd you do to them?"

"Exactly as you said. Put them to sleep. They'll wake up soon, it doesn't last more than two hours."

"We're not getting far before they wake then."

"We will if we hide their clothes."

"Ah, Merlin. This is why I like you."

They'd talk more seriously about Merlin's magic later, but Merlin already knew the important bits: Gwaine knew and he didn't care.

#fic rec #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #sir gwaine #magic reveal reveal #summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #summerofwhump10 #animals #trapped #my fanfiction

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

Jax + 👀⏰🚭

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

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Up in Smoke

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, overused tropes y’all have already read (friends to lovers + only 1 bed) Word Count: ~1.3k Emoji Prompt: 👀⏰🚭 (key words are in bold)

“What?”

You glare at him and keep your mouth shut. How the fuck dare he ask what.

He went and said it as if he has any right to look so hot when he’s supposed to look like shit. Just sitting there. Sleep-deprived stare, messy ass hair. Ratty old shirt stinking of sweat and dirt and he just doesn’t care. Jax Fucking Teller never looks like shit, not even just a little bit.

Last night he got stuck in a fight and needed somewhere quiet he could crash and hide. As his best friend you somehow got caught in the middle of it. Now you and Jax are cooped up here in this motel out on the roadside. Some unspoken tension rears its ugly head between you two and you’ve no clue how to get rid of it.

Actually you do—you have more than just a clue—you know you need this stupid sexy piece of shit to fucking fuck you.

“How’d you sleep,” you ask without lifting your voice into a question. Your own sleep wasn’t that deep. You’d tossed and turned in every possible direction. On a mattress that felt like the pit of hell—expected nothing less from this motel, given the room was so dirt cheap.

He gives you that signature you’re-a-stupid-whore look which between friends is endearing. Friends or not, coming from him it’s fucking hot. A whole damn kink. “How do you think.”

You cross your arms and scowl. He chose to sleep on a scrappy old towel. “Christ, don’t be a dick about it. I told you to take the blanket but you said you’d be fine on the floor without it.”

Jax ignores that and just pulls a cigarette out. Sticks it in the sweet pink pucker of his mouth. You want to be that cigarette right now. You wish he’d read your mind somehow. Why can’t this big blonde idiot figure it out…?

He takes a puff and looks so hot you might start choking. You can’t handle that today. “Put that away. This room’s non-smoking.”

Snickers at you as his broad shoulders lift up in a slight shrug. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”

You start to fume, the smell of smoke and your own slutty desperation swirling all around the room. “You’re gonna set off the alarm—”

Reach down to yank the cigarette out of his mouth but then he swiftly grabs your arm. That ice-blue fire in his eyes that could do you serious harm. The way you wish he would—he’d rough you up so fucking good… he’s more the fire-breathing dragon than Prince Charming but to you the beast has all the fucking charm.

Last night he’d been a gentleman and had insisted that you take the bed. Today you’re mad ‘cause you had been desperate for him to share the bed with you instead.

He doesn’t know that yet. But he could sense it from the second that you grabbed his cigarette. Jax doesn’t want your lifelong friendship to go up in smoke but he’s been itching to get in your pants for years and if you’re standing here and handing him a ticket… maybe if the sex is epic then it’s worth getting his dick wet. Epic sex is one thing Jax Fucking Teller never regrets.

***************

“Bitch, all you had to do was ask.”

He’s such an ass. That shit is so typical Jax.

He growls it fierce, ridge of his teeth grazing the soft lobe of your ear—thick fingers slide across your slick sensitive clit, seeking the tight heat of your slit—then fucking pierce—he can’t believe he has you here and holy shit—it’s stark how different you appear. He tells himself it’s just a fuck, but no such luck, as something sparks and runs him over like a truck.

Jax Teller never feared the dark but just the light: something that felt too fucking bright. Done so much wrong he has no right. Having you near—this was exactly what he’d feared. Had tried to fight. He’d won last night. He’s losing it with you right here.

The lines between friendship and whatever this is should’ve stayed clear. For fucking years, that was the path he’d tried to steer. Stroking his dick alone in bed, or drowning in another chick he had just met—picturing you instead—that was the closest he could get.

Until you grabbed that motherfucking cigarette.

It’s barely been a minute yet, and you’re already dripping wet. It hits him now that’s how you’ve always been for him. It hits him now that you adore him. That you’d do anything for him.

Hits him in the way you hold him like you’re on the verge of death—the way you lick into the heaven of his kiss with your sweet tongue, fucking explore him—suck the smoke out of his lungs, white hot and seething. You’re the fire that the beast in him is breathing. He’s your first and last and only fucking breath.

You’re set to shatter into pieces on his knuckles, and he wants to fucking cry at just how beautiful you are, but that’s the shit that would cut deep enough to scar, and so instead he fucking chuckles.

Makes you weak; you’d scream at him if you had words to even speak. Just leave it to this piece of shit to fucking lighten it. He drags his fingers from your soaking cunt right in the instant just before you hit your peak, and you can’t keep him in no matter how you tighten it.

Here you had thought you both felt something that meant everything, but suddenly you worry that your inner slut got carried off imagining. Suddenly you think of course that’s not what’s happening. You’re just spread out beneath your best friend on the crap mattress of some seedy motel, and there’s no fucking way the fallout from this session will go over well. No way you can go back to what you were, after this ravaging. No way you can go further and become more in the future, which is what your stupid little heart desires more than anything. No way in hell. No way in fucking hell.

You’re slipping fast and he can tell. Tripping somewhere inside yourself. He’d run away from all the weight of that—or fuck through all the issues, if it’s not too late for that—that’s what he’d do, if you were anybody else.

You’re not.

You’re you and that’s what scares him. Like, a lot. He’s never felt something that tears him, but he’s shocked to find the pain and fear of feeling more than he can even bear just makes him harder, pushes him to take this farther. God, it’s super fucking hot.

The doubt and heartbreak radiating from you twist him up in knots. Jax had no clue, just what that little laugh off of his wicked lips would do. He did it to protect himself but didn’t think it would screw you. He sees it’s true, your pretty face painting the picture of your thoughts. Inches from pushing him away but pull him close instead ‘cause whether friend or lover, you’ll still love him like no other. Cling to him with all you’ve got.

He knows you better than he has any damn right to. He’s in you before he ever drives inside you. Always has been. This was real before it happened.

Holds you as you’re gasping—big strong hand soft on your face, the other keeps your hips in place, forehead against yours as he looks at you with eyes the blue of hope and then becomes the rope you’re grasping.

All the lines of who you were—the blindness of before—didn’t just blur. They fucking broke. You take him deep into your core, and let him wreck until it hurts, beg without words, for him to fuck you like a whore and so much more, and breathe him in so deep you choke.

There’s light on both ends of this cigarette, and no regret, as everything goes up in smoke.

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